There's a popular saying that goes, "We accept the love we think we deserve."
For a long time, I wondered about the kind of love I was accepting. I wondered if my standards were too high and so I lowered them and settled, over and over again, for 'good enough'. I often tell people I've dated and met enough guys to know all the different types there are out there. I used to wonder if there was 'someone better' out there, something I was missing out on by choosing to settle with the best guy I could find who wanted me. Time and time again, it never worked out.
There was a season in my life that I used to wonder if it was just people like me - the soulful, free spirits who need space to dream and wander and explore and discover new adventures - that struggled with the thought of meeting the right one and finally 'settling down'. Those two words never quite sat well with me.
The idea of committing to someone who would become my best friend, who knew me inside and out, who brought out the best version of me, was certainly appealing - the old fashioned, old school kind of love where a guy would take risks just to impress the girl and win her heart, and where she would enchant and captivate him by her beauty and grace. The part of it that did not appeal to me, however, was giving up my own interests and dreams.
During that season, I used to think that the only way for me to truly be happy was to not be tied down - to hold close the people I connected with, but without being exclusive. Giving them their space to be them - and having my space to be me. Yet there was always the part of me that craved the knowledge that out of all the other people in the world, we chose to be faithful to each other.
My main struggle was how difficult it was to be completely myself and completely honest with the other person in committed relationships I'd been in. Once you start caring too much about another person, you start thinking you own them. You try to control their actions and choices. And oftentimes, you end up suffocating the other person.
It's different with strangers. With strangers, you can be completely honest and transparent - there's no withholding who you are because you are afraid of hurting the other person. Find the right time and place (late at night in a quiet location usually works well), and it's not difficult at all to pour out your entire life story and deepest darkest secrets to a mysterious, enchanting stranger over coffee or drinks. But try telling someone you've known for some time the things you struggle with the most, and it's not always as easy to open up. How will they react? Will they see you differently? Will they be angry at you for not telling them earlier? Will they try to give you unwanted advice? Will they want to be around you any less? There is so much more at stake.
Maybe you can't be lovers in a committed relationship, I thought. Maybe in committed relationships, the love is a pragmatic type of love based on companionship and mutual acceptance and understanding. The passionate, romantic kind of love is reserved for relationships that exist purely for the purpose of enjoying each other without the messiness of tying each other down with commitment. In my experience, relationships I'd been in had either been sparks and no commitment, or commitment and no sparks, neither of which suited my taste.
This month marks the 15th month since I started dating Alex. In my books, that's a record. One year and a quarter is five different seasons that have come and gone. In those seasons, I've changed and grown and had my perspectives turned inside out so completely that I feel sometimes like I'm a different person altogether. One of the things that past fifteen months have taught me is that it's worth choosing not to 'settle', but to keep hoping and holding out for the best.
Two years ago, I wrote a blog post about things I look for in an ideal partner. Some people told me my standards were too high and unrealistic, that I should look at myself first before asking for these things in a partner, some even questioning whether I worth all of the things I was looking for and asking me what if I found a guy who was all those things but who didn't think I was all that awesome. In fact, I got more flak than positive feedback from writing that post (you can read the comments by following the link above if you're curious). But I'm glad I wrote it, and I have absolutely no regrets or apologies, because exactly the right person who needed to read that post did read it, and thought that maybe he would have a stab at being that ideal person...
...and fifteen months into the relationship, I still have absolutely no regrets. I had my doubts, plenty of them. I questioned the lack of 'sparks' and why the relationship felt so platonic. But those 'spark-less' months revealed to me the enormous amounts of effort that both of us were willing to put into making the relationship work simply because of the amount of respect we had for each other as individuals. It surprised me, the number of times either one of us could have easily walked away, but we didn't. Because it's not every day you find someone who stands for the same values as you do.
And those months also taught me that while sometimes, 'sparks' fly at first acquaintance, other times, the flames take time to simmer beneath the surface before flickering to life. And I've learnt that I've found someone who can handle me at my worst, craziest moments, who can deal with the most ridiculous things I say, who accepts my need for long periods of alone time, my innate dislike for PDA, my inability to keep time accurately, how anal I am about grammar and using words that say what they mean, the experiences and memories I've had from all my previous relationships, and the occasional crushes I have on other people from time to time.
It's nice to have commitment in a relationship - the knowing there's someone you can always count on to have meals with if everyone else is busy, the usual 'Good morning' text, the predictable familiarity of someone you've become completely comfortable with. But it's also nice to have the spontaneity and freshness of constantly discovering new things about the other person in every new season life brings - and revealing new parts of who I am as I grow and change. It's nice to be able to be completely transparent and not be judged - to be able to say "There's this thing I really don't like when you do", or "I think you're really amazing but there's this guy I think is really amazing too. Not that I would ever want anyone else but sometimes you get mini crushes on people and find a new person really fascinating, you know what I mean?", or "This book absolutely changed my life. Would you want to read it too?" In all of the previous scenarios, it's been all too familiar to have the other person completely misunderstand, get angry, feel threatened or insecure, or worse, simply not even care.
But it takes someone special to see all those conversations as keys to discovering who I really am, stripped of all pretense and fronts, completely honest and vulnerable. And that's what being in a relationship is really about in the first place, isn't it? Knowing your heart is held in safe hands and being able to let down your guard. And knowing that you are able to do the same for the other person as well.
Looking back now, I'm glad I never settled. It's been a winding, curvy, bumpy road with plenty of detours and u-turns made along the way, but in the end, I've gotten everything I've ever wanted - and more. Despite what others have said and despite my own doubts, I've learnt that I've got a big-hearted, loving and generous Father up there who knows all my heart's desires and who gives abundantly above all I could ask. I am truly grateful.
