MANILA, Philippines - I remember how my father used to laugh that my mom thought she would never be married at 26. I later realized that this was actually a sensible idea for a time when the normal marrying age was 19 to 21. After all, I am now 26, and considering I live in a time where people are married in their 30s or as close to it as possible, I have begun to wonder whether or not I’m meant to be coupled permanently.
Singles my age have taken to blaming Disney for their unrealistic expectations, which I disagree with. As a child, even though I loved The Little Mermaid, I knew Ariel was a blithering idiot for giving so much up and putting her family through hell to have a shot at a boyfriend. Sure, he was a prince, but there was no story to him other than perfect hair even in a rolling storm. Girlfriend needed to get her priorities in order. So no, Disney has nothing to do with my standards; instead, I blame my parents. They’ve set an impossible example, having loved each other as well as two people possibly could for over four decades. They’ve done well by each other and by their children, to a point where I feel like it would be difficult for me to be married and not have the same kind of partnership, or the same capacity to provide for my future spawn.
Personally, there is a part of me that feels like I still have a lot of time to figure all of that out, and then there is the rest of me that goes to weddings and gets asked the question, “O ikaw, kailan ka?†It’s said jokingly, while you’re looked at as though you’re the lone Michelle Williams in a room full of Kellys and Beyonces. (Being a sassmouth, I have learned to reply with, “I’m still on the hunt for the perfect African American boyfriend,†and then it gets wonderfully awkward for everyone.)
But that’s how it is, isn’t it? It’s almost like, as the song suggests, you’re no one until someone loves you. I’ve met women who hold positions that allow them to cause media blackouts on certain incidents within international companies, whose jobs entail restructuring governments, who are so good at what they do that they are constantly courted by competing firms with higher salaries, greater perks, bigger offices, and more prestigious titles. Women who are well-respected for their contributions to the way the world is run, but also shamed into thinking that their success is something they should be apologetic for, because they have failed to lock down a life partner in pursuit of personal ambition.
Alone but not lonely
Now, I’m not saying that you have to be one or the other, that you can only be either accomplished or married. You can be absolutely everything that you want to be, given enough hours in the day and enough resolve to work at a career and a relationship. What I am talking about is the lack of understanding for a breed of female (or even male) that chooses the former and enjoys the comfort they create for themselves. It’s always assumed that you are looking to be the other half of something, without which you are incomplete. And if by chance you do well on your own or choose not to be accountable to someone else, you’re deemed as selfish or hopeless or cynical. There is never just, well, “single.â€
I remember sitting in this Catholic singles group and hearing a bunch of guys tell me that they’d like to settle down in the near future. This is porn to some women, but all I saw was needy and creepy. That wasn’t what I went there to hear. I didn’t want someone to tell me to hold out hope that God had designed a man for me. I wanted to talk about the grace in being alone. Being accomplished and alone, being godly and alone, being loved and alone, being un-lonely and alone.
Single and hot damn fabulous
In fact, what I hear most often is that it’s simply the bitterness of the single woman, that to be single it must mean you’ve given up on love altogether. And sure, at this age, it begins being exhausting, trying to navigate the mind of the opposite sex. I was talking to a guy friend of mine recently, who told me about how sexy it is when women are accomplished and powerful, and then told me that his perfect ex was this girl who cleaned his apartment regularly and had a hot meal waiting when he walked through the door. (I told him he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend; he was looking for a cleaning lady.) It’s like they want you to be everything — successful and financially independent, but also the kind of woman who can take command of a kitchen and empty the lint trap of a clothes dryer. They want you to drink beers with them and have the patience to sit through a football game, but still walk like a graceful goddess in 10-inch stilettoes. It’s difficult, but avoiding all that isn’t the main idea of why it’s important to be alone.
What so many people gloss over is learning to love yourself — maybe because so few people really understand it, and maybe because it sounds like a hippy dippy concept meant for the feelings brigade. But for anyone who’s ever been in a relationship that’s ended, they know how unfair it is to rest all your hopes on someone else. To hope that the other person fills all the holes that you couldn’t, to be assured by someone else that all your quirks are indeed lovable. It takes courage to stand alone, to be by yourself, to look at yourself and know that in spite of your shortcomings and fat ankles, you’re pretty amazing. It sounds like a self-help cliché that people who are obsessed with The Secret would spit out, but there is no sense to life if you can’t love yourself. This isn’t just so someone else can love you, but that self-acceptance is a pre-requisite for any kind of happiness. You should be able to own how beautiful and complex you are, to love your life whether or not it includes a partner, to be unapologetic about being single and hot damn fabulous.
I am at an age where everyone starts to feel the pressure of building a life plan that involves children, a two-car garage, and decades of time with someone else. All of these are wonderful things that certainly, I hope to have someday. But I have a greater hope to travel the world by myself, to meet and work with people whose careers I admire, to learn new things and hear fascinating stories, to try delicious food and get piss drunk every now and again without having to explain myself, to keep getting out of my comfort zone and challenge myself creatively, to make new friends and create enduring relationships. I hope to make a dent, to be remembered for making a lasting contribution to humanity, and to never lose that sense of wonder. None of these things involve being loved by a man, but all of which involve me being able to love and understand myself first.
“Someday, I may find my match, but it’s also very possible that I might not, and I’m okay with that. I am single — it’s not a disease, or a crime, or even a romanticized blessing. It just is, and it’s been fabulous, and for that, I am grateful.