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I have a confession to make: There was a point in my life when I just assumed I would never be single again. I thought I had found the love of my life. I was all in, and for a little while, he seemed like he was, too. When I ended up back on the dating market, I tried to be optimistic, but I was drowning in grief.
I went through all the grieving stages. It took a long time, but I got through it. I decided that if that person wasn’t the love of my life, it meant that the love of my life was still out there. Somewhere. I gave dating another try.
It made me tired — a bone-deep exhaustion that sleep couldn’t cure. After a while, I wondered why I kept putting myself out there when I clearly wasn’t enjoying it. So, I stopped. I didn’t exactly take myself off the market, but I did delete dating apps. I stopped looking for single and available people in the real world. I even stopped obsessing about my relationship status at all. I let other people do that for me — and everyone seemed happy to do it.
I began focusing on my life. I wanted to be happy, and the only thing standing in my way was me thinking something was missing in my life. Actually, weird things started to happen when I stopped thinking about my relationship status.
Unexpected Pets Happened
My niece was telling me hopefully about her litter of kittens. She’d never been able to convince me to take one before. She was surprised when this time I said I wanted two — the two black kittens that I didn’t know I wanted until that moment.
Then, there were the chickens — a sentence I never expected to utter. I decided I wanted egg-laying hens. I just did. There was no rhyme or reason. My brain latched onto the idea with an urgency that comes from being an adult with obvious but officially undiagnosed ADHD. I planned for 4 chickens … so, of course, I have 10. Such is the way of chicken math.
Unexpected Opportunities Happened
Now that I was spending time worried about my relationship ending or looking for a new one to worry about, I had free time to focus on my interests. Opportunities kept popping up — one after another. I’d always wanted to write for a print magazine, and now I do. I’d never thought I’d start seeing clients again as a therapist, but then things changed.
My life didn’t shrink when I stopped looking for a partner. It expanded and kept expanding. It didn’t stop. I made new friends. I read new books. A whole new world opened up to me.
Obliviousness Happened
“I sort of think I met someone.” That’s what I told my friend. I wasn’t really sure. My flirting radar was broken. Because I’m not on the prowl for a new partner, I can’t always see the signs that someone is interested. It really has to be spelled out for me.
It was interesting in a couple of ways. First, I had to decipher if flirting happened — and if I flirted back. This shouldn’t be hard to decode, but I was a little oblivious at the start. Then, I had to consider attraction. Was I attracted? Was I just responding to his attraction? What did I want from this encounter? I discovered that I’m not disinterested in dating if it happens organically, but I have no desire to stay on alert for it at all times. If I’m honest, I’m still not sure if I misread the situation, but I also determined that I wouldn’t say no to meeting for coffee.
Disbelief Happened
I say I’m happy being single — and people don’t believe me. I’m not faking it until I make it. This is genuine. But there’s still a little mystification that anyone could be happy and fulfilled without a partner.
I used to spend a lot of time trying to convince people. Then, I stopped and let them think what they want. The ones who believe that “I think I’m happy” (their words, not mine) are afraid that I’m closed off and keeping myself away from true love. But I’m not opposed to it. I just don’t want to make finding it one of my many hobbies. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, I’m still happy. Some people don’t believe me. They don’t have to either.
Happiness Happened
This shouldn’t be strange, but it is a little. I thought when that one relationship ended that I would not survive it. I mean, I knew I would live. I just wasn’t sure that I would ever be happy like that again. But I grieved hard, and I let him go. Wherever he is and whatever he’s doing now, I hope he’s happy. It turns out that I’m happy, too.
I love my life now. The shape of it. How it feels to me. I’m in a good place. It’s not tied to my relationship status. It’s just rooted in what I have now, and I know that gives me a strong foundation if I ever decide to choose another relationship in the future. I don’t think about that as often as I once might have. I’m too busy enjoying my life the way it is right now.
My kids give me a lecture about finding someone. I’m bemused as I ferry them to our next location. They’re giving me dating advice from the backseat, and it’s hilarious. I offer up the idea that it’s possible to be happy and single — at the same time. They point out that a good partner could make me even happier. I don’t disagree. It’s possible. They even make some valid points. But I hold my own pretty well in a discussion about my single status with children.
In the end, they just want me to be happy. It’s what we all want for each other. And that’s what I am — happy. I got out of my own way and into the life I was living. It’s been strange — but pretty amazing, too.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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From The Good Men Project on Medium
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Photo credit: pawel szvmanski on Unsplash