The Three Year Itch

Every relationship of mine grows restless around the three year mark, including my current solo relationship with myself.

In six weeks, I will have been single for three years. This is the longest I’ve been single since my adult dating life began. For the past decade, I was a serial monogamist, single for a year or two here and there, never fully forced to consider getting to know myself as my own partner for life.

Yes, the thought of “would I find someone whom I just clicked with,” “would I know when I had met someone worth investing in,” crossed my mind. But I never had to face real questions of lifelong solitude, constant reframing on what a family could look like, wondering if the boat of eligible bachelors had truly sailed.

But you don’t start asking yourself those really uncomfortable questions until life alone becomes a very real possibility. The positive side to all of this - and yes, there is a positive to being single for a prolonged period of time - especially in your 30s, is that you’re forced to be there and be enough for yourself. This means figuring out what you’re interested in, what you want to try, what causes and values you want to get behind. And I’m not saying you can’t have these conversations if you’re taken, but most couples I know rarely have the time to ask these questions and actually search for the answers.

There’s a lack of urgency to find one’s self when you’re in the arms of your lover because you’re happy and you feel fulfilled, so you might be less likely to search. Doesn’t mean you won’t search. There are plenty taken individuals with whom I’ve had inspiring conversations with, but they are also irritated at themselves at the lack of time they have to immerse themselves in something more than their work and their relationship or families. And this isn’t to say that every single person north of 30 is searching for the light.

Being single for a prolonged period of time allowed me to jump on even the silliest of interests, like thinking I could learn to skateboard on a Penny past 30 (I’m still learning), painting the most abstract of ideas to my heart’s content (I’m still dabbling), writing about my deepest thoughts (I’m still struggling). But, that’s just it - it gets you to experiment with the boundaries of your comfort zone and try. It’s about to lead me to more volunteering not just for the sake of volunteering but with a cause it’s taken me three years to figure out was part of my calling, sign up for improv workshops as a way to become the type of person I typically crush on, and a daunting side hustle that helps reveal the vast array of thoughts in my head.

The gift of solitude has made me realize things I like and ways I want to spend my time. Most of us single or not, are typically not fans of solitude as they make us breathe, reflect and if done right, adjust. It’s scary to adjust because there’s no blueprint for charting these new paths and most importantly, it means changing parts of ourselves. This is especially hard when you’re single because you don’t have a cheerleader constantly reminding you “you’ve got this,” it’s up to you to be that cheerleader or recruit family and friends.

I’m not saying that being in a relationship is the be all and end all. I know friends who aren’t happy in their marriages, stuck in their long term relationships, unable to leave due to children or the fear of being alone. What I am saying is that our relationship with our self is more important than any relationship we’ll ever have.

Those who are single have the gift of being selfish enough to prioritize themselves and work on where they want to go. And if you’re in a relationship - whether it’s an unhappy or happy one - do yourself a favour and find time to focus on you and what makes you feel whole again. Take time for solitude and wrap your arms around yourself, reminding yourself you’re the best lover you could find for you.