Aged only twenty-one, I have already found that despite my limited exposure to life in one’s twenties, it is in this decade that the frantic search to be properly coupled begins. This is not to say that teens do not experience proper, relationships, just that in their simplest forms, adolescent relationships tend to be exciting outlets in which one can channel a newfound adulthood. They are novel, and crucially- they do not often hold expectations that you shall be committing for as long as you both shall live. Don’t get me wrong, at twenty-one, most of my peers are not yet taking each other up the aisle, but the winds of change are coming; somewhere between ages eighteen and now, there is a small but significant shift in social culture, and a group mentality on the importance of romantic love begins to form…
I’m not sure exactly when it started but all I know is that suddenly we aren’t laughing about the foibles of a more distant friend’s chosen partner, we are keeping our mouths shut because she’s likely moving in with him, or more likely his parents. Suddenly, everyone is mentioning their first-time buyer ISA, what dog their partner wants when they move in together next year, and the logistics of finding an affordable property halfway between each’s hometown.
Fellow Singletons, I’m not going to lie to you, even if you try not to, you will probably feel isolated from being unable to partake in this conversational rite of passage. If you’re anything like me you’ll probably feel like being a little bit cynical in the wake of your newly realised ‘ready meal for one’ status in the world. You might think to yourself, the world has pretty much told me, in every song, book, and magazine- and EVERY Richard Curtis film- that this proper coupling would happen to me around now- and if these forms of media are to be believed it should have happened fairly easily, without looking for it, and when you least expected it. So, you might wonder… Why am I not properly coupled? Why am I not sipping drinks, and conversing cordially at a partner’s family Christmas party, answering questions on how we plan to use a homemade Excel spreadsheet to divvy up the bills when we move into our studio bedsit this summer? Why am I drowning in awful one-liners on dating apps? Or, worse still, speed deleting relatively unattractive suitors who comment things like, ‘You looked much better blonde’, ‘No thanks, but can I have your mate’s number?’, and, ‘I think if women actually understood Andrew Tate, there would be fewer problems in the world’- all real, and serve as a reminder that the Mr. Darcy to your Bridget Jones is not lurking in the depths of the app that was designed to be deleted.
Enough said on that, but for someone who was, up until now, quite happily self-defining as fairly non-committal, suddenly it’s easy to feel pretty small, pretty infantile, and pretty f*cking lonely- especially if you have a particular friend in your circles who exclusively discusses these topics intending to make you feel exactly this – don’t worry we have all met one of these people. Please don’t let them do this to you- they tend to be some of the most lonely, insecure, and unhappy people, who will get off on watching you wallow, so don’t give them the satisfaction.
However, if you’re lucky like me, and you don’t have these negative forces in your life, and instead are fortunate enough to have friends who are closer to family, you might wonder still why you’re being such a cynic- in your day-to-day life, you have beautiful friends, some of whom are in wonderful relationships with people who treat them well and you indeed care for. Every time you get an update on these relationships you feel a surge of genuine pride and happiness for them, much more so than you ever do over your life updates. So why are you so cynical about the concept of romantic love?
I’m here to tell you it isn’t your fault. Unfortunately for you, you have been mis-sold on the notion of romantic love for decades; you have been drip-fed unrealistic expectations. The world is so often consumed by the rhetoric of an intoxicating romantic love, and this storyline doesn’t just sell, it is best sold as the ‘optimum desire’ for a woman. Conversely, the very worst outcome for a woman is marketed as becoming a no.1 undesirable and left an abandoned pariah in the world of romantic love.
With the close friends I am privileged enough to have, I do not feel this way. I have felt cared about, prioritised, and valued as a person in their lives, regardless of their relationship status. This is how life should be; whilst there is a balancing act to be played, there isn’t a choice to be made at the end of it. We don’t have to choose between romantic and platonic love in our twenties, or ever really- but especially not our early twenties. This is a time to have it all relationship-wise if you should want it. A time to love and cherish connections with your partner, and your friends and family; it is a time to be broken up with, to find out what suits you and what doesn’t and to know you have a network of platonic relationships to guide you back home when it all goes awry.
While romantic relationships may ebb and flow, the connections we share with our platonic loves, are designed to weather the storms of life, and provide a stable foundation for personal development and growth, should you choose to have these relationships with friends, they will provide safe havens of support and companionship and will feel symbiotic, rather than self-serving.
Platonic love, in its essence, is a lifelong journey of shared experiences, laughter, and tears, fulfilling an emotional need distinct from anything romantic love can provide, and a chance to be valued and cherished for who you are, and not what you provide in terms of a partner’s romantic needs.
I consider sharing in these relationships with those that I love to be one of life’s greatest privileges. In a world that frequently capitalises on the grandeur of romanticism, we have to remember
as much as we may love ‘Bridget Jones’, it is outdated and unrealistic. Mr. Darcy isn’t real, let alone heading your way just because you too are a fairly thin, blonde, vodka-drinking smoker, who early noughties script-writers would call overweight.
So, instead of worrying that your Mr. Darcy might never come along, instead, look for your Shazzers, your Judes, and your Toms, because they are going to be the ones drying your eyes and weathering you through the storms come what may. I can promise you from lived experience that it is these connections that are the threads that weave the fabric of our social tapestry, offering support, and emotional fulfilment, and making life one that is worth living