9 Observations At 2 Years Single
1 – I have now been single for two years. This, at 31, is the longest period of time I have not had a boyfriend since I was 12 years old. There were gaps in between, but none as long as this. It’s kinda frightening as a stat. Because I was so young, yes, but also because for seventeen years there was someone else in and around my life. The whole time I was growing up there was always someone else I was taking into account, a person I was factoring into every decision, into every expression and understanding of my identity. And it makes me wonder, what did that teach me about how to be a person?
2 – It also got me thinking about how easy it was in my teens. Easy despite the fact I wasn’t exactly hot property: I was a bit too smart, tried a bit too hard, was full to the gills with orthodontics and had a pixie cut that was, shall we say, ahead of its time. Perhaps it helped that I went to a very big school. You assume that as an actual adult doing this all “properly”dating will become easier, when instead the pool dries to a puddle and everything becomes incredibly complicated. The stakes get higher, and so too do the levels you have to complete to reach the end of the game.
3 - At what point did sharing a life with someone turn from a when to an if? You assume that of course there’ll be someone, your person. “When I’m a grown up” meant “when I have a job, house, partner, family.” It was just an inevitable part of it. It never occurred to you that it might be an “if”; “if I ever meet someone” was never an option. And now that it really is an “if”, what do you with that? When all your modelling and beliefs of adulthood were predicated on it being a “when”, how do go about life now that it’s not?
4 – I’ve noticed I tend to avoid situations where I may have to be around other couples. There is a walking route that goes past a house a couple have bought and are doing up together, and I noticed recently that I don’t go that way anymore. If I see a local food festival advertised my first thought is that I’d really like to go, and my second thought is remembering that that’s the sort of thing couples do together and maybe I’ll give it a miss. I avoid going out at weekends and Bank Holidays when people are doing things together with the people they love. I wouldn’t say that I’m bitter about it, it just makes me a little self-conscious in my alone-ness, like I’m out in a too-baggy dress, uncomfortable around everyone in their well-fitting clothes.
5 – The crazy thing is that every other major life milestone can be achieved on your own. There may be longer, more circuitous routes to them, they may be more expensive, but they are achievable by one person. I could buy a house on my own, I could have a child on my own if I wanted to. But you can’t find someone to love you on your own.
6 - People tell you you’ll be ok - but you want to be more than ok. I think that single people who don’t want to be single are like a Jacob Marley to people in relationships. It is too distressing to look directly at this vision of an alternate future, the woeful news we bring. People want to say “oh you’ll be fine!” and move the hell on. And I will be fine, I will be totally ok. But what if I want to be more than fine?
7 – Being single is an admin nightmare. It is all the finances, all the bills, all the paperwork, all the pressure to keep all the things afloat. It is all the meals, all the plans, all the bins, every week. There is no one to talk through a problem or a decision with, no one to make a save when you drop a ball. I find myself frequently succumbing to decision fatigue just by living, needing to call a friend to quickly ask if I should wear shorts or leggings for my walk because I’ve already spent 15 minutes trying to decide. There is also no one to be that safety net for either; no one for you to support and be there for.
8 – Loneliness is a physical sensation. When we think of “being lonely” I think we imagine a very brain-centric experience, one that happens in our thoughts not our bodies. I find the opposite to be true. I never walk around my life thinking “I am lonely” and yet I do get what I can only describe as loneliness ‘attacks’ – a kind of emptying out sensation in my chest and a fizzing in my arms, one that makes me catch my breath. And I know it’s loneliness because it comes at the times where I haven’t had physical contact for a few weeks, or where I can count on my fingers the number of words I’ve said out loud in a day. It is a shudder through your body, not painful but also not pleasant.
9 – For the first time I am starting to regret. Before now I have always taken the view that everything that happened has led me here and I am happy to be here, but now I am regretting. I’m regretting having ever met him, regretting all the times I went against the part of me that questioned the relationship, regretting all the opportunities for fun and love I’ve never had. It’s not that I’m dwelling on this because I know I can’t change the past… I suppose I just feel more aware of how different things could have gone.
But I will never regret leaving. As hard as it is, there is magic in it. The great comfort with my own company, the closeness of my friendships, the freedom; the driving home singing as the sun sets, the adventures, the constant proving of just how much you can do. The complete independence over what you do and where you go, saying easy yeses because there’s never anyone you have to check with. The making things lovely for yourself, the tenderness you bring to your own heart and life, the not waiting for anyone else to do the living in your life. As hard as it is, it is infinitely better than staying.
Because no matter how many things are in your list of cons, just one pro can outweigh them all.
