Featured image credit: Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash
Being single the past 18 months or so has not been a journey of self-discovery. Unless that self-discovery includes developing an unwaivering sense of aloneness. It is alienating being the only single one out of everybody you know. The condescending sympathetic looks paired with the patronising words of ‘encouragement’ reminding you that “he’s out there” or “you’ll find someone”, make me want to scream. But my hatred of singledom is not just about peer pressure, it’s a feeling, a need, a want deep down inside of me.
The single feeling has become one of the most consistent thoughts in my head. It’s one of loneliness. It’s one of self-hatred. It’s one of hopelessness. It’s one of ‘why them and not me’? It’s one of questioning every choice I have ever made in life, wondering if I missed out on meeting ‘the one’ and questioning if I will ever get a chance at meeting another.
I want to be a ‘we’ and an ‘us’ again, I am tired of being an ‘I’ all the time. I feel like I’ve become so insular, and everything is about how I’m feeling that I am desperate to concern myself with another in order to end this path of perpetual selfishness.
Part of the reason why I hate being single today is that it reminds so much of being single for much of my teen and adult life. It’s a continuation of the same lonely feeling I had watching nearly everyone I’ve ever known pair up both romantically and socially. I had a school friend who, in the seven years of secondary school and sixth form, had about five boyfriends; more than I have had in my entire life. Granted she was a lot more attractive than I, but still, I’d have hoped by now I might have been encroaching on that number.
Maybe it is because I am a twin that I hate being single so much. Having grown up with someone always there, I am used to sharing my life with another and feel incomplete when I am not. I’m not cut out for being alone. I’ve even begun to struggle seeing other’s in love; couples together doing couple stuff. A serious case of missing out which I worry will descend into the ugly traits of resentment and envy; there’s a strong chance it already has.
I’m certain that the only ones who love being single so much are the ones who have plenty of options available when they decide to dip their toe back in the dating pool again. For those of us who look like the back end of an elephant, there’s no such luck.
For me singledom is not empowering. Despite having grown up in the nineties and noughties where I frequently called out the battle cries of the Spice Girls and Destiny’s Child, I’ve come to realise being a strong independent woman and being in a relationship aren’t mutually exclusive. You can be your own person while coupled with another. I’m not a helpless, needy chick who requires a man to do everything for her. Far from it. What I want is to be in a partnership as somebody’s equal where we are aware of and embrace each other’s strengths and weaknesses and find a way of living that works for the both of us.
I am craving intimacy. I am wanting to be with someone who I connect with on every level. I want to feel completely comfortable with another person and for them to be completely comfortable with me. I want to know that there is someone who has my back and I want to have the back of someone as well. I want us to make decisions together. I want us to talk for hours having lost track of time. I want us to laugh together until we both burst a lung. I want to see life from the perspective of another. I want someone to accept me for exactly who I am and I promise to try my hardest to fully accept them for who they are. I want to start feeling hopeful again. And I want to know that there is a somewhat guaranteed future for the both of us to enjoy.
No one knows what the future will be like when single; you have no idea if you will still be single in two, ten or fifty years. At least when you are in a relationship, all things going well, there is a constant and, if you wish to tick them off, milestones that come as part of a package deal.
But even then, I don’t care about hitting relationship milestones anymore. I don’t care about Valentine’s Days, I have never cared about the ‘stuff’ I can get from being in a relationship, and while I’d like to someday be married, I don’t care about proposals and weddings. I just want to be with someone.
Supposedly my name means worthy of love but a near lifetime of singledom has left me feeling distinctly unlovable and possibly even doomed to live in ironic contradiction. But the absolute worst thing of all is it’s not something I can change because I can’t force anyone into loving me. So, I guess I have to find a way to embrace being the romantic pariah. Maybe someday things will change, please excuse my defeatist attitude, but at the moment it’s looking like they never will.
The Lilac 