I May Be Single, But I'm Not Alone

     

This time of year brings up lots of memories and emotions for seemingly all of humanity.  Parties, family gatherings, and favorite faith traditions dominate our calendars, and with them, an unusual amount of socializing...  It's in these moments we attempt to catch up with people we don't see as often as we would like or family that doesn't live nearby.  And it's these moments where the inevitable annual questions are asked:

"So, how's work?"
"Are you still living in the same place?"
"How is your family doing?"
And if you're single: "Are you... seeing anyone? (insert elbow jab here)"

This year, my goal was to get both feet in the door and both shoes off before Grandma hit me with that last one.  Goal: achieved.  My second goal was to not roll my eyes when she finally asked.  Goal: failed.  Maybe next year.

Truthfully, in the last 6 months, I've come to really appreciate the gift of my singleness.  I've found the freedom that comes from not being obligated to anyone and have seen very specifically where I am privileged to not have to sacrifice for someone else's betterment.  The areas of sleep and money come to mind first.  I am undoubtedly experiencing the best sleep of my life in this season: no children or spouse to wake me and no alarm clocks dictating my sleep schedule.  Also, while my income is not lavish, I also do not have to pay for anyone else's sports activities, medical bills, library fines, or pizza funds.  I don't even have to discuss my budget with another person if I don't want to.  Now,  I'd be flat-out lying if I said I didn't want to be married -- I do, but it's not in my immediate future, and for once, I'm really okay with it.  That's what makes those elbow jabs all the more pointed.

You see, at these parties, the people we end up talking with are often people who aren't in our everyday.  They don't see the daily grind you run and they don't know how far you've come this year -- they're just trying to make conversation.  I know it's just a point of conversation, but so often the point-blank answer they're seeking just can't give an accurate picture of what's happening.  It's not wrong -- it's just not the whole story.  When I'm asked if I'm seeing anyone and answer "no," 9 times out of 10 it's met with, "Oh.  Well, someday you'll meet the right one (Aaaaannd subject change)."   It doesn't leave a lot of room for me to expound on the rest of life, but that's where the real story is, at least this year.  So, because those conversations didn't happen and because I feel ridiculous sending out my own family Christmas card, here's what I would've said about my year (including but not limited to my marital status, thanks for asking).

This year, I learned three things as a single young woman:
1) I may be single, but I'm not alone.
There is a BIG difference between someone who is single and someone who is alone and community is the difference.  Someone who is alone, truly alone, can't answer you right away when asked, "So who would you call in an emergency?  Who regularly pours into your life and values your input in theirs?"  They don't have people in their lives calling to catch up or to ask how a difficult situation turned out.  There is no one inside or outside of their home who really knows what's going on.  There may be lots of people who know 60% of the story, but no one who has heard the whole tale.

But being single in a community of people who DO ask hard questions, invite you into their lives, and reciprocate appreciation is the opposite of alone.  This is the most connected and "known" I've ever felt in my life!  I know with my community of friends from work, church, and elsewhere, that if anything happened, there are at least half a dozen people I could call who would do their best to help in a crisis or even just on a long day and probably a dozen more who would follow-up after hearing later.  I don't have to wonder if I'm cared about because it comes from many places.  And, best of all, I know I have a place to plug in a reciprocate care.  I have flexibility that others may not, so I can be helpful if different ways than other folks (babysitting, caring for pets, extended weekends, etc).  Being single in this kind of community is like wearing a red shirt when everyone else has blue ones but there's no uniform required... no big deal, just glad you're here.

So, if you're reading this and you're one of my "tribe" (Housechurch, colleagues, friends, family, and others) -- for real, thank you for your transparency and your care.  Life wouldn't be the same without you.

2) Introverts need alone time... but they also really need people.
Those who know me also know I dislike being the center of attention and I don't do well with too much "people time."  But this last year, as my job finally settled into a routine, I experienced something new in my introversion: boredom.  HA!  As I write that, I praise God for the provision of a job that is so steady, I never have to take work home with me and a stress level that's way below average.  But when one lives alone, this leaves a lot of spare time.  I used to think there was no such thing as too much time to myself.  Now I know -- there is!  It's good to have people to hang out with and I'm thankful to have some really great ones in my circles right now.

I've been a bit convicted about how much I need people, especially because this season has brought an influx of new folks and a significant number of changes in once-close friendships.  It was the year of marriages for most of my close friends, which has meant adjusting in our friendships.  This Fall, I was challenged to let more people in, not as replacements to my newly-married friends, but because it's part of life and every friendship starts with one "hello."  It's really hard for me to let people in, but I'm living proof that it can be done.

