The Single Quest: Fuck Fantasy

Marriage. Say and think what you want about it. It holds power over people. For some it’s a rite of passage that they can’t miss; for others, a fantasy destined to complete them, make them the person they were ‘meant to be’; for some proof legal and documented proof that they are loved; for some, it is the definition of security, stability, in a million ways from familial to financial; for some it’s the ‘start’ they have been waiting for; for some its an order straight from the heavens; for some a relationship, any relationship is lacking and in some way less unless married; for others, it is complete and utter ownership over another; and for some, it’s a quick march down the aisle to the gallows. Whether it's ecstasy or a nightmare, the thought of marriage is a dream.

As a kid I only saw married couples. I heard the positives, the beauty of building a life with someone. I saw couples meet, date an appropriate amount of time, marry, and build those lives. Like clockwork. Meet someone, date for 1-2 years, engaged 6 months-1 year, parents within 3 years. I saw the whole thing. Growing up in a church allows you a certain amount of familiarity with the lives and struggles of the rest of the congregation, and considering some will stay with one church their entire lives, you watch them build them, and burn them. It’s safe to say my life ran any which way but clockwork. Despite time racing by, these pre-destined scheduled life events didn’t rock up for me. And I was so relieved.

While time was passing and those around me were being consumed by relationships, both good and bad. I was able to again bear witness, but this time I was also listening. Being the non-verbal nodding head, the therapist, the sounding board, the advisor, the benchmark, the judge. Never the executioner, never giving final sentencing, no matter how badly I wanted to. Nevertheless, I found myself wondering again and again how these smart people ended up making such stupid compromises. Such lopsided compromises, so very against their core values, with such permanent repercussions. Everything was fair game. Career, home country, friends, family, kids, cultures, humour, taste, self-respect. Everything was a negotiation, a constant compromise. And as I watched, I realised the people who compromised less were often not the ones who were right, but the ones who were the stronger negotiator. Negotiation styles ranged from direct to nearly unnoticeable, from honest to manipulative. With emotions riding high, those involved found themselves handing out or handed ultimatums. Do this or we’re done. Be this. You be better for me. Grow for me. Change for me. Sacrifice for me. Choose me. Benefit me. No matter how good the intentions, both the couples that would survive these negations or not would still be marked by them.

When two businesses come to the table, they put their strongest representative forward, armed with a list of demands and dealbreakers. The company must know what it wants vs what it needs. What it’s willing or capable of, and more importantly what it’s not. And they have data to back it up. So much data, reports, analysis and preparation. When two people come to negotiate their relationship, similar steps are taken. But this time without the data, or even if they have all the information, a willingness to ignore it all and sacrifice. Crossing that unseeable line for ‘love’. To commit to a deal that leaves them with less than what they need, in the hope that love will cover the shortfall.

I refuse. Refuse. To pretend that I can live with less than what I need.

I am a strong negotiator. Some (many) would argue too strong. When I look at my relationships, I’m the first one out the door, sometimes in a literal way. I run. Flee. Straight for the hills (or airport), at any sign of discomfort. Not compromise, discomfort. I have compromised plenty. But that unshakable feeling in your being that something isn’t right, something intangible, something fundamental, is wrong. That discomfort that many choose to live with. I just can’t. I don’t have it in me. I don’t have the strength to sedate myself every day. I don’t have the energy to rationalise core primal feelings as I lay awake at night. To justify discomfort as a form of sacrificial love. And I guess that makes me weak?

Last summer ended up in a bar with my younger brother, one of my best mates, and both their partners. I had both a wonderful time, and an awful one. For the first time in my life, people whose opinions I legitimately cared about and valued were telling me how I could find someone, how I could change to meet someone, how if I did X I would attract the ‘right’ person, how I could feel whole, how I could meet my other half to my half a person. All their words were said in love. But it was the first time I had experienced the superiority of coupledom from people I cared about. It was the first time I sat at a table and everyone at it was showing nothing but pity. They interpreted my despondence at their opinions of me as a lack of hope in my ability to be in a relationship and proceeded to double down their efforts. Simultaneously, I realised this was the start. As my peers matched toward marriage for whatever reason, in their eyes I would be left behind. I had never introduced any of them to a partner of mine, and as such those relationships had not ‘passed’ the friendship test. But they had not needed to be tested. I knew what I needed.

I do not blame any of my previous partners for the ending of our relationships. I don’t see the relationships themselves as worthy of blame. I cherish our time together. But that’s what it was, a time. An era. I will always care for them. Want the best for them. Cheer for them. Be proud of them. And be here if they ever want the comfort of nostalgia. But I knew then who I was, and what it needed. And I know now. It’s difficult to explain that to people who choose to revolve around others. Difficult to explain why you won’t lose a negotiation or accept your partner trying to change you to those who believe that changing for someone is the only way to be loved.

To be clear, it’s not that I don’t value love, it’s that I hold it in such high regard that to distil it, dilute it, manipulate it in the pursuit of preservation is such an awful thing I can’t be a part of. I would much rather fill my life with temporary love. Fleeting love. Growing and changing love. Honest love. But a love that I make peace with. Love that fills my life with colour and joy. Love inseparable from adventure. Loves that see each other clearly, understand our limits and do not try to force their way through them.

Now with all of that said and done, do I want marriage? Yes. A part of me will always want marriage. I am at heart a pure romantic, the idea of love and being loved in equal measure, having the confidence in yourself and your skill as a spouse to say that you are capable of being what they need, and they are capable of giving you what you need. It’s a beautiful thing. that’s what marriage is to me. And you know what. I’m not there. I’m not the person I want to be when/if I marry. I don’t have the skills, the resilience, the willingness to negotiate needed for a marriage. Yet. These things may come in time, they may not. And if they do not, I don’t care. I won’t marry. Fine. I guess I’ll just carry on with my life. My life, full of love and joy and colour and adventure.

I did not wait for anyone to arrive before I started building my life. While I wish there was someone I could share it with, I know that is a dream. It is a dream that someone would arrive and perfectly, smoothly fit into my life, without me having to change a thing. It is fantasy that I would never feel alone, never feel questioned, never feel unseen in a marriage. But it is a fantasy I entertain, constantly.

So this year, for the first time ever. I will purposefully not be available for this fantasy. I will not wonder what love is on the next desk, what adventure is standing at the bar, what fantasy is hidden in an app. I will not be dating. For one year, all the energy, time and fantasy spent thinking about the perfect person arriving into my life overnight will be redirected to me. I will double down on my demands. I will allow no part of my subconscious to hold back on taking risks on the off-chance I may be swept off my feet. I will pour my fantastical imagination into my core value of creating. And it’s about bloody time.