A Plague of Being Single?
Only to the people who have never been outside of a relationship will it still come as a surprise that there is, even in our 21st century modernity, a great stigma attached to being single.
In an age where eligible bachelors (and not only) are literally at one’s fingertips, where a swipe and a like is all it takes to get you partnered up, only the most obstinate, and the most seriously defective can still be single.
And yet, according to recent studies, many Western countries, like Canada, the U.S., and several Scandinavian countries, house more single citizens than people in a relationship.
Why?
Blaming the patriarchy — is it really so simple?
A quick online search on the matter will reveal an overwhelming number of articles, social media posts, and videos, talking about how “single shaming” has its roots in a patriarchal, anti-feminist society.
And yet, it’s not just women who are choosing to stay single. And not just straight women, certainly. Presumably, it’s not just us single straight women who get lip about it, either.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no doubt that our disproportionate reverence for couplehood hails from a backwards, toxic patriarchal society. And yet, to say “bah, the patriarchy” seems overly simplistic to me.
In order to understand why we are so averse to the singles in our lives, it’s important to first ask how we understand being single, and even more interestingly (for me) why we think couplehood is the saving grace of this earthly life.
Singles — curbside witches, womanizers, or just plain weird?
Logically, it’s more likely for a single woman to be the victim of prejudice and single shaming, than for a man. And it stands to reason that coupled woman would regard singles as a potential threat, particularly “serial singles”. All friend circles have that one friend, the “Samantha” of the bunch, who’s never in a relationship for very long, and isn’t it that many, more traditional women are reluctant to introduce her to their partners?
There are many who theorize this sort of jealousy (or, on the male side, repressed desire) lay the groundwork for the horrific witch trials that once ravaged Europe.
You can’t trust an unaffiliated woman living (and thriving) all on her own.
Sure, you might think, if you have such fears about your friends, you have the wrong friends, except it’s not as easy as that. More often than not, such insecurities and jealousies are rooted in a toxic attachment style, personal trauma, and other more complex background work.
In other words, your fear of being cheated on says far more about you than it does about your single friend.
And the sad thing is, for many, being in a relationship actively prevents them from delving into the kind of background, self work that might help them fix this fear. Why should they? Somebody already chose them.
As ever, I prefer to write from what I know (e.g. being a woman), so I can’t speak to the stigma levelled against single men out there. If I had to guess though, I would posit that it’s once again women who stigmatize and shun single men, specifically those in their partner’s circle, as being bad influences.
Many ladies would feel a higher level of trust if their partner went out with a fellow coupled man, than with a single “playboy”. Just look at the words we use to describe such men — playboy, bachelor, womanizer, free agent — all bespeak extreme sexual prowess. And while amongst men, that might be something desirable, it’s something to guard against for women, from multiple perspectives.
For one, we often feel we need to “protect” our own partner from the foul influence of a “playboy”. For another, many women operate on a “mate-choice copying” principle. It’s why coupled men can be more attractive to us than singles — according to science, we’re influenced by another woman’s say-so. So if another woman thinks a man is worthy, then so we will we. On the other hand, if no woman thinks this (single) man is worth pairing up with, we’re more inclined not to trust him.
So despite our progressive affectations, our society, it seems, is still very much geared against single people.
Why we shun the luxury of being single
Being single is fucking hard. It implies sitting with your feelings, and always doing the dishes, and not having someone to take you to the movies. Knowing how to be single is hell, at first. Ideally, most people would go through this hell sometime in their 20s, but not all. Some people only end up here in their 40s or 50s, and I believe it’s much harder at that age.
How does it go for most of us? You grow up with your family, your parents, your siblings, so you’re not really “alone” for the first decades of your life. What comes after?
Typically, you either enter in those sweet, adolescent-type relationships, or you don’t. Now, there’s those young people who will typically gravitate from one relationship to another, driven by societal pressure, as well as a genuine terror of being alone (again, being single can be very difficult, we’re not minimizing that, particularly when you’ve never done it before). Or, they don’t. Many young people arrive to their mid to late twenties as virgins, having “missed” that coupling up window that was typical for their generation. For them, the hell of singlehood hits twice over. It’s not just the being single itself, but also the terrifying feeling that something might be wrong with them.
