It seems to me that singletude is some sort of modern-day disease; an epidemic of substantial proportions. Variability is in the length of our condition; our prognosis, if you will.
Some people suffer from singletude for maybe 4 or 5 years. This is the amount of time they spend alone after they realize they wouldn’t mind a relationship, (at like age 16) until when they meet someone who doesn’t have raging acne or BO, (at say, age 20).
Others suffer singletude for a few months, on and off as young adults. Maybe this is the time they’re searching while serial dating. Or the time they spend in between so many short-lived ‘relationships’ they can barely remember all the names of the people they were with.
Some of us suffer singletude for what feels like a lifetime. In reality it may only be a year or two, but at an older age, I think it really takes a toll on us.
Some lucky bastards never suffer from singletude. They get out of a burdened relationship or marriage and feel free as a bird. A bird who’s cage was full of shit and stunk to high hell. They find themselves soaring like an eagle out of their rotting stink, into the breeze and fresh air. They’re out meeting interesting people and wearing new outfits and great heels, or fitted man jeans, sans the studs. (If you’re a male and wear bedazzled jeans, please refer to my previous post CodeBlack here: https://datingpieceofsass.com/2017/08/18/code-black/ for direction on why you’re all sorts of wrong.)
There are songs, movies, books, conferences, meetings, websites, retreats, church groups, social media pages and endless podcasts dedicated to coping with the symptoms, and curing the condition of singletude.
I am not making light of true disease, illness and diagnoses that forever change our lives or the lives of those we love. I understand that being single is not a true disease but I will tell you it is hard as hell. It’s life changing and bears down on some of us like a plague.
I believe that in mid-western America, adult singleness is an all too common reality that carries heavy stigma and confusion around its existence. I think there is judgement on both sexes but as we know, a single male becomes more eligible and in demand with age. I apologize for this being strong worded (and just my perception here) but a single woman in her mature 30’s is thought of like sickly cattle, like she needs to be put out to pasture so she can find freedom in the Lord. (The latter is mose def true; we could all stand to find some freedom in the Lord.)
Why is she still alone? What is so strange about him that he’s still single at 30? Why hasn’t she gotten engaged? Clearly something must be wrong with them, that’s why they’re alone. Right?
No, not right. What the frack people.
Whatever you’ve thought is ‘wrong’ with a single person over the age of 30, they’ve thought about themselves, but 1000 times worse and for lifetimes longer than it has crossed your mind. We think we’re too much, too chubby, too intimidating, too loud, too homely or that we’re all together simply not enough.
Some single people are proud AF, they hold their heads up high and feel alive. Props to them and please comment below with your tips on how you keep on keepin’ on. I think the majority of single women over 30 however, probably feel odd and out of place. I’ll speak for myself here. The fact that I’m 33 and single makes me feel a bit fucked up. At the last wedding I attended of a young woman I used to babysit (holy shit) I had a few glasses of wine and thought, Andrea, what is wrong with you that you aren’t engaged or married right now? I’m certain some people around me are thinking it too. That’s confirmed when they ask me where my boyfriend is or when I’m finally going to find someone that will marry me. That’s when I proceed to tell them I’m suddenly off the market because I proposed to a bottle of wine earlier that night and it accepted. Booya.
I think I go on dates often, and I’m not asserting that as a good or bad thing. I’ve been asked out and pursued, and the guys have been an assortment of successful, smart, kind and attractive. But they haven’t been it, or had a majority of the qualities I’m looking for all at once.
Are you thinking I’m asking for too much? Well if you think Christian, smart, good looking, respectful and passionate is too much to ask for, then go ahead and be a smugass. But you’re also nuts. Most of us single sufferers are not asking for much. We’re hoping and praying for mild attraction, mutual interest and someone who doesn’t treat us like shit or mouth breathe.
Have you ever met a mouth breather? Ie. Napoleon Dynamite. I am not referencing a congenital respiratory condition. I am talking about people who walk around with their mouths gaping open because they are lost in the world. They don’t know where they’re going, what they’re thinking or what they want. They just shuffle about looking confused with a perpetual double chin. If you’re into this type, you have no shortage of potential candidates.
There are millions of people in the world. Finding one that lights up our life, who’s life we light up as well, is hard as eff. Now I believe in God but how much time is He really going to dedicate to finding a great guy to cross my path at the exact right time when we’re both ready? I mean God has much bigger concerns than a gal’s love life, or lack thereof, don’t you think? *I would love to hear your feedback on this thought in the comments below
So are we all resorting to luck? A stroke of wild happenstance that we meet someone who floats our boat? Are those of us afflicted with singletude just left drifting in the turbulent sea with a hole punched in the side of our dingy? Lord, I hope not.
Public service announcement: if you know a great single person, set them up with another great single person. Help introduce us singletudes to singledudes, you know what I’m sayin’? Make sure said person is kind, honest and interesting and start marketing them. Great, honest single people have to be out there somewhere, right? Please keep those of us who are afflicted in your thoughts and prayers. You’ll be in ours too.
The best people possess the feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed. • Ernest Hemingway •