There tends to come a point in every telephone conversation at which there is a pause. A very pregnant sort of pause. A kind of settling, a hunkering down almost. The preliminaries are over, the necessary small talk exhausted. The ‘what have you been up tos ‘and the ‘how are the childrens’ are done and dusted and the two callers can finally now get down to the real matters at hand. Finally they can now ask the questions they have really wanted to ask all along, without appearing rude.
My oldest friends especially are a fairly nomadic bunch, and have been scattered far and wide by wanderlust and circumstance. Consequently rather a lot of my friendship maintenance now takes place over the telephone. Calls come out of the blue at strange times, and I’ll pick up to hear familiar voices shouting excited hellos down intermittently bad lines: “It’s me! How are you?” I’ll generally be fine – perhaps work will have been a bit stressful – but mostly fine. The kids will be great… yes, I will say, the eldest still loves reading and yep I’m afraid the youngest still loves bossing the rest of the family mercilessly about. Then will come the pause, the very pregnant sort of pause, and after it the inevitable question:
“So….. You seeing anyone?
I don’t know quite why this question annoys me so much. It’s not that I think it’s none of their business, I mean I suppose technically it isn’t, but the fact is I do sometimes discuss relationship issues with my female friends, and besides, I know they’re only concerned with my happiness. I think it’s more the assumption – even from very independent women – that because I’m single, finding a new partner is – or should be – a priority. And it just isn’t. I’ve got three children to support – I am actually far more concerned with finding myself a reasonably well paid and permanent job. As for personal fulfillment, well I hope I never cease to be struck by the glorious irony of my autonomy doing far more for my self esteem than any relationship ever did. And of course I have my writing.
Writing was always something that I had wanted to do, but didn’t because I was afraid of not being any good at it. There seemed no real point in putting anything down on paper because then what would I do with it? I couldn’t show it to anyone, what if it was rubbish? What if they shuffled about desperately damning it with faint praise? The thought made me curl inwards with embarrassment. Anonymous blogging has been a revelation for me in that it has given me an opportunity to have a go at writing, but not only that, to be able to share my efforts with other people without any of the emotional investment and pressure attached to showing it to someone who knows me.
But I am veering off on a tangent. Back to the original point of the post. It’s not that I don’t miss anything about being in a relationship, nor that I am dead set against one. If a man who just happened to be sexy, interesting, clever, witty, independent, slightly left leaning, kind and lovely but still with a bit of an edge, walked into my life, that would – I’m sure – be wonderful. It’s more that the things I miss the most are not the things that people tend to assume women want. At 35 (just) I have long completed my family and do not want any more children. Nor do I wish to share my home. I much prefer having the majority of my free time to myself to read, write, see friends, and pursue my own hobbies. I do not want a partner as such – it is not companionship I miss. It is excitement. The excitement of strong mutual physical and intellectual attraction, of anticipation and longing, of fun. I don’t need a man for practical, economic or emotional support. But I miss sex – is that such a shameful thing to admit?
However – and it is a big however – all this does not mean I wish to be having casual sex. I certainly don’t. Sex that is devoid of any emotional attachment inevitably leaves one disappointed in my opinion. Nor would I countenance becoming involved with someone who was already involved with someone else. And therein lies the problem. In my experience, men my age tend to want either to begin a family and settle down, or they want a casual bit on the side. I don’t want either of those things but something in between – a loving, respectful and monogamous relationship with someone I really like, or even love, but who does not expect to monopolize my time or move in. I’m not holding my breath.
One particularly helpful friend did at one point suggest that I try placing an ad in The Guardian’s Soulmates, but honestly, can you imagine what sort of response I’d get if I wrote what I’d written here – that I wasn’t looking for a partner as such and that I was mostly looking for ‘excitement’? Ahem. I think not. Besides, I don’t care enough about finding a relationship to go actively looking for one. Someone will either turn up or they won’t I suppose. I am however following Slummy Single Mummy’s trek through the internet dating jungle with interest. I’m working on the assumption that if a woman of her caliber can find someone that fits her bill, then there’s bound to be hope for me too.
