Categories: random
Tags: musings, singleness, random
Date: 08 March 2006 20:57:18
No, not that "c" word ...
Thinking some more on the bus this morning, as a continuation of yesterday's thinking of scary thoughts, got me thinking about commitment (sound of lots of people running away :)). It's a concept I have an odd relationship with - I've often thought a good way to describe myself is a commitment-phobic desperate for commitment. When you look at what I've done with my adult life, one of the things which strikes a lot of people is just how many things I've done. Which is great on the one hand, but it means that (for example) I'm never going to keep my CV to just 2 pages, as there's too much to go there. My most recent job before moving here was the longest I've ever stayed in the same job, and that was only just over 2 years. It's something we touched on when I was having counselling, though we didn't have the time (plus there were other more pressing issues) to discuss it much, but it did worry me that I have a propensity to be bored after not that long and move on to the next thing, and I wondered what would happen if I found myself in a long-term relationship, would I get itchy feet then too and end up alone not because there weren't people there for me but because I couldn't hack it?
But this morning on the No.66, I saw it from a different angle. I think one of the reasons that I throw myself into something new and exciting and different every few years is because I'm replacing the committed relationship that I don't have with something else to try to make life more interesting. In effect, making short-/medium-term commitments to things because I haven't got anyone I'd be prepared or willing to give them up for. I had an interesting conversation with my lodger in London shortly before she moved out to her own place - she's a couple of years older than me, had recently split with the guy she'd been seeing for over 2 years, and when she was talking about leaving it so late to buy her own place she had said, almost embarrassedly, that the reason she hadn't got a mortgage years ago was because she had always expected to buy somewhere with a partner, and something about buying by herself felt like a more concrete admission that maybe, just maybe, marriage just wasn't going to happen for her. And you know, that's exactly what happened with me when I bought too (I think she was really relieved that I didn't think she was sad but knew exactly what she was talking about!). And although I loved my house and garden, being solely responsible for it seemed to reinforce the fact that I was a singleton and not married like most of my close friends.
When I was last seeing someone, it was just before I had to start applying to do the PhD here. I'd found out about the department and the uni and the course and all the rest of it before we were going out, and so had already informally started the process, but I was starting to think seriously about not applying as if the relationship had carried on then me moving to Scotland would have been really not helpful. The impetus that made me finally start the formal application process, following the informal contacts and meetings I'd already had, was us splitting up - yet another reason why I needed to move on. So, although it's good that I'm here, and good that I'm doing something that is starting to scratch that curiosity itch I'd had since doing my Masters degree, and great that I'm living in such a cool city, and all the rest of it, part of me has to face the fact that being here represents to me in quite a stark way the fact that the relationship didn't work out, and I could commit myself to 4 years in Glasgow because there wasn't someone special that I could commit myself to.
So one of the reasons that I found myself particularly freaked out by yesterday's scary thoughts is that if I were to commit myself to another heavy life-changing course, it would have to be a total commitment, and would represent yet another substitute to having that great life-changing relationship to commit to, and you know, I don't think I could face doing *yet another* commitment like that. I'm not getting any younger, and whilst that's not bothering me in a biological clock kind of way, I am progressively feeling more of a failure each year, even as I ratchet up more and more achievements and impressive things for the CV. It's ironic - the more I achieve, the more of a failure I feel.
I hope this doesn't make me come across as sounding desperate. I don't think I'm desperate - I'm just tired.