“The perfect partner is someone that is willing to grow and is also committed to serving your Soul’s growth. The person you attract in an intimate relationship is no mistake. You attracted them and were attracted to them for a reason.” ~ Kute Blackson
I don’t seem to be the only one in this boat—I get quite a few comments and messages from others who have also found themselves to be long-term singletons, and it got me thinking.
We all know the sayings: relationships serve as a mirror, a reflection for our issues and dramas we need to work on; that we attracted to the partner who will best serve our growth; that we will accept the love (or lack of) we think we deserve.
But what if, just what if, we have worked out our issues and dramas already? What if our growth is self-serving? What if we love and accept ourselves completely already yet are still single?
It’s unlikely that many of us are that perfect, but it seems that in the new-agey, yoga practicing, self-development, elephant-type crowd, there are many who say they have done their growth, sorted their sh*t and are still chronically single.
What is going on with that?
I had a fascinating interaction with a male friend a couple of months ago. I’d had a huge crush on him when we first met, but it turned out to be majorly unrequited. Recently we were hanging out again and getting along really well as friends (I am oddly good at turning off crushes if they don’t go anywhere). He then messaged me and floated the idea that we were getting along so well, could there possibly be something more brewing. My answer was probably a tad blunt, but honest:
I love you (as a friend), but do not need you. I do not need you to rescue me from anything or look after me. That makes me a unique woman in your life. You do not feel sorry for me, you do not need to be gentle and protective with me, (nor do you need to be defensive with me and protect yourself). That will make me appealing but not masculine/feminine attractive to you. Don’t sweat it…
This guy, for a whole bunch of not very complicated reason, liked women he needed to rescue—women swimming in drama and issues.
While we connected strongly, and were having a lovely time being supportive of each other, I knew he was not genuinely attracted to me. I did not have the hook that he needed to trigger that “x factor,” that chemistry—that thing where you know this person is going to rock your world for better or worse.
And maybe there is the thing. If we have done our work, if we have smoothed our edges, if we are walking our talk, how many people truly want to be in a relationship with us out here in the ordinary world? Sure, if you are a guru or perceived to be a new-age celebrity, it is super attractive for people to think you have it all together but for those of us out here in normal land, wanting to find an equal—where is the hook?
I think for most people, attraction is like velcro. The little (or big!) hooks we have—our insecurities, our parental issues, our unresolved self-worth dramas are the very thing that makes the fuzzy bits of our potential partners grab on. One person’s messy life hooks another person’s rescuer fuzz. One person’s bossy catches on another person’s indecisive. My ego snags your need to be taken care of.
But what happens when you take out half the equation; if you take out the ego or the messy or the drama? The velcro has nothing to catch on. In my case, on the rare occasions I have ended up with someone for a little while, I usually get told, sooner or later, that I am emotionally unavailable, closed, hard to get to know.
I disagree. I think I will engage with any level of joy, any level of love, happiness, curiosity, even sadness, grief and anger if it is expressed as emotion, not drama. However, I know I don’t engage with ego, so the times I get accused of being emotionally stunted is when I won’t play the required ego feeding role or victim-sympathizer or platitude teller. But if I try to highlight my perspective, it feeds drama (and it is kind of ego driven to point out during a disagreement how much you are not being ego driven), so I don’t do it.
Yes, I do withdraw, but only from the ego and drama, not from the person. However, obviously this has not worked out for me!
So, is it possible that those of us who have spent time journeying into ourselves, who have made peace with our own inner-children, outer parents, egos and attention seeking princesses, have zenned ourselves out of the game?
Can you meditate your way to permanent singledom on the way to enlightenment? I am starting to think it might be possible!
I know there will be some backlash from this hypothesis. I think I am coming from a place of observation, not judgment, but I am sure some will disagree. That is the freedom of perspective.
Of course, it is possible also that I am an emotionally stunted robot and just don’t know it.
Author: Tui Anderson
Image: Jonas Vincent // Unsplash
Editors: Sarah Kolkka; Renée Picard