My Weirdness - Part 4 - Happily Single

In my late twenties and early thirties, this scenario played out countless times.

Friend or parent of student:  "Beth, how old are you?"
Me:  "Thirty.  Why, who do you do want to set me up with?"
Friend or parent of student:  "How did you know?  He's a great guy; you'll love him.  If only he didn't have (insert deal-breaking flaw here)."

People mean well.  I know they do.

I'm sure they do.

I think they do.

Maybe they don't.

Maybe they are just living under the illusion that a person must be married to be happy.  Forget about whether two people are in the same place in life or share the same values or want to date someone or would even be compatible.   "We know single people of different genders," they say, "and we cannot stand for that."  This ranged from public school students wanting to set me up with their currently imprisoned older brother to a teacher friend who wanted me to date her alcoholic neighbor.  "He's great," she said.  "I just wish he were a Christian."  Really?  You thought the person's lack of faith was an afterthought, hardly worth mentioning until the end of this conversation?  Shut up, please.

Okay, this rant is over.  Here's the deal. Back then, I actually was looking.  I really did think God's plan for my life was to be a wife and mother.  As often happens, however, God led in another direction (at one time in my life I thought God's plan was for me to be an astronaut, but I was wrong about that as well).  I was about 31 when I finally felt that God was impressing upon me that I was to remain single.  This was more freeing than you might think, and the peace that came from it let me believe that it really was God and not me just giving up.  I have been happily single ever since.

I'm not going to say I am never lonely, although I will tell you that it is seldom when I am alone.  I'm not going to tell you I don't have normal human desires.  I certainly do, and just like any other person attempting to live a Godly life, I must lay those desires before the Lord.  I'm not going to say that there is never a time when I think it might be nice to come home to someone at the end of the day.  Certainly, when I am particularly tired or sad or angry or even happy, it would be lovely to have someone to share that with.  (And, yeah, Valentine's Day is just a day when you want to go to bed on the 13th and wake up on the 15th because you can't even go to the grocery store without an assault of cultural stupidity.) None of that, however, is the hard part of being single.

The hard part of being single is that no one* thinks you can be happy being single.  No one believes that the only thing I regularly have a hard time doing for myself is fastening a bracelet.  No one believes that virginity isn't really that difficult.  No one believes a person can live alone without being crippled by fear.

People, God equips you for the plan he has for your life.  I have been in training to be single since the day I was born.  When I was growing up, my dad's job took him out of town frequently.  That meant that we were home without an adult male most of the time.  My mom never acted like she thought that was dangerous.  I was never taught to equate being alone with being in danger.  My dad also always involved the entire family in repair projects, so I never learned that I needed someone else to solve problems.  I was a dork in middle and high school (and some would say ever since then as well), so I never dated.  I never learned to depend on a relationship for emotional fulfillment.    I watched girls date guys they hated because they thought it was better than not dating.  I never learned to believe that I was incomplete without a man.

This post is supposed to be about teaching, so here's how it applies.  One of the great things about being an adult dork is that students like it.  They tend to think I am cool for precisely the reason that I am authentically a dork.  Because of that, I have the opportunity to influence students on a daily basis.   Some of that influence is intentional and overt, but some of it comes from just living my life in front of them.  When they see that I am not sitting in a corner pining away for a man to "complete me" (stupidest line in romantic movie history, by the way), I have influence.  I hope that I teach girls that they don't need to date trash just to be dating.  I hope that I teach boys that they are not the saviors of their girlfriends.  I hope that I teach kids that marriage means too much to treat it lightly.  I hope, most of all, that I teach students that following God's plan (rather than following cultural expectations) is the only way to live.

*When I say no one, I really mean very few people, but it doesn't sound as good in the sentence.