It’s very hard for both these types to learn to enjoy singlehood. Because for many serial loners, the joys and independence of being single will be marred by that underlying doubt and fear. It’s also extremely hard for the serial coupler, because they end up in their mid, late twenties, or even much later, not knowing who their single selves are. Not knowing what they like to do on an ugly, cloudy day. Or the joy of curling up in an easy chair and binging Fleabag for the third time. So, they’re terrified, too.
And living in this fear, both these types end up rejecting the joy of being single. One, because they’re trapped in the nauseating fear that they’ll always be single, and single must mean undesirable. And the other, because they don’t know how to define themselves outside of a partner.
It’s only by understanding who you are as a single person that you can truly find happiness and fulfilment in a couple. You need to know yourself, before you know yourself as part of a twosome. Obviously. Otherwise, the pressure is too high on your partner to define you.
Why aren’t we “checking in” on coupled friends?
I’ve seen this term of “checking in on single friends” bandied around the Internet, and it always makes me gag.
It’s quite common for humans to use relationships as a crutch. We’ll enter relationships to feel less lonely, to avoid unpleasant emotions, and of course, to use as the supreme social qualifier. Somebody wants me, ergo I’m not a “complete loser”. I don’t know about you, but my own Eastern-European country still hinges heavily on that belief system.
That’s not counting all the people who stay in a toxic relationship, manipulated or abused by a partner into submission and loyalty.
Don’t get me wrong, some people will stay single for much the same reasons. Single people also use that as a way to deflect, to protect against disappointment or other negative emotions, out of fear, and insecurity.
Anyone trapped or driven by fear, insecurity, and other negative emotions, coupled or not, needs to be “checked in with”. Because it’s not a healthy place to operate from.
And yet, as a society, we only see the single people who are operating from that place. Personally, I know plenty of coupled people who use that as the tremendous crutch it can be, who stay in relationships to qualify socially (because we all know there’s a stigma to being single), or not to be lonely, or to have someone to take that trip with.
When in truth, none are viable reasons to be in a relationship.
As I mentioned, my own upbringing in a fairly conservative country (old babushkas will ask you if you’re married yet as you go down the street) left me with a profound belief that couplehood was this saving grace, this ultimate absolution, and social qualifier. Pair that with a lot of Hollywood garbage telling you that people in relationships are by default happy, fulfilled, and “doing life right”, no wonder singlehood continues to carry such stigma.
This assumption that you need to “check in” suggests that single people have no one else to do that for them, ergo, people in a couple will check on each other. Not always. You’d be amazed how blind we can become to the suffering in our partner’s life. So no, many people in a couple will just take it at face-value, or even blame their partner for being depressed, or a “kill-joy”, or anything like that. It generally takes self-aware people who have done the work and are consciously and actively to make their relationship work, to be attuned and attentive to their partner’s mental and emotional state.
And again, that’s not mentioning all the people who will actively feed off of their partner’s misery.
I’d argue, as ever, a little moderation is in order. A little balance. I think you should check in on single people if they seem to be going through a difficult time. The same is true for coupled people, widowers, and just plain strangers. It’s called being kind, and it shouldn’t ask your social status first.
As I’ve already mentioned, I write from what I know. I can’t speak for what it’s like to be a single man (straight or not), or a single woman who isn’t straight. I’d love to hear your experience with it, though, because I genuinely think that’s how we grow.
Thank you for reading! I’m fairly scatterbrained, and this was one of the many random subjects that pique my interest.
I recently put out my first book (the first in a fantasy trilogy), and am working on the next two. So there’s a chance I’ll be talking about that, sometimes, as well as many other random topics.
So if you’re someone who enjoys that kinda writing, well, why not subscribe? It’s free. And I’m desperate. So there, honesty.
