Jan 06, 2008 18:51
Something I've been thinking about alot lately, especially since I got the third fucking degree from my mother this christmas, is whether I should be OK with being single. After alot of thinking and some research (yes, i'm a nerd) I think I've finally come to a conclusion. I love being single, and maybe it won't be always what I want or need, but for where I am in my life, it's what I need.
Having never viewed being single as some angst-ridden way station, I relish the luxury of pure independence, a state synonomous with 'anything is possible'. Not thinking of it as 'alone' but rather 'free,' I'm perplexed by women who while away these unshackled, potentially exhiarating times either with the wrong person, or feeling sorry for themselves.
Of course, our antiquated gender roles se rakish men enoy culturual immunity while female libertines are judged malfunctioning reprobates. It's a double standard, however laughable and provincial, that has women equivocate over the notion of having (never mind enjoying) sex not swaddled in standart precepts of love, or else obsessed with the propaganda that they're inadequate if not romantically attached. Convincing women that they're deficient is the last great way of making them play by second-class rules.
While being madly in love is the loveliest madness, settling for less is....precisely that. Handicapped on a playing field with two sets of regulations, women wind up in serial twosomes with men who conveniently equip them with such amenities as guiltless sex, social escorts and financial stability, but for whom they can only work up half mast affections for. Personally, I'd rather be independent, exercising my freedom, desires and enjoying it all immensely. Who cares what others think, as H.G Wells put it 'moral indignation is jealousy with a halo'.
Frankly, the past year has been hard. Dealing with love/relationships and all the crap that comes with it is an unbelievable chore. There is nothing more all consuming than being with someone else, and while it has it's rewards, they are often few and far between. I mean really, is there anything quite so futile and draining as loving the wrong person? These past few months since my pointless devotion finally evaporated have been spectaular. So much so that I've gotten my zest for life back. There is so much I want to do, so much I want to accomplish, and instead of feeling hopeless - I feel invigorated. This must be my silver lining.