This is a thing that has been on my mind for quite some time. There is not a nice way to say it, that I have found, and blogging about it is probably not the best way to go about, but it is a conversation that I think needs to be tackled and, well…who better than me?
Ask me how long I’ve been single for.
You don’t have to ask me. I’ll tell you. It’s been six years. Almost exactly. You may or may not know this already because I may or may not have mentioned it in 7 out my last 10 blog posts. I want to say the number of dates I’ve been on since then remains in the single digits, but that may be a royally self-deprecating exaggeration.
It isn’t the absolute worst. I have less than two years of relationship experience totaled up throughout my entire time on Earth so at this point I’m pretty well-adapted for it. But I am also eager to be swept off of my feet by the most eligible bachelor that fate can throw my way. I spent most of my days debating whether my relationship glass is half-empty or half-full.
I think it’s fair to say that I am someone who enjoys being alone more than most people do, but I also don’t enjoy being alone as often as I am. And when those moments come where I don’t want to be alone, I have difficulty communicating this with most people in a way that is healthy and direct (Thanks, Social Anxiety.)
Take this Fourth of July for example:
I cannot bear to spend a holiday alone, even if it’s a holiday that doesn’t have any substantial meaning for me. If the rest of the city/country/world is out having a good time, I need to be doing the same. So I reached out to two of my closest friends to see what their plans were. I then sat around all day waiting them, individually, to tell me whether they would want to hang out or not because they were waiting to hear from their partners.
Eventually I gave up and moved on, and truthfully, ended up having a very lovely night. All the while, I was plagued with guilt over how I handled it (and still am) but if I hadn’t done so, I very well could have ended up plopped on the couch by myself all night while the sounds of fireworks echoed in the distance. Or, ya know…down the block. I don’t think any of the participating parties meant any ill will, so I don’t want to begrudge them in such a fashion, but they possess a certain safety net that I lack and covet, and I feel that this gets taken for granted all too often.
As I get older, being unpartnered becomes more and more uncomfortable. I find that, in general, partnered people who have been in their relationship for a certain period of time quickly come to neglect the simple struggles of singledom. They have a social advantage of having each other, even when all else falls through the cracks. I say this, of course, as an introvert who does not have an easy time arranging outings, and might be more frustrated by these happenings than others, but it is something that I am growing increasingly resentful of with some of the people that I love most.
I’ve lost count of how many times the people I’ve wanted to spend time with have asked to bring their significant others to an outing, while I myself have had no one to invite along for the same reason. And this puts me in an uncomfortable place, because more often than not, I really like their significant other. But not having a similar figure in my life that I can extend a similar offer to, it lands me in a really uncomfortable place, and I feel like I don’t have the right to communicate that.
And it sucks. I can’t think of a better way to say it. It just sucks.
Society is structured to benefit partnered people. Socially. Financially. Any way you can think of, pretty much… the coupled people have it going on across the board, in the grand scheme of things. And the single people, well…we’re often left in the dust. There are a great many of us who don’t have someone to go home with/to at the end of the night…an automatic date for every occasion… and I can only speak for myself but I’m sick of acting like I’m okay with it.
I feel a strong sense of responsibility to fight this phenomenon… to make society more accommodating for the singular stragglers. But also I just want to throw up all of the middle fingers and snag my own unpaid romantic intern who is obligated to kiss me goodnight whenever I demand it.
The floor is a healthy relationship built on trust & intimacy, where we can both be vulnerable while nurturing each other’s gifts & goals. pic.twitter.com/wTjglgc87d
— Katya (@katya_zamo) June 16, 2017