Coupledom

When our culture promotes a “normal” life as being one that leads to a partner and marriage, the ONLY path…

When girls are encouraged to want the white picket fence and the 2.5 children, husband, dog in the yard, and debt up to their eyeballs…

When toxic masculinity abounds, and “not all men” is shouted from both sides…

Sure, not ALL men. But enough men.

Enough, men. Enough…

…It’s very unlikely that many women will find their way to a different thinking pattern. Some will, and some will halfway, but most will fail. I know I did.

For forty years I failed, off and on. I just didn’t know there was any other way of being. Even though I was always completely happiest alone. Even though I craved the touch of a woman’s softness, and not a man’s. Those simply were not options for me.

So I compromised.

For Jehovah’s Witnesses the (very few) single brothers and sisters in the congregation were pitied. They were an anomaly. I remember one in particular from my childhood, how she craved a partner without letup, how she’d allow her heart to swing toward some older single male if they showed interest, even though it happened only once every ten years or so. How rare those men truly were. How she was devastated when it was clear nothing would come of it. And how us kids watched her desperate race for a partner, and mourned with her when she remained single, alone, a virgin in her fifties. It seemed there was no other fate as bad as this, and we’d sit and giggle wondering whose last names we’d be called when we raised our hands during Watchtower study. Which man would erase our identity with theirs. Who we would have to compromise for, when the time came. And how we craved it.

Dating was difficult in the JW world. There were no times when a male and female were allowed alone together unless they were married. Many times I’d notice an older gentleman in our congregation (Kingdom Hall) refuse to help a single woman with maintenance work because then he’d be in her home alone with her. Chaperones were necessary in any dating situation, whether you were seventeen or seventy.

Apostle Paul in the Corinthians wrote about singleness as a gift, and yet everywhere around me all I saw was coupledom. To Witnesses it’s all too common that singleness was a burden to carry and be shed of as soon as possible.

I didn’t know how distracting and overwhelming relationships were, how they’d keep me from my innermost thoughts. They were what I’d been conditioned for. The girl who would go days without encountering another human if she could. Months, even. The girl who craved solitude like a drowning person craves air. It was necessary for me, and yet I fought it with everything I had, because it just was never an option I could entertain.

But I can see it all for the joke and false promises it is now. It holds no appeal to me.

As much as I thought I loved myself then I can see now that I truly didn’t. My worth was only found in another’s eyes, and some stranger’s opinion could break me faster than I could imagine.

When all I needed was to hug the girl in the mirror I looked for a partner’s arms. How miserable I was, too. Un-endingly miserable, until I stopped looking.

As much as I crave being loved passionately and appreciated, I am not willing to give up and “compromise” anymore. Mine are the only arms I really need, and they are right here.