5 Years Post-Divorce And I’m Still Not Ready To Date
I’m only asking myself why because I think I’m supposed to want this
If there’s one thing the people in my life are all-too-curious about, it’s my dating life.
Are you seeing someone? What do you look for in a partner? Can I set you up on a blind date? If you want kids, you should start dating!
I typically respond with something along the lines of, “I’m not feeling the whole dating thing”, “I’m taking a break”, “I’m too busy to think about dating right now”, or “I’m not ready”.
To which they’ll say, “You have to make it a priority!”, “Aren’t you worried you won’t find someone before it's too late?”, or “You’ll never be ready, you just have to do it”.
It’s interesting that most of these conversations are with people who are in a relationship. I wonder if they're invested because they feel sorry for me — their friend, the 34-year-old divorcee. Or perhaps I have a neon sign across my forehead that reads “Sad divorcee, send help”. What I want to know is, what’s in it for them to see me dating or in a relationship?
When questions about my dating life come up in nearly every conversation or at every get-together, I can’t help but think there’s “something wrong with me” for not sharing everyone else’s enthusiasm towards dating.
As early as my teens and well into my 20s, one of the things I imagined was to be married with two kids by 32.
Today, I find myself at 34, divorced and worrying my time is running out, biologically speaking, yet I feel apathetic towards dating.
It doesn’t make sense to me.
In the year following my divorce, I knew that I didn’t want to rush into dating. My ex and I had been in an on-again-off-again relationship for 13 years (starting in high school), and I needed time to rediscover myself and my interests outside the context of our relationship.
But one year became three, and now 5 years have gone by and I’m still not ready to date despite going to therapy to heal and working through my fears and insecurities.
How can I say that I want a partner, but not want any part in the process of finding one? Am I lying to myself? Is the picture-perfect family something society has told me I “should” want, but it’s not really what I want?
I don’t yet have the answers to these questions, but I have my speculations as to why I’m reluctant to date:
I have my guard up
When my marriage ended, I knew that rebuilding my trust in other people would be my biggest obstacle in future relationships.
Despite doing the inner work (read: therapy), I still feel the need for the protective wall I’ve built to keep people at arm's length. Far enough that if things “don’t work out”, I can walk away unscathed.
Although it’s served its purpose in protecting me and my insecurities, it’s also prevented me from connecting with people on a deeper level in any meaningful way.
Dating feels like a full-time job
Dating, particularly online dating, feels like a dreaded chore or a second full-time job that I don’t have the time or energy for.
Between work, my personal interests, maintaining existing friendships, working towards life goals and navigating daily life during a pandemic, dating ranks low on my priority list.
I enjoy my autonomy
For the first time in my adult life, I’m enjoying the freedom and autonomy that comes with being single.
My choices in how I spend my time and who I spend it with are my own, and there’s something liberating about the option to be spontaneous without the need to consider anyone else’s needs or expectations.
The pandemic has given me the time and space to rediscover my interests and hobbies and to work on my personal growth — both areas that I had previously neglected in my last relationship.
With this newfound autonomy and lifestyle, it’s been harder to imagine another person in the picture.
Maybe I just don’t want to date
Would that be so wrong?
There’s this societal pressure and expectation on women that once you’ve hit a certain age — let’s say 25 — that a partner and children are what you “should” be striving for to be “fulfilled”, whatever that means.
Maybe the picture-perfect family was what I wanted 10 years ago, but maybe this isn’t what I want for myself today, tomorrow, or at all anymore.
What I’m beginning to realize is that there’s nothing “wrong with me” when it comes to my choice to not date. I don’t have to justify my reasons to anyone.
It may not be a choice that others would choose for themselves, but for now, it feels like the right choice for me while I figure out what I want my future to look like.
