Why Am I Still Single?
My loneliness and I used to often talk like this: how can it be we have been walking together for so long?
Long ago, in my twenties, I was in a love and hate relationship with a man I had met at a Salsa club. After one of our umpteenth break-ups, I remember complaining to a girlfriend of mine about that guy who was acting like an asshole. She gave me the following advice: “Enjoy your singleness until it lasts. It’s one of the best periods of your life. Because when it is over, you will regret it.” I stared at her as if she was drunk and talking complete rubbish, then I discarded her suggestion right away. I just needed a sounding board, someone to corroborate the evidence of my victimhood (“Ooh, poor you”).
And guess what? I got back together with that same guy. Folks, that’s how scared I was of being single!
I obviously went back to being single again shortly after that, which provided me an excellent opportunity to pathetically lip-sync to the song “All by Myself.” Bridget Jones’s Diary would have been kind of an accurate depiction of my love life. Although it would have actually sounded a bit more dramatic than hers, because I lined up that love and hate relationship with a toxic one right away…
It’s funny how the Universe works in mysterious ways. It is constantly working to make available to us the tools, resources, people, and lessons we need to become the person we were meant to be.
At times, the Universe, life (or whatever you may call it) gives us a little tap on the shoulder or whispers something to our ears, like “Hey, pay attention.” “Listen to your intuition.” “Something is not right.” Sometimes, when we missed the initial warning signs, life sends us a gentle reminder “Haven’t you been there before?” “Have you got it this time?” Other times, life gives us a big slap in the face or bangs our head with a brick, saying “Wake the heck up!”
The break-up following that toxic relationship was my brick, the boulder that shattered my existence. I stepped out of that unhealthy relationship completely stoned and I have been single ever since.
It has been 10 years. Yep, that’s a big number! The equivalent of billions of light-years away from any serious relationship.
In the beginning, my relationship with solitude had its ups and downs. Let me be truly honest with you: I never thought I would stay single for so long!
I mean, I shouldn’t brag, but I had no trouble meeting men (at least, virtually). My macaroni-cheese are edible. I can turn into Miss Apnea when stinky, dirty socks are lying on the floor. I can hold any kind of conversation, by staying completely silent. Okay, clearly, I don’t want to violate the social norms of modesty to show how fabulous and special I am. So, take my word for it or, if you’re a hot guy, call me at 999-… :)
Initially, to me, being single was an obscene, nearly dirty word, a curse for late-night frustrations. I felt like a lonely, miserable, second-class person. I felt crooked. Left out. Inconvenient. Like an awkward tooth does in a spotless dentition. Singleness was a burden to bear. I was the type of person whose voice would turn down a notch when facing the waiter at the entrance of a restaurant while requesting a table for one.
I have seen people getting married, children being born and growing up into teens. I watched people’s lives like a fast-paced movie. I might have probably wanted to be part of it, but I couldn’t. Staying single was my attempt to take control of my life, avoiding relationships with dysfunctional men — a way to protect my heart.
Yet, at the back of my mind, with each year passing by, the perpetual questions were always playing, “How can it be that I am walking with my old friend, loneliness, for so long?” “What if my desire for love will be forever unmet?” or “What if I could never experience the universal truth held in Nat King Cole’s amazing lines: ‘The greatest thing you will ever learn is just to love and be loved in return’?”
Well, every human being is made in love and our deepest desire is to give ourselves away in love. When that desire is unmet, for whatever reason, it can cause profound suffering, an ache that cannot be solved with just a snap of the fingers. In that sense, single life is hard. Really hard. Excruciating.
That’s the ugly and harsh truth.
It lends to loneliness, self-doubts, and fears. No wonder some of us will drop out of the “singleness” forces and get into relationships just for the sake of not staying alone or facing uncomfortable feelings and unsettling questions.
The urge to ruminate those unpleasant questions can strike at any moment, although they could be quite contained and remain under the surface. But, sometimes, they will become fairly oppressive when well-intentioned people add fuel to the flame, wondering why you are still single, looking at you as if you have a disease that needs to be cured as quickly as possible. People are quick to offer unsolicited advice and jump to conclusions that offer simplistic reasons for why you’re still single: “You’re too picky.” “You can’t get a man.” “Get over it.”
Regardless, it is said that when one willingly faces the question that one simultaneously wants to avoid, then one can truly see the wellspring of hope and the possibility of a peaceful life.
It’s in holding those upsetting questions long enough in my heart that I started to unveil the underbelly of my singleness.
Unlovable.
A toxic relationship that took a toll on my life and left me questioning everything about myself.
Unworthy of love and undeserving of love.
Underlying beliefs that “Love is not for me.” “Love equates to pain.” “Love makes me weak and vulnerable.”
These are all the elements I discovered when I finally resolved to follow my friend’s advice and when I decided to “invest” in my wasteland devoid of love. This is how I truly came to know the single life has a real and useful purpose.
I insist. Single life can be self-actualizing and enjoyable, but we need to embrace it first.
I can definitely assure you I have gained a lot with all these years being on my own. Maybe, somehow, I realized the opportunity for personal growth that was tied to the time I had alone.
I learned being companionless could be taken as an advantage instead of a source of agony, as a time of purpose where I could take responsibility for my life and empower myself, as me-time to replenish my body, as well as detox and declutter my mind and soul.
I learned I didn’t need to wait around for someone to come to save me because I am actually my own rescue.
Most importantly, I learned to love myself, to accept my flaws, my emotions, my mood swings, my quirks. And to welcome myself in all my facets and complexities. Solitude smartened me up. Gone is the time when my foolish self would write in her diary “He loves me,” as if she was amazed that someone could love someone like her. Today, I tend to write “I love you my Celestine butterfly” (Okay, I guess I didn’t get rid of my goofy side).
Because if life has taught me a thing or two, it is to fully embrace and accept myself as I am.
Human.
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