I always believed there was one person for me. My destiny. My twin flame. My soulmate.
Growing up glued to ever-so-nostalgic 2000’s Disney shows, I dreamed of one day finding the Troy to my Gabriella, the Shay to my Mitchie, my “Prince Charming,” even.Â
I went to a co-ed school my whole life and constantly romanticized every male relationship or friendship I had: “We are so meant for each other , OMG, we are so alike. He’s definitely the one.” But spoiler alert, they were in fact not the one.
I remember one of my high school professors telling us about Plato’s myth of the “Wheelie People.” He explained to us that according to the ancient Greek myth, when people were originally put on the world they were physically connected. They had two faces, four arms, and four legs and would wheel around as one. They were so happy, and so content (as they had no heartbreak in their lives!) that they started to forget about the gods. This did not go down well with Zeus at all, as he loved the attention. So, in one fell swoop of his thunderbolt, he cut the Wheelie people in two and scattered them across different corners of the world.Â
This has been the theory as to why people feel so lost. That when people are on their own they are weaker, more vulnerable even, all because they are looking for their “other half.” It feels like there is another person that “completes us” and without them we are incomplete. Obviously, this whole story just spiraled my unattainable ideologies for love even further.Â
I started my first relationship when I was about sixteen. Again, during that “first love/honeymoon stage” type of relationship, I really thought I had met my soulmate. We made plans for the future, idealized our lives and our wants, and felt destined for each other. However, as all first loves must, the relationship came to an end. The soulmate bubble had popped and I was right back where I started.Â
The years that followed consisted of a lot of self-reflection. I still believed that there was someone for me but maybe not in the soulmate sense. Why is there so much pressure to find “the one?” Is it not an unattainable standard? I do believe that compatibility and connection are huge attributes in a relationship, but is there really such a thing as a soulmate? During these years I also began to focus more on my female friendships. I had always been the girl who was boy-oriented. Always having a boyfriend or being surrounded by guy friends was exhausting. Correction: men are exhausting.
The friends that I gained and the friendships that grew over those years were integral to my personal growth. I had never felt more understood, supported, and inspired by the people that surrounded me. It made me think about the idea of the “platonic soulmate.” This seemed something more realistic to me, maybe because I had never put pressure on finding one. A platonic soulmate is someone you feel a deep relationship with but without the element of romantic interest.Â
Another change I made (not necessarily purposefully) was that I started spending a lot more time with myself. In the past, I had always felt the need to always surround myself with people—whether that be at parties or just seeing people one on one. I almost felt afraid to be alone. However, once I began spending more time with myself, I realized that it isn’t really all that bad. I was able to do things that purely benefitted me. I didn’t have to worry about how what I was doing was affecting other people. In doing this I discovered that maybe the person that is “my person,” is really just myself. It wasn’t a sad feeling—more one of comfort.Â
Maybe there is one person that everyone is destined to be with. Destiny and fate are forces that constantly play into every aspect of our lives. But also, maybe the idea of a soulmate is outdated. At the end of the day the person who you always know will be there for you and will have your best interests at heart, is you! As long as that relationship is healthy and sustainable, everything else will fall into place.