The Definition of being Single

In the last week, I have run into a few old friends. Though I enjoyed seeing them, I was disturbed by the consistency in which I was asked this question. “Are you getting married?” This was not a question posed after minutes of conversation, nor was it eluded to by any of my statements. I simply said, “Hi! It’s so great to see you! How are you?” Their reply? “I’m great! Are you getting married?” Enter awkward moment.

The last rendezvous was witnessed by a single friend of mine, who upon viewing this scene winced in visible pain. Let the record show, I was not offended by this question so much as I was puzzled by it’s relevance to our current conversation. I could not understand why this was the first and foremost important thing on a person’s mind when seeing me.

 I think myself to be someone with an interesting line of work, I am also a creative person who writes and sells music, then there’s my family, my health, my hair color and what sale I bought my bright yellow bag at recently. All of which should probably be covered before asking “Are you getting married?” Now, let me clarify that in certain circumstances this would be a very appropriate question, and I am not denying that. My situation is however, not one of those. I wasn’t dating someone the last time I saw this person, so there would be no reason to assume my impending walk down the white flower laden aisle. At the very least the question should have been posed on a slightly less serious level. Such as, “Are you dating anyone?” This, though still depressing in it’s reply, would have been a more reasonable line of questioning.

My beef today is not the question, or the lack of thought from the other married brains out there. It is more that our relational status seems to define us in society, which is in great part the reason so many of us feel alone. I do not deny that we are social beings. After all, God saw that it was not good for man to be alone. I get it. However, just because we are not in a romantic relationship at this very moment in time does not mean that we are in the pit of despair either. It is not simply, happily in love or hopelessly single. There is a happy medium. Though I’d like to pretend that I’m a permanent resident in this land, I will admit freely, I am not. Often it feels closer to the pit than the pinnacle, but this ever elusive place DOES exist. Even if for a moment or two a day, contentment is a place I visit quite often. I guess you could say I have a vacation home there. I own space in that land even though I’m not always present.

I am defined by many things, some chosen for me by God: my race, my family, my body type. Then there are things I choose for myself; my religion, my political views, my place of residence, my tax bracket. Singleness can be both. One day I choose to leave a relationship and  therefore I choose to be single. Then another, I am dumped in the trash like last week’s pad thai and I find myself the victim of singleness. Either way, it seems unfair for that one relationship to define so much of how people view me. If I am single, people may view me as desperate, or pathetic, sad, lonely, un-lucky in love, un-wanted, unseen, WAITING. If I am in a relationship, people tend to view me as successful, happy, blessed, lucky and fulfilled. Get it?

Single=Failure
 Relationship=Success

Why?  Why does it say so much about us? Why does it reflect so badly? All these old friends with their awkward questions, gave even more awkward, cliché pep talks after hearing that I was, in fact still single. I could see the pity on their faces. They oozed compassion, which in itself is a lovely sentiment, but when coupled with the overwhelming judgment of failure felt obligatory rather than sincere.  It was as if she had asked me if I was cancer free and I replied with “No, I’ve got six months to live.” She hugged me and offered comfort, because what can you say to someone who is dying other than, “I’m so sorry!” I guess that’s what I’m most upset about. This feeling that I am in a constant state of failure at life, and that every year that passes is one more close to sealing me in a tomb of singleness forever, which to all of us seems the very definition of death.

Do I want to get married? Of course I do! I think about it everyday, and some days it does actually feel like I’m dying of a disease called loneliness. However, I have watched one too many of my married friends trapped in abusive relationships or legally tied to a person, but not linked to them in any other way. Talk about being entombed in a miserable situation! Just because you lay next to someone in a bed at night does not make you happy. It does not make you immune to loneliness or a natural success at life. It does not mean that you have arrived. I have watched too many lives torn apart rather than be put together, here from the other side of this impenetrable fence. Yes, I still want to jump the fence and live in that world rather than mine, but I’m just saying I know that one’s happiness and success aren’t defined by another person. They’re defined by YOU. A ring on your finger is not some trophy or prize to symbolize a level of life you’ve completed. It is not the sign of accomplishment, or a gold medal you’ve earned.

It is a sign of commitment. A sign of choice. You CHOOSE to be married. You choose it everyday. That ring reminds you that you’ve made your choice for good, for bad, for success and for failure. It is not a finish line, it’s a starting point.  Even then, you are not defined by it. You define your relationship, it does not define you.

One last thing before I finish this rant. I would like to thank all my married friends in all honesty, for being so aware of my singleness. For not ignoring it, because you don’t know what to say. For trying. For loving me, and wanting me to find love like you have. For wanting me to be loved as you think I deserve. I am overjoyed that you are happy and fulfilled (most days) and that you want me to experience that too. I know your heart and your intent, and that, I do not question. I love you all dearly, and hope that one day soon you will celebrate with me as I make the choice to be married and start a new journey, a new(not higher) season. I’m glad that you are so happy that you feel sorry for whoever isn’t, as I feel sorry for homeless people. That’s how it must seem to you. That I am homeless. I want you to know that I am not. I have a home. Yeh, maybe you view at as a cardboard box down by the river. No air conditioning, no running water. My view? No house payment. Nothing to clean. Free water. I’m still a whole person without four bedrooms and three baths, and believe it or not, there are happy days down by the river too.