(work / jars of clay)
I'm a better person when I'm alone.
Somehow (and I'm still not sure how) I've managed to have long-term boyfriends for the better part of the last 7 years, and when I wasn't actually in a relationship I was working toward one, which is a form of relationship in its own right. And frequently when I talk to my single friends about relationships, I am uncomfortably aware of the fact that I haven't spent a whole lot of time on my own. I imagine that if I spent most (or all) of my life single, I would feel a decent amount of resentment toward the girls who managed to find a guy without trying too hard, and I always feel somewhat guilty when I talk to lonely girls who are looking for someone with whom to share their lives.
But here's the weird thing... I don't know if my lengthy experience with relationships has necessarily been ideal. When I am alone, it doesn't scare me as much as I think it should. Those brief periods of singledom tend to be accompanied by independence and clarity of thought, and I am much more focused on my faith and my intellect than when I am with someone. Granted, it's entirely probable that I'm more afraid of being alone than I realize, and as a consequence I automatically turn toward what I know to be an immovable foundation, but the underlying reason is less important than the result it provokes. I also have never had to deal with being alone for more than a few months, so this theory might not hold up after a year of loneliness. But that's not the point either.
What I'm getting at is this: it's so much easier for me to be a person when I'm on my own. I always tell people that it's no good to change your personality when you meet someone you like, because if you want to be in a relationship you have to be honest. So when I am alone I am pointedly myself in my behavior, I keep my own counsel, and I have less trouble making decisions. I have plenty of projects to work on and I'm something of a hermit these days, so I don't mind spending time by myself. It's actually a pretty good setup all things considered, because I don't mind taking care of my own business leaving well enough alone.
But I also love the adventure and the challenge of relationships. I love the concept of marriage, and what it means to love someone, to create one life out of two, to balance strengths and weaknesses and personalities. I want someone to love, someone who looks at marriage and life and family the way I do.
It's just that when I'm actually in a relationship, I become someone else. I have a traditional/conservative understanding of gender roles and I want a man who isn't afraid to step it up and be responsible—but somehow my brain translates "stepping back to let him work" into "acting like a complete fucking idiot." Now that I have someone to talk to about my ~~feelings~~ and to bounce ideas off of, I do it ad nauseum until I turn into a nervous wreck. I believe so strongly in honesty that I go overboard, and not only do I feel everything, I have to share it and talk it out and make sure that my feelings haven't had the wrong effect and what are his feelings and what do we do about this?
... it gets to the point that I hate myself, because ... I'm not myself. I'm someone else. Someone pathetic and useless and really just plain obnoxious.
It's easier to be alone, because there's so much less on the line. It's not that relationships are work (although they are) ... it's that I'm afraid they're going to end. And that fear ends up biting me in the ass because I'm so busy trying to be perfect that I forget to be Piera, which is what landed me the gig in the first place.
So when it comes down to it ... this is why I've never spent that much time single. Because I don't need to—my challenges lie in the relationships themselves. I let the fear of losing someone get in the way of trusting God; I create a ridiculous image of the girlfriend I "should be" and beat myself up for not being able to be her. I periodically wonder if it would be better to just give up and be alone. I'd be missing out on the family/kids thing... but at least I'd keep my figure...?
And then I remember, and am consequently completely humbled by, the fact that God's design even includes putting us up against the very things we fear and hate, just so we learn to fight them.
I just wish I could realize this in the actual moment, instead of in the bizarre occasions when I am taken out of it.
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