Sunday, January 29, 2023

romantic celibacy

 

I have come to realise that the point of my resolution, and of holding myself to it for at least a year, is to give myself a chance at peace.  A respite.  Not just from the horror that is online dating, but from a lifetime of misguided hopes.

The fact is, I am a romantic.  I have, since as young as I can remember, dreamed of romantic love.  I have longed for it, and in going through life with looking-for-love-tinted spectacles on, I have seen glimpses of its potential in boy after boy after boy.  I only count it as a few times that I have been "in love" (only one of those requited), but crushes, lusts and hopes have been a constant of my existence.

My real life experiences with men have only resulted in disappointment.  My heart is more exhausted than my unfit, middle-aged body; my romantic hopes have been replaced with justified cynicism; even sex has turned from a game, to a base need, to something generally to be avoided.

Reality was always going to disappoint.  For most of my life, the primary occupation of my mind has been to daydream romantic scenarios with my latest object.  I have squandered 42 years in daydreaming, rather than actually achieving anything in life.  And of course, at the same time, no doubt sabotaged relationship possibilities with real life men.

But I don't know that I have ever wanted a real relationship with a real life man.  I have desperately wanted fantasies (and cried my lungs dry when they haven't come true), but I have never particularly desired simple coupledom for the sake of coupledom.

The real reason I get my back up when you tell me I will "meet someone", is self preservation.

YOU mean, that I will almost certainly meet an attractive, decent fellow, who wants to be in an honest, committed relationship with a gal like me.

What my still-beating, still-romantic heart HEARS, is that I will get a real life fairytale.

I need to live in reality.  I am well aware that my stupid heart will surely fall again someday, but I am doing what I can to avoid indulging my over-active imagination.  Hope is a dangerous drug that has hurt me every time; I am going cold turkey.

Sunday, January 1, 2023

New Year's Resolution


I am starting the new year by breaking my rule of not making new year's resolutions.

For 2023, I am giving up on looking for a man.

It isn't much of a resolution, given the minimal effort I made in 2022 to find a partner, and the complete lack of success in getting beyond a first date with any of the few I went that far with.  But it is a mental adjustment that I think needs some specific rules for it to stick.

So here are the rules: 

  • First and foremost - no online dating.  I have zero profiles on zero sites at present, and I will keep it that way for the entirety of 2023.  
  • Secondly, no pub or club or otherwise in-life hook-up attempts.  Including no drunk-texting (or sober, lonely texting) of either "back-up men" or exes.  And of course, as per rule one, no drunk (or lonely, ego-boost-desiring) tinder-rejoining.
  • Finally, no more looking at every vaguely appealing man as "potential".

In the unlikely event that a man in real life should pursue me - for romance, or more realistically for sex - I am allowed to say yes should I so wish.

I am publishing my resolution here to hold myself to it, of course.  And also, to document the outcome; my feelings, and also the reactions.

I was inspired to take this course when contemplating the annoying phenomenon of other people wanting me to "meet someone".  It seems that just as nature abhors a vacuum, so society abhors a singleton; a single person is seen as merely a person-yet-to-be-coupled, half of a future couple.

And it takes its toll.  I can genuinely prefer having my bed and life to myself, profess as such without defensiveness, and still people say "I'm sure you'll meet someone".  And I start to believe it.  I start to wonder... where is he?  Will I meet him soon?  And then I get tired of waiting, head back to the dating sites, and suffer the inevitable disgust, disappointment and disillusionment.

So let me be single.  Indefinitely.  And with intent... at least for 2023.