Expectations.

This one is entirely personal.  If you’ve been around me in the past month or two.  I’ve been on a soap box.  That is, I’ve had the chance to share with a steady voice about my journey through the study of singleness and the church.  You’ve probably also heard me say, that is, if you’ve been around me—that I finally feel like I’m settling into what it is to be a single person.  Hold on—let me say it again more clearly—I’m comfortable and I’m happy as a single person. 

It may seem like “I’m just saying that” but no—I really am very… content.  I had some of my favorite people in the world around this past weekend.  These two women are like sisters to me.  They are both married (one for two and a half years, one for five months). We had a lovely time drinking wine, watching girly movies, and going out for dinner.  I loved having them here.

There were two conversations that seemed to pertain in particular to my study.  In a way I was anticipating them—because we have had them before—but I listened with different ears this time around.  The first: “There are certain things I would have no idea how to deal with if my husband wasn’t around.  Jennie you are so independent—and that is truly amazing.”  And the second (over the course of a couple conversations): “A co-worker told me that she doesn’t get why you’re single—you’re so confident with who you are”—and similarly—“once you’re settled—maybe you can think about meeting someone on-line.”

The first statement, I think, was intended as a compliment and I took it as one.  I do a lot of thinking through things on my own.  And not only do I think through things on my own—I act on things on my own.  The thought though, that I’m completely independent, is false.  I lean into my community.  And so if heavy things need to be lifted I find someone.  If my computer is broken I call my brother.  If I have a car problem I’d call dad or find the nearest shop.  I’m independent—but I don’t think I’m more independent than anyone else who has a group of trusted loved ones near by.  And I’m also dependant in many, many ways. 

Do I think life would be more convenient if I had an immediate partner?  Yes.  Probably it would be nice to have someone to go to at every turn.  Someone to help with personal finances or do the dishes at the end of the day or a sounding board for big decisions, etc… but I have those things already. People in my community fill in the functions of a spouse in terms of partnership.  And I have companionship.  What I don’t have is a partner to be intimate with—and all of the things that come with that. But on that note—I don’t know what I’m missing—really.  (A side note:  I find it interesting that people in general assume that single hetero-sexual women don’t have a sex life.  Most adult human beings have sex lives.  Mine of course has boundaries around it—as it should—because of the trajectory of my vocation.)

So back to the second assertion from my friends.  Precisely, this business about finding someone on line (or really, any one at all one day).  Again, I so appreciate their intentions. But seriously, if marriage is a vocation—is it everyone’s path in life?  So maybe I’ll be single.  What is with the expectation that I should desire to change my state?  I remember telling my dad years and years ago that I’d be okay if I was single.  I have two aunts that are single.  They are just fine.  I know some single pastors.  I have single friends, men and women, young and old—and nothing is “wrong” with them.  They simply are—either by choice or because of things beyond their control.  Does society really expect that a single twenty something professional woman ought to want to get married and have kids? 

In truthfulness I think about what being married would be like.  I romanticize it sometimes—and then at other times, I look to my married friends to realize that it is so much more than just a romantic friendship that makes life easier.  I have no doubt that life could perhaps be even more complicated by marriage.  I also have no doubt that there can be a lot of happiness in married life.  (I can look at my parents and tell you that.)  I also believe that single people can be happy. 

Again, I think about the children that aren’t there—or may never be—I think about having children of my own sometimes—but I also don’t lament not having them yet.  I have heard from married friends without children that they also have expectations thrust upon them to be parents—because naturally, after you get married—children are “the next thing.” 

How do we help to encourage one another without putting our own hopes and expectations for a person on to them.  I may be single.  I might get married.  But either way, I hope I’m living into the work of the day.  I hope that I’m as comfortable with myself then as I feel now.  I would hope that I would be happy and surrounded by a community that could support me or keep me from being lonely, whether married or single.