"It's just me, myself, and I/solo ride until I die/cause I got me for life," Bebe Rexha wails into my ear as I run up the hill. I'm sweating, panting, and feeling alive. I've always felt most whole and happy when I was single. I'm nobody's other half, and a lot of that is because it's my default setting. Unless you count the little courtship I had junior year where we spent three months gazing into each other all googly-eyed, and all the kinda dating/Friends With Benefits/one night stands I had in college, I have only been in two serious relationships including the one I'm in now.
To be clear, I am not talking about the freedom to have indiscriminate sex, though I can see why some consider it a side perk! I'm not talking about the freedom to constantly meet people on dating apps. I don't even have a profile on any of them because I find going on dates that lead to nothing draining and exhausting (though I do know couples who found their soulmates that way, to which I say more power to you for having more patience than I do!.) I'm talking about independence and the freedom to live my life on my own terms. Though I've sometimes cried about having a special person to hold me close at night, I've never really been lonely. I have a kickass network of girlfriends, my passions for fitness, improv comedy, and travel, and I live in a city where I'm always finding new and exciting plays, parties, and events to explore. I value walks alone to meditate, to read, to enjoy nature. Most importantly though, I am 100% in control and I call all the shots!
That is not to say I do not enjoy being in relationships. For the past two months, I've been dating the most wonderful man. I feel at peace when he holds my hand when we're in his car listening to whatever eclectic mix he's playing on his speakers, I feel butterflies when he spoons me while we're listening to Prince on vinyl, and I feel special and appreciated when he texts me in the middle of the day just to ask me how my day is going.
As my feelings deepened though, a feeling as familiar and unpleasant as that obnoxious distant relative who somehow manages to score an invitation to every Thanksgiving dinner keeps rearing its ugly head. That feeling is panic and anxiety. I panic that I keep falling harder and harder every time I see him, which feels thrilling and exciting, but also makes me feel like I'm driving a car on the Los Angeles freeway at 90 miles an hour with no signs of slowing down. The anxiety detectives in my mind keep looking for clues that he's going to do me wrong like the last guy so that I can get out before I get hurt. And of course, I feel guilty doing this because he has done nothing to deserve this kind of scrutiny, but given my own romantic history in which I've dated guys who have ranged from flaky and inconsistent to still hung up on his ex to psychologically abusive, it is only natural that my heart sleeps with one eye open and keep a knife under its pillow And when I look at my phone every so often to see if he's sent me a text, I feel sick to my stomach that I depend on him to brighten my day. A voice in my head keeps nagging me "why invest so much into this guy if you don't know for sure he's going to be there forever."
It's not as if I haven't talked to him about how I feel. When I told him how my increased feelings lead to increased vulnerability and fear of my insecurities messing up the relationship, he told me not to worry about screwing things up because he is happy with me. What I realized this week though, is that as much as he reassures me, the key to happiness in a relationship is finding reassurance and validation within myself. While I live a happy and fulfilling single life, I hunker there because it is feels safest, and most familiar. I know full well that I could decide to stay in safe space. I could make the conscious choice to never enter a relationship so I don't have to deal with heartache and drama, but then I would close myself off to so many wonderful possibilities in life that having a romantic partner and true love could offer. Someone with whom I can be emotionally intimate, someone to share the adventures I dream of taking around the world. I often see a beautiful sunset or hear a romantic song on the radio and think that I wish I had someone special to share that with.
Though since single is my default setting, being part of a couple will not feel natural right away. Just like working out, it requires working out some emotional muscles that I'm not used to exercising. Trust and faith, the cornerstones of a successful relationship, are both muscles I need to learn to flex. Though like with any new exercise class I take, the pain lessens each time as my muscles start to remember the motions. I feel joy and energy radiating through my bones each time I sweat and I begin to look forward to each class. And if I get injured, I can always sit out until I heal! And only by continuing to put myself out there and to fall in love and let myself be vulnerable, will being part of a couple feel as natural as being single.
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