Are You Seeing Someone?
An exploration of longing and self-reliance
It’s a tender moment. That moment right after I’m asked if I’m seeing anyone. And I say no. I often feel like someone needs a hug, and it’s not me. Eyes grow sympathetic, discomfort arrives. It’s usually here, in an awkward silence, that I’m asked if I’ve ever tried online dating — and a discussion of the friend of a friend who met their spouse online commences. If the person asking “if I’m seeing anyone” is a woman, complaining about men inevitably follows (I happily join in). If a man is the asker, there’s often a supportive, men-must-be-blind comment (I easily agree). Behind each of these reactions, however, is the understanding that single-is-bad and double-is-good. There is no acceptable in between, and yet this is the land I want to inhabit. In fairness, I suspect some people ask this question because they like the potential drama and juiciness that lies behind a YES. My NO is just plain boring. The conversation peters out.
Thankfully, after thirteen years of living on my own (postdivorce) people have stopped asking, “Are you seeing anyone?” They’ve lost all hope.
Being solo in a duo world is fraught for everyone, apparently. The single and partnered alike. My acceptance of singleness is incomprehensible to many people. And my current happiness is confounding to explain. Even more so when I begin with this truth — I would welcome a loving and adoring partnership. To use business parlance, one of good quality. I would invite a great person into my life wholeheartedly. And sometimes, admittedly, I am lonely. Sometimes I’m concerned about navigating the latter part of my life without the support of a significant other. It’s this admission that confuses well-intentioned acquaintances. If I feel this way, then it follows I must be, at my core, feeling that my life is less-than. And another conversation about online dating begins.
One of the difficulties of “Are you seeing anyone?” is that there’s no way to say no without triggering other people’s issues around loneliness. And once triggered, there is no place for my contentment. It’s crowded out by their concern for my well-being, seen through the lens of their potent feelings around being cherished and loved. For people who assume I am disconsolate in my aloneness, there is not one single thing I can say that will convince them otherwise. And the minute I’m asked if I’m seeing anyone, I am metaphorically put in the Lonely Box. Alone. The only way out of the Lonely Box, it seems, is to be dating. When I try to convince them otherwise, it’s as if I’m speaking in tongues.
We are, all of us, conflicted about our current situations. Some married acquaintances may envy my freedom and may feel inpatient with my “pickiness”—triggered by an underlying insecurity with their own relationship choice. Likewise, I can meet couples who immediately make me long for the loving, empowering partnership they represent.
So how does one talk in a nuanced way about being contentedly single (most of the time)? How does one explain the personal investment one makes to deeply accept their alone-ness without sounding defensive, delusional, or just strange? It’s a daily work in progress. But, I’ll try to rough in the edges here.
1. Be your own good partner.
I’ll start by calling bullshit on a myth. The myth that says people are less lonely in a relationship. As much as I love and adore my ex-husband, the last 5 years of our marriage were some of my loneliest. Hands down. There’s a particular brand of isolation that happens alongside someone else. He would probably agree. Assuming that partnerships eliminate loneliness is a unicorn wrapped in sparkly paper.
As people move in and out of my life, one person always remains. Yes, sigh, that would be me. And given that I spent much of my life not liking me very much, I’ve invested the last ten years or so trying to shore up that relationship. My growing acceptance of who I am, faults be damned, has had a profound effect on my overall contentment, alone or otherwise. Again, it’s a work in progress.
2. Consider reality.
At the heart of my alone-acceptance, is…well, acceptance. Are good relationships exciting, rewarding and beneficial? YES. If a good relationship is not available, can one still make peace with all the realities of their life and thrive? YES. Is this really possible? Hell, yes.
I know other people who are equally interested in thriving while alone. Discerning individuals who are between partners, or who haven’t met someone worthy. These men and women are oriented towards living full and complete lives now, less interested in pining for some future soulmate who may or may not appear. Accepting one’s reality isn’t easy because reality isn’t easy. But the embrace of all of life’s yays and nays can be a catalyst for contentment. Wanting or yearning for something other than what one has? It’s the third ring of hell.
3. Broaden your view.
Beware the human tendency to boil circumstances down to one pronounced condition. “I am lonely” is never the whole truth. I would imagine that someone who feels lonely also has moments when they feel loved. Or accomplished. Or happy. What is the reality of “I am lonely”? If we narrow our perceptions to only our solitude, we don’t fully appreciate our people or pets, thunder storms, and passion projects — all elements of a satisfying life. Favoring one aspect of our reality over another is a flattened description of a (sometimes) delightful existence.
As I grow more and more appreciative of each component in my day, as I develop deeper friendships, and as I cultivate fulfilling creative projects, my loneliness has greatly subsided. When it returns, and it does, I try not to buy into the all-consuming tale of woe my mind has at the ready, and I give the part of me that’s sad, worried, tired, or hopeless a little attention. It can be hard to manage a life all on one’s own. And I sometimes feel every bit the slave to trash-emptying and bill-paying. If I acknowledge this, along with those other things I’m grateful for, I can marvel at the way my contradictory conditions can coexist and transform.
4. Be love (whenever possible).
We are all love generators. Unleashed love can be a veritable Labradoodle of enthusiasm and delight. Because of this, love is available to us at all times. My daughter, my friendships, and my family members are all abiding treasures and sources of love. But, when I can muster it, I am my own most potent source of adoration. I’ve found that generosity towards others and myself is regenerative.
5. Stay open to change.
Wanting and yearning for something to be different is a dark pit we all easily fall into. Ironically, It locks us into place, which is the opposite of what we’re trying to achieve. Being open to something different, on the other hand, reveals a great verdant field of possibility. What’s the difference? A matter of perspective.
When we experience yearning we know exactly what we want and how we want it. Yearning is conditional. If only I had X (a spouse), then, finally, I would have Y (happiness). But in reality, what if X doesn’t happen and Z (a new friendship) does? Openness to possibility is unconditional. When life delivers Z you still experience Y, knowing that more options will soon come your way. Perhaps you’ve heard of online dating?
Who knows what’s ahead. I want to be open to finding a significant partner, I just don’t want it to define who I am. I may live my whole life un-partnered. Then again, I could meet someone tomorrow or, perhaps, in thirty years—my cane in one hand, his hand in the other. In the meantime, I’m a damn good partner, I try to savor each component of my life, and I feel all sorts of love. In fact, when I do successfully unleash my love, it joyfully pounds up the trail ahead of me.
