slaying the single dragon

There is a children’s book my dad used to read to me when I was little entitled Princess Smartypants. In it, there’s a princess and a slew of princes and obstacles and honor and defeat and a little bit of success. But the best part about this story is in the defeats. Princess Smartypants does not want to get married, so whenever a suitor would come she would saddle them with an impossible task. Finally, a prince comes along who outwits all of her obstacles, but instead of falling in love and marrying him and living happily every after, she turns him into a frog. 

And he leaves.

And it’s wonderful because it was finally a children’s story that doesn’t say that love and marriage are the only way to find happiness. I have been single now for about a month, and I was single about three months before that, and I have to say I’ve never been happier. And it’s not just the freedom to do as I please, and it’s not just ability to be spontaneous, but rather it is that the only responsibilities I have in regards to other people are changing in topic and frequency. I don’t have to try all of the time to be whatever it is I think will get me to love or to marriage or to a happy ending (not in the massage parlor sense), because I’m comfortable just being alone. I have lost any desire for external validation, and it is a liberating feeling. 

The problem with single in our psyches is that we’re never really single. At least in my experience, being single is very much seen as being alone and all of the horrible connotations the word carries with it. Lonely. Sad. Undesirable. Exiled, or at least somewhat estranged from others (as it is hard to match the intimacy of a relationship). So instead of being just single and happy, we instead see ourselves in a transitory position. We are, in many ways, between relationships, not alone. So we put on our best dresses and our best make up (or our best suits, or what have you), and we try our best to seek external validation through looks or compliments or flirting or dates, and we spend our time thinking about and shopping for the next inevitable relationship (inevitable because we spend all of our time working for it, and that’s how we have to see it, for if it isn’t inevitable then we are alone). It seems to me that we only seem to ourselves to be alone, and lonely, when it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

 But really, being single doesn’t have to mean being alone. I am just as happy with myself and with my friends as I ever was in a relationship. This is due in large part (admittedly) to the sort of people I seem to be attracted to, and try as I might to change it, I have not yet found a way of finding someone, I’ll say, “healthy” to date. But that does not mean that I am only happy in comparison. In fact, I believe I am happy. No modifiers need apply. And I think this has something to do with the children’s book my dad used to read me. 

There is a G. K. Chesterton quote that goes “Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exits. Children already know the dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.” In our modern society, being single has become our dragon. We see so many movies with an awkward girl or guy we strongly identify with (because we all feel awkward at least 10 times a week), and someone else (usually of the opposite gender, but that’s a topic for another essay) comes in and loves them (after a magnificent and totally unrealistic physical make over), and they are happy. We rarely ever see a story where love isn’t tied directly to happiness. 

Now I know that there are a million books and a million more cliche quotes about how loving yourself is the best love you can find. But really, losing the sense of desperation, the yearning for attention, puts you in the most pleasant place imaginable. When you stop caring about dating, you can start accomplishing other things. I have always thought in my head that as soon as I was married, I’d have everything figured out. After marriage, everything (except, of course, the marriage necessarily) would be cake, so I spent a larger part of my time and mental capacities (larger than I’d care to numerically quantify) on the sole subject of dating. I hoped that I would figure it out soon, so that stability could come after. And I based this on that first feeling you get when you’re in a relationship; the feelings of ecstasy and excitement and motivation to do everything and anything. The truth is though, that’s not what a relationship is. A relationship takes work and it requires you to fill up much of your consciousness with the concerns of another person. When I’m alone, my room can be as messy or as clean as I’d like, but if I’m seeing someone I feel ashamed by my system of organization (or lack thereof). Instead of making everything easier, relationships in fact make everything harder.

So in lieu of lowering my standards (if that can happen) and allowing every prince with a whim and a want to claim me, I have decided to conquer my dragon and live alone. Not to say that if a relationship happens upon me I would turn it into a frog, but I am less willing to search it out. I have so many things I want to accomplish that I can’t imagine trying to accomplish them while building a relationship.

This is not to say that I have no faith in those who are in committed relationships; in fact, I applaud and admire their ability to mesh with another so well. I have just come to the conclusion that at this moment in my life, searching for a relationship instead of allowing myself to be single is not in my best interests.

Comfort without company has become a beautiful thing, and perhaps the best thing that I have learned so far.

[And now that I’ve written this, I’ll probably be in a relationship by next week. :)]