Dating : Embarking on a Period of Planned, Intentional Singlehood

I have a lot of goals for the next couple of years. They’re not necessarily measurable but that’s okay. They’re nebulous ideas that surround one universal concept. I just want to be a happier person.

I consider myself happy now, but on most days it seems a surface level happy with a couple of truly satisfying days here and there. It’s those days I want more of. I’m looking for pure joy and deep contentment. The unfaltering kind that rarely leaves you.

I’ve intentionally removed one part of life off the table in this pursuit. None of my goals involve my love life.

Just because dating is a commonly accepted part of everyday life, it doesn’t mean we have to do it. We can remain open to what we eventually want in life without having to turn over every boulder to see if it’s there.

Along with a few other things, I had set an intention for 2020 of finding love. I told myself I would actively pursue it. I had it for a few fleeting moments until it slipped out of my hands, leaving me with nothing but a checkmark next to a list on my phone.

Oddly, I feel toward finding love much like I did about the first and only triathlon that I ran. I’m glad I can say I did it but don’t really feel the need to do it again any time soon.

Like the triathlon training, trying to find a relationship is a heavy energy expenditure. It’s hours of searching dating apps, texting that goes nowhere, and first dates that are disappointing.

I understand that is a pessimistic view of the situation. It’s also a very real assessment. I’ve been doing this for a while. There have been a lot of frogs and a few toads.

We all need a period of recalibration. Taking a time-out allows us to evaluate or own needs and level set our expectations. More than that, it gives us space to reflect on our past behaviors and find what has worked for us and what hasn’t, especially when we can’t keep going on as we have before.

In my last relationship, I dated differently than I had previously. In the past, I was low risk, high return. I expected magic to happen without doing anything to further that idea along. I half-assed it to keep myself safe.

This last time, I went fully high risk, high return. I mean, I went all in. It was hard but I learned I had it in me to give. I remembered how to love someone and how to do it courageously. I found strength I didn’t know I had.

What I need to do is find the space in between where safety and vulnerability can exist together. It’s a sweet spot I have yet to find.

Planned, intentional singlehood isn’t giving up. It’s our opportunity to look at our lives and find happiness in places outside of romantic relationships. We all need this in order to maintain our selves and our independence.

Though I have experienced some gut-wrenching disappointment, this is not about bitterness. I have no room for that, either. There’s not anger and it’s not an act of defiance. It’s about owning a choice and being happy with it.

My soul has more depth than being made for dating. It needs more. It wants more. I’m giving my soul what it wants.

By saying this is a planned period of intentional singlehood, I mean I’m actually going live with more intention.

When we focus heavily on finding and maintaining relationships, parts of our lives go slightly by the wayside. We forget interests. We leave work unfinished. Finding balance shows us our ability to maintain all aspects of our lives at the same time so nothing feels lost, only gained.

I’m investing in the relationships I already have. Deeply. I’m going all in there now. I keep my list of close friends tight and I am going to do everything I can to serve those friendships as best I can. I want to show up for that.

I want to fully take care of and build my space. It’s weird to think that I have come to a point in my life where organizing my garage or deep cleaning my freezer sounds like a better afternoon than sitting next to a stranger over a cocktail making small talk but here I am.

I’m going to spend time reading many of the hundreds of books in my house I’ve not gotten to. I want to pull knowledge from them and let them inspire my own actions and experiences.

I want to explore faith to finally figure out what I believe, why, and what it means for my life and who I am. I want to be of better service to others. I want to be the god damn good I want to see in the freaking world.

I want to grow. There’s still a need for that. Maybe I’m not as whole as I thought I was and maybe I’m not as strong, either. I hate admitting that because after 46 years and especially the last three, I should be where I want to be. But saying this isn’t weakness, it’s strength. I can be imperfect.

Shifting one’s focus to finding joy through internal resources, rather than external, is not easy but I think the pay off will be worth it. On occasion, it requires us to put things on a back burner so it doesn’t boil over. Maybe for some, it’s focusing less on work. Maybe it’s letting go of friendships that have run their course. For me, it’s the pursuit of love.

I don’t want deep and profound happiness to be a visitor in my life. I want it to set up permanent residence. To do that, I need to build it a home. I’m that home.