One day.
Good luck to you! lol!
Why the lol? Did I write something funny?
I was single for a long time before I summoned up the courage to start dating. And, weirdly, it wasn’t until I finally got to the point where I was happy just being me that the relationship thing began to work. I think sometimes you just need to be yourself before youcan attract the right person. When we try too hard we give off the wrong signals and attract the wrong people. If you’re happy as you are what else is there for anyone to know or even expect of you? Sounds to me like you’re doing great. And should a wonderful guy be out there and be lucky enough to catch your eye… well, then the world is your oyster and good for you. Until then. The world is your oyster.
P.S. Your writing is great and I personally really rate it.
Yes I think you’re right. It’s important to me that I have a permanent job and am financially independent for a start, before I really become involved with anyone again. I have been in the position of being financially dependent on a partner, and found it to be a horrible trap, although I do realise that was just my experience and that it works o.k. for some couples.
Also thank you for the kind words of your p.s. It’s always especially nice to receive a compliment like that from someone whose writing you really rate too.
Oh, I feel your pain. I’ve been single for oooh, seven years now, and I don’t think I’m ever going to meet a man ever again. I’ve actually been writing a blog post about this subject, haven’t finished writing it yet.
Will keep an eye out for that post Notsupermum. Will be interesting to hear your perspective on a similar situation. x
I hear you, Gappy, and I don’t think it’s remotely shameful to admit you miss sex but aren’t actively looking for a relationship. Isn’t it odd how people are desperate to match their single friends up? I imagine that can get more than a little irritating.
As for your writing, it keeps me coming back. Are you doing any creative writing at all?
Thanks Charlotte. I’m not really doing any creative writing at the moment. Sometimes I quite like the idea of writing a book of short stories, but I haven’t really got much past the basic idea. How’s your book coming along?
Wanting excitement in your life as you describe it sounds ideal. At least you have a clear picture of what you want in a relationship.
Yes, I suppose that at least makes it easy to weed out the unsuitables!
The extent of people’s misplaced, well intended interference never ceases to amaze me. I have had similar very pregnant pauses in conversations over the years (although you’d have to imagine replacing your singledom with my empty-wombdom). Am very annoyed for you that those close to you don’t think that you’d divulge if there was something worthy of note by you to them. Why do people insist on asking the questions to fill the silences? Why are THEY so awkward about it but are never able to see that that’s what it is?
I hadn’t thought of it like that, but I’m sure you’re right – that it’s just them projecting their feelings about what it would be like to not have a partner onto me. They think they wouldn’t like it, so they assume that I must not too. It is a drag when other people project their awkwardness onto you though isn’t it? Like you say – if you had something you wanted to tell them, you would.
Oh I hope you didn’t mind me teasing you the other week about the policeman (who was a woman). I can see it must be really irritating to have people go on to you about it – like you say, it’s none of their business and if you had news, you would tell them if you wanted to. When I was trying for baby number two, I got positively sick of people asking me when I was going to have another.
I admire your thinking – it’s not a priority, your children come first and being financially independent. But then you’re pretty special so that figures. He’ll turn up I’m sure – just when you’re least expecting it.
Oh no of course not – that was funny! Completely different to people asking in all seriousness. And it’s funny you should mention people asking you when you were going to have another child because people still ask me if I’m going to have another! I just stare blankly at them.
Very interesting post. I have a few single friends and I do try not to ask them about men and relationships as otherwise it does seem to overemphasis. I work on the presumption that if they have something to share, I am sure they will.
You seem very content with your lot and men are often attracted to conifident women who are not on the look out. So maybe that nice man will come along to satisfy that one missing element!
Mich x
Sometimes I think that if something were to happen to my relationship, I wouldn’t want a new one. But I can totally see how people around me would assume otherwise.