i was recently featured in issue 14 of zabby allen's procrastination paper - the love and relationships edition. when i saw zabby looking for contributors from all sides of the love and relationships debate, i knew i had something to add. being happily single for such a long time now (by choice) been something akin to the making of me and my happiness, and i wanted to be able to give that side of the "being single by choice" story in my own words. now that it's published, i'd love to share it here with you as well.
"You'll find him when you least expect it!" errr—no, thanks.
I am a 35 year old
woman, with my own flat, a stable career, lots of a great friends, a stuuuupid
addiction to 90s medical dramas, and absolutely no desire to be in a
relationship. And that conclusion was reached only after trying desperately
hard to be in one, because I thought I should be. Because of my age. And
because of some silly societal expectation of me, and how I should live my
life. And because I am a woman.
Well, I’ve already
lived that life. From ages 16 to 28 I was in long-term, monogamous
relationships. With various people, mind, but each of them lasted a good two or
three years, two included moves across countries and borders, and one
definitely included that “this could be forever” feeling – which, in hindsight,
I’m quite glad did not.
Being in a relationship for that long of a time, during so many of those pivotal years, stunted me in ways I’ve only recently learned. Emotionally, it left me with an anxiety disorder that is now heavily medicated, because of various levels of co-dependency during my formative years. Physically, it left me with a body I only felt good in when a partner told me it looked good, and that I felt ashamed of when it changed and grew, and became something different to what was previously considered “lovable”. And finally, it also left me loveless – not just from others, but from me too.
To borrow a phrase
from the Supermodel of the World, “if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell
are you gonna love somebody else?” It took being single at 28 for the first
time since being a teenager, to learn what real love was. And it certainly did
not happen overnight, unlike many of those past loves. This love – this
self-love, took years to find. While on that particular journey, I certainly
tried my hand at filling the void left by love; drinking was fun, but the
hangovers were not. Tinder was fun, until the guys turned out either too
clingy, or too creepy. Dating was fun, until it wasn’t anymore, and when that
happened, I was alone once more.
Then, and only then –
when I’d truly had a gutful of trying, did I find the time to spend some time
with me. Instead of waiting for someone to take me to dinner, I took myself.
Same goes for solo cinema dates, and even fun lady-dates with my closest
friends – rather that sit around and wait for someone to love me, I tried out
loving myself. And for the first time in years, I found that I actually
reaaaaally enjoyed being by myself.
I do sometimes worry –
come 7pm on a Saturday when I’m still in my pyjamas and ordering in Pad Thai
for one, that this might just be how it is from here on out, but... that’s okay
with me, I’ve made my peace with that. I’m in no rush to disrupt the life that
I’ve built for myself, that I’ve paid for myself, that I’ve constructed in a
way that suits me, by bringing someone else into it. I’m not sure I’d have room
to, anyway.
For the first time in
such a long time, I am living MY life, for me.
