I'm in one of those "I hate love but I want it so badly" kinds of moods.
My dad called me out on one of my silly crushes a while ago. Has that ever happened to you? It's weird, right? But it was necessary.
I've been wrestling quite a bit lately with my singleness.
It seems like everyone around me is either "talking to someone"/dating/engaged or is happily single and surrounded with supportive friends. I know that this is not a realistic picture, chill out.
There's so much talk about singleness being a "season." I hate that word. Seasons are predictable. We know what to expect from summer, autumn, winter, and spring. We have a general idea of when they will begin and end. And they happen every year in approximately the same way.
LIFE ISN'T LIKE THAT!!
Before you freak out again, I totally understand what people mean when they talk about "seasons of life." But I don't think it works as a metaphor. Seasons are cyclical. Yeah, yeah, yeah, so is life. But I would prefer to think of life's cycles as more of an upward spiral. That each time we come back to a similar "place" (another word I would like to remove from this usage) we are closer to where we should be than we were last time. (This is influenced by Sy Rogers's chapel/Vespers talks last fall.)
I would much prefer if we talked about "chapters" or "twisting, intertwining plot lines."
And my biggest frustration with the use of "seasons" to describe phases of life: Seasons always end.
Here are the kinds of things people say about singleness that make me want to scream.:
"Sometimes God is keeping us single so that we will draw closer to Him."
"He's just keeping you single until just the right guy comes along."
"The apostle Paul was single. He said that singleness is a high calling."
"Just be patient, love might be right around the corner."
"Being single is great! You get to flirt with anyone!"
SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!
You have known each other for two weeks. You are not in love.
You have been dating for two months and you are a freshman in college. You do not need professional portraits.
Just because we call you "little baby freshmen" doesn't mean you get to act like infants.
Of the dozen or so Bethel weddings that took place in the past year, approximately two of them were couples who started dating the first semester of our freshman year. In fact, more couples who started dating at the beginning of freshman year broke up within a year than lasted longer than that. The relationships that have lasted, the ones I respect, the engaged couples I'm excited for are those who were friends first, those who took time to get to know each other, those who waited to really understand what they were getting into.
I'm just not convinced that a few months is long enough.
There are anomalies, I know. But don't try to be one. You just can't force love like that.
I'm single. I have been since I was sixteen years old.
There have been "almosts." There have been serious conversations.
And it has crashed and burned every time.
This is when I start to wonder what's going on.
I know that you're out there rolling your eyes thinking "Is she REALLY writing another post about being single? Come on! We get it. You're forever alone. Move on." Yeah, I know. But I don't journal, and this is something that is often on my mind. At least I'm not pretending that everything is fine. And it's not going to help either of us for you to sit there judging me like that. No one is forcing you to read this. Go away. I love you.
You see, we cynics are usually just bitter and jealous. Not of your gross profile pictures of you kissing, but of the fact that you're willing to put your heart out there like that. I have never been able to do that and have it end well. So here I am with trust issues and rejection issues and coping mechanisms that push people away. I hide behind sarcasm. I desperately need love and affection, but I can't show it unless I know it's going to be returned.
Don't give me platitudes. That will only make me angry, and I don't like me when I'm angry. Platitudes mean nothing on their own.
I'm not proud of the fact that I'm not over this. But I don't think I will ever not be frustrated with being single. I will be the happiest married woman or the bitterest spinster who ever lived.
Good night
My dad called me out on one of my silly crushes a while ago. Has that ever happened to you? It's weird, right? But it was necessary.
I've been wrestling quite a bit lately with my singleness.
It seems like everyone around me is either "talking to someone"/dating/engaged or is happily single and surrounded with supportive friends. I know that this is not a realistic picture, chill out.
There's so much talk about singleness being a "season." I hate that word. Seasons are predictable. We know what to expect from summer, autumn, winter, and spring. We have a general idea of when they will begin and end. And they happen every year in approximately the same way.
LIFE ISN'T LIKE THAT!!
Before you freak out again, I totally understand what people mean when they talk about "seasons of life." But I don't think it works as a metaphor. Seasons are cyclical. Yeah, yeah, yeah, so is life. But I would prefer to think of life's cycles as more of an upward spiral. That each time we come back to a similar "place" (another word I would like to remove from this usage) we are closer to where we should be than we were last time. (This is influenced by Sy Rogers's chapel/Vespers talks last fall.)
I would much prefer if we talked about "chapters" or "twisting, intertwining plot lines."
And my biggest frustration with the use of "seasons" to describe phases of life: Seasons always end.
Here are the kinds of things people say about singleness that make me want to scream.:
"Sometimes God is keeping us single so that we will draw closer to Him."
"He's just keeping you single until just the right guy comes along."
"The apostle Paul was single. He said that singleness is a high calling."
"Just be patient, love might be right around the corner."
"Being single is great! You get to flirt with anyone!"
SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!
You have known each other for two weeks. You are not in love.
You have been dating for two months and you are a freshman in college. You do not need professional portraits.
Just because we call you "little baby freshmen" doesn't mean you get to act like infants.
Of the dozen or so Bethel weddings that took place in the past year, approximately two of them were couples who started dating the first semester of our freshman year. In fact, more couples who started dating at the beginning of freshman year broke up within a year than lasted longer than that. The relationships that have lasted, the ones I respect, the engaged couples I'm excited for are those who were friends first, those who took time to get to know each other, those who waited to really understand what they were getting into.
I'm just not convinced that a few months is long enough.
There are anomalies, I know. But don't try to be one. You just can't force love like that.
I'm single. I have been since I was sixteen years old.
There have been "almosts." There have been serious conversations.
And it has crashed and burned every time.
This is when I start to wonder what's going on.
I know that you're out there rolling your eyes thinking "Is she REALLY writing another post about being single? Come on! We get it. You're forever alone. Move on." Yeah, I know. But I don't journal, and this is something that is often on my mind. At least I'm not pretending that everything is fine. And it's not going to help either of us for you to sit there judging me like that. No one is forcing you to read this. Go away. I love you.
You see, we cynics are usually just bitter and jealous. Not of your gross profile pictures of you kissing, but of the fact that you're willing to put your heart out there like that. I have never been able to do that and have it end well. So here I am with trust issues and rejection issues and coping mechanisms that push people away. I hide behind sarcasm. I desperately need love and affection, but I can't show it unless I know it's going to be returned.
Don't give me platitudes. That will only make me angry, and I don't like me when I'm angry. Platitudes mean nothing on their own.
I'm not proud of the fact that I'm not over this. But I don't think I will ever not be frustrated with being single. I will be the happiest married woman or the bitterest spinster who ever lived.
Good night
1 comment:
So there's that.
No platitudes here. Just I love you.
And a laugh... Because my prove you're not a robot word up is "ummulfu" which is humorous...
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