by Meredith Siegel Cohen, Creator, Single and Striking Out
Sometimes being solo sucks.
Like when I just want to cry in bed, with a pint of chocolate peanut butter ice cream, the remote control, and a box of tissues. And maybe sneak in some retail therapy on my laptop, as I bemoan my single state of affairs.
Why? Why me?
I’m a good, honest, ethical, caring person. I have a lot of love to give. I don’t lie, I don’t cheat, I don’t make up stories or avoid hard things. I don’t think I’m hideous. Why isn’t there someone out there searching for me? Why are there matches for others that don’t seem quite so deserving.
Yep, admittedly, I go there.
Weak Days
There are “growth” days, and then there are stagnant or “weak” days. Days where I’ve had it with this whole getting comfortable with my solo self business- when I want someone to lean on, someone to love and to love me, someone to help. Someone to want to help. It’s hard, and like anyone, sometimes I get stuck in the feeling-sorry-for-myself loop. Last weekend was one of those times.
I had a schedule for Saturday and Sunday, which involved a lot of running around on errands. And Saturday afternoon, parked outside the dry cleaners (not the most exciting of the stops), my car refused to start. In the sweltering heat. She steadfastly refused to budge. Battery dead. I waited close to 3 hours for the car service, which thankfully was able to start the battery. The next day, in my garage, she decided she needed more rest. Dead again. This time I had to ride with the tow truck to the closed car dealership (which was kind of cool, I must say).
I was hot, I was tired—my own battery was depleted. I sharply felt the sting of “aloneness.” There was no one to say, “I’ll be right there!” No one to give me a hug. No one to drive me to the dealership. (With the exception of my mother, and I didn’t want to drag her out in the heat for a second time.) Thank goodness for Uber. There was no one to say, “Mer, don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” I didn’t have that even when I had someone. He would just say “I’m sorry, it must be really hard,” from the comfort of his home. (How many times did I hear that line!?)
Handling It All
So, I handled it, as I always do. I handle everything, which has its benefits, as I can figure out just about anything. But it also has its detriments. Handling everything on my own is a stark reminder that I have to handle everything on my own. I have no choice. It’s exhausting, and it sometimes makes me feel sorry for myself.
Which is exactly the space in which I found myself on Sunday evening.
I lamented to a friend, “I have no one. No one cares. No one will ever care.”
See where the mind goes? Does last Sunday’s ordeal really mean there will never be anyone?
This piece is for those of you similarly situated, who feel the sting of lonely days and who wonder if the rest of life ahead of you will be more of the same.
I get it.
I saw a reel on Instagram of a young man talking to women seeking love. He said to look around: if people initiate conversation with you, and babies smile at you, and animals are drawn to you, it’s because you are the embodiment of love. Which was a nice sentiment. But it doesn’t erase the desire — no — the need for real love and caring, from another human.
Sparks of the Future?
My car’s mechanical failure was not so dissimilar to my emotional one. Sometimes, we need a rest and a space to sputter. I wish there was a body “shop” I could go to, quicker than a therapist’s chair, to fix these feelings. It’s natural, inevitable really, to get worn down from the everyday and wonder if this is it. Have my options for love withered away? Will I forever be a bystander observing others’ love stories? And if that is going to be my future, how do I soften these sorrowful feelings and lean toward acceptance?
I don’t have an upbeat answer today. I suppose, like with anything else in which we are working toward a goal, we have days of success and days of failure. It’s only normal to take two steps back in order to move three steps forward. Feeling stuck is a normal part of growth.
Solo certainly doesn’t equate to superhuman.
So, until the day someone shows up with ‘spark plugs’ for both my car and my heart, I’ll keep my freezer stocked, my sheets clean, and my tissues handy. Survival kit for one, party of one.
Two steps back for sure, but still standing.
XO,
Meredith
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