3) It's okay to have high standards, but grace and mercy go farther.
This lesson is still in progress.  :)  Join me.
I'm reading the book called "Unhooked Generation" by Jillian Straus.  It addresses my generation's habit of setting impossibly high standards for certain parts of life and our consequential inability to make decisions and stick with them because it's not perfect.  She focuses on some of the ways this is playing out in relationships and ultimately in marriage and family life statistics.  One of the commonalities in the people she interviewed was the idea that we (millennials) have a checklist of attributes we want in a potential spouse.  It's not a bad concept, but we've turned it into a form of entitlement.  "If I want the best life (and I do), this list of attributes is what I need and I'm willing to wait for the person who possesses all 249 of them.  And, because I waited for the best, I deserve the best so I won't settle for less than all 249."  Okay, 249 is a bit much, but Straus said her average interviewee had a list of about 20 qualities.  Ironically, it was the ones unwilling to compromise even a little bit who are still single.  Most of them had, at one point, met someone they could've married, but chose to dump and move on to the next best thing.  It's a pattern I recognize, though, truthfully, I'm usually on the other side of it.  One of the foremost things God reminded me of this year was that I am worthy to be pursued and that this is a standard I should not compromise.  I don't want to be someone who uses a self-made list to measure other people's worthiness of marriage... but I also don't want to marry a deadbeat.  So where's the middle ground?

Her research suggested that we hold the list-making idea loosely, but dig deeper and find the will to make it work.  Words like "sacrifice," "bad days," "forgiveness" and "committed" were used to suggest that sometimes the only way to have the good life is to make it yourself.  My generation is unaccustomed to this level of commitment.  We're the generation that keeps our options open, swipes left on Tinder after seeing a person's profile picture for less than a whole second, buys variety packs of everything, that won't buy phones with a two-year contract or sign leases longer than 12 months at a time and who just can't handle it when the grocery store isn't carrying our preferred brand of granola anymore because it means we have to choose one of the other 22 flavors.  The idea of committing a lifetime together "for better or worse" is the millennial definition of prison -- no way out, no undo button, no plan B, no Unsubscribe button.  No wonder we're getting married later than ever, if at all.  It's also no surprise, then, that multiple break-ups and failed young marriages are no stranger to our generation either.  When it's not going well in other areas of life, like a career or a hobby or a friendship, it's all too easy to just quit and find something else.  We, as a generation, are very used to starting over and picking up the pieces.  But I'm not convinced this has to be true for everyone.  I'm not wholeheartedly convinced that life has to be lived in pieces, even if that's where you come from.  I'm beginning to see with fresh eyes that most things worth investing in are far from perfect and require a LOT of work.

So what if she's right?  What if we let go of the lists and the over-the-top expectations and faced the facts: marriage is the bonding of two lives into one and everything that comes with it.  Everything.  And my everything might look different than his everything, but every body's got something and what makes or breaks a marriage is how it's handled.  I'm learning that if I'm every going to be married, I need a good long lesson on extending grace and mercy to others and myself when the "everything" gets uncomfortable because it's just too easy to run.  It's too easy to look at my list, evaluate the situation, stamp a big red "Fail" on it, and turn the page.  I've done it more times than I want to admit.

But God never runs from us.  In fact, He runs TO us, even after we've made a mess and tried to run from it.  My generation has very little concept of how one is supposed to trudge through a mess and not quit.  The idea that the God of the universe does this for every human on a daily basis is mind-blowing.  Why?!  Because He is gracious -- He doesn't have to continue to love us in our mess, but He chooses to.  And He's merciful -- we totally deserve to suffer for the bone-head choices we make, but so often, God protects us from ourselves and lessens the outcomes more than we may ever know.  If this is what God shows towards me, it would be wrong of me to not extend grace and mercy to others, especially in relationships.

Here's where I get stuck and where I wish the conversation would go in the Church.  I absolutely 100% think we always can give more grace and exercise more mercy than our human tendencies lend. However, I also think there's biblical validity to having boundaries in order to have healthy relationships.  I just don't know how those two things should interact or when to exercise one over the other.  Too often, I find myself setting boundaries when it might be best to have just given grace or giving grace instead of having the awkward boundary conversation.  Jesus was very merciful and certainly He went out of his way to care for others, but He wasn't a push-over or a total people-pleaser who feared backlash.  If we're going to have healthy relationships, it has to be because we can extend grace and mercy but also keep our boundaries in tact (without pushing others away as we set them in place).  It's a balance...

I'm going into 2018 with the hope that growth will continue.  This year was one of the best yet.  However, God has a few items impressed on my heart to pray towards that I'm choosing to believe He will bring forward.  I am thankful for the season of life at-hand, but my gut says it's going to change for the better.  We'll see what He has in store.  We know that God gives good gifts.

I hope your 2018 is one of many blessings and growth in all the best ways.