Single and content?
(Warning: one of the long ones)
When did this change happen?
How did we, as a society, come to terms with the possibility of a loveless marriage and divorce but not a marriage-less life?
I do not have the expertize to theorizing about society but I can tell you how it happened to me. It happens when one forgets that- one owes it to oneself to be loved by someone one wants wholeheartedly, not whom one merely tolerates because one is afraid of being single forever.
So post 'horrible breakup' (which I wanted, just not with so much drama) of last year I started questioning myself- "Why did this happen to me?" and ended with "What do I want in a guy?".
Then I threw myself into looking for someone by actively dating, with the reasoning that I have the capacity to love and be loved in return.
Looking back, I am glad I actively changed my outlook about men (i.e. they are not all odd!), improved on my looks, did get asked out and then go on as many dates as I did with as many varied guys. It was fun to dress up and find out interesting bits about people who are sorta similar but also so different from me. The attention was nice even when the results were not that great. Dating gets exhausting after a while with constantly communicating with people when you clearly don't see any future with them. However the mission was accomplished.
I do have the answer for "What I want in a guy".
And no, I'm not listing it here.
I've also decided to stop dating.
Not to say that I've stopped looking or that I'm vowing spinsterhood. But I am, for the first time, proud to say that I'm reveling in my singlehood.
Finally, with the lessons from dating, I am excusably carefree of the advice of others about 'how to find the one' because I've done them all and deaf to the "oh stop being picky and you'll find someone" sentiments abundant around me. I would still love to, one day, meet a guy with whom I can foresee future . But it is only one of the many things to happen in my life, which will one day give me things to reminisce about when I'm 85 and playing AI scrabble at the old-folks home, sitting in a room with slightly smelly old couches.
I welcome that future room as its unavoidable with age induced physical incapacity.
Then it occurred to me - in the meantime I had been erroneously constructing another room with interesting things to fill up time while waiting for life to start. That is not how it should be!
Life has already started and I'm still physically capable of roaming outside.
Its a good start that I've built lasting friendships, cultivated some interests and created a 'bucket list' (with a lot of things checked off already). But I've yet to passionately pursue something which will not only round up my understanding of life but sharpen it. I want to move beyond self-preservation to self-realization. A touch of infinite, as Tagore will say. My mark in the world that is uniquely me, outside of my relationship status.
I don't have the details figured out, but I have a start.
PS: If I fail, I ask this of my friends. When I die (esp if my organs cannot be of use), plant a couple of trees in a corner somewhere to make a fantastic reading spot for someone! (I'll leave the money in my Will)