Every now and then, I can almost swear that everybody in the entire world except for me is in a relationship. On the bus in the mornings, I see couples in various stages of their relationship and observe them surreptitiously. My personal life mirrors this “everyone but me is taken” idea too: the friends I see the most often are coupled up and I often feel like the third (fifth, seventh) wheel when hanging out with them. (I’m the one who feels like this though, they don’t do anything to make me feel this way except a) exist and b) have a partner).

When you have been virtually single your entire adult life, it’s easy to start thinking all sorts of crazy things. You ask yourself (and others) if something is wrong with you and try to figure out what exactly is keeping you from entering the world of the coupled up. Sometimes you’re able to list plenty of things that are wrong with you. Sometimes you focus on others who you think are a worse sort of person than you and you wonder why they have been blessed with a significant other while you remain single. (Then of course after expressing that sort of thought you think “Well, that’s why I’m still single”, and you ask for forgiveness for having such awful thoughts.) It can be a cycle of self- and other-loathing, and the only good thing to say about it is that it passes.

While you’re experiencing these feelings, you probably confide in your friends, and try to get them to understand how you’re feeling. They’ll tell you not to worry, that love is on its way for you. They’ll tell you that they found love when they weren’t looking for it (and they did!). You’ll respond with agreement sometimes and truly believe that your turn is right around the corner; other times the sarcasm and skepticism in your response probably gives your friend pause.

(To the people who try to reassure perpetually single people that they’ll find love, what you don’t realize is that if you have had a relationship in the past, and are going through a drought, no matter how many years long it is, or how awful your ex was, you can at least rest on the laurels of the days gone by and remember (the good parts of) past relationships and feel somewhat more confident that it could happen again with another guy. When you haven’t ever dated, or have only talked to guys and it never amounted to anything deserving the title of “boyfriend” or “significant other”, you don’t have the same sort of confidence that “it’s only a matter of time” before it’s your turn. You honestly do start to wonder if you are not meant to be with somebody.)

I’m not ashamed to admit that I haven’t fully embraced the freedom and other positive aspects of being single. I’ve spent far too many of my single years wishing I was anything but. I’ve spent too many minutes while getting ready for an outing wondering if I’ll meet someone at this event or gathering.

I know it’s absolutely necessary for me to fall in love with myself and my single life and really be comfortable with it and enjoy my life right now, rather than thinking that my life will start (or get unbelievably better) when I get into a relationship. I try to do this but I could do better.

(And a part of me really does think things would be better if I could get this one wish of mine.)

As 30 years of age approaches, my biological clock does its part to remind me that in just five years, my eggs will start to decrease in quality and quantity, that the chances of birth-related complications will increase as I age. I quiet the voice by choosing consciously to think of all that my life has — wonderful parents and siblings, more loyal friends (including blog-friends!) than I deserve, a good job, good health, freedom and security — and it seems ridiculous to let one part of my life completely define me.

Of course I will relapse and these feelings will come again. That’s life. But thankfully deep down there is a part of me that sees the good too, knows it well and believes it too.

Filed under: Introspective, Love? by jummy