If you are left-handed, you’ve probably noticed who else is left-handed—in a classroom, a meeting, or especially as you sit down to dinner. If you are right-handed, you probably haven’t.
Why?
The world is made for right-handed people.
I am left-handed, and I knew from a young age that this was not “normal.” I was told in school, “Oh, well, just do it the opposite way.” This happened in Kindergarten when I was trying to cut with scissors made for right-handed people. This happened in basketball and volleyball. Or when my grandmother tried to teach me to crochet.
I heard again and again, “Figure it out on your own.”
The world is not only made for right-handers; it is also made for couples. This is something the coupled might not realize, but singletons are often painfully aware of that fact.
Some choose the single life. Other times, it is thrust upon a person, whether they want it or not. Still others might be living a single life for all intents and purposes, because they might be in long-distance relationships, or non-traditional ones.
In many ways, those of us who are single are, like left-handers, left to figure it out on our own.
As in the carbon monoxide detector is going off in the middle of the night. Should I call 911 like it says and stand in the street in my nightgown? Or is the detector just malfunctioning?
Or the toilet in the basement is running because the thing-a-ma-jig inside is broken. How in the hell do I fix that?
These things can happen to anyone. It’s just that when you are single, it’s all on you—the job, the health insurance, the garbage can that is always, always full.
As I try to manage my own alone time, I’ve been paying attention to the single people in my small town. There’s the woman who sits outside the coffee shop day after day. The guy who wanders around town with a camera. The woman who gardens eight hours a day. The man who walks as much as I do.
Being alone can be pity-adjacent. There can be a feeling sorry for, a judging. It’s often considered “not normal,” and from there, it doesn’t take long to get to, “How empty your life must be.”
And, in truth, being single can feel like an eternal emptiness. Time slows. Like a sloth. In a river. Of. Mo.Las.Ses. The walls hold the silence in until it is deafening, and the demons come out and play.
The assumption is that it is easier to be with someone. And it can be. But not always. Single doesn’t mean broken. Coupled doesn’t mean whole.
The only thing we can say for sure is human means human. We come into this world alone, and that’s how we leave it. And no matter how loved we are, or how supported we are, there are still times when we all have to be alone.
The surgeon’s knife. The needle delivering chemo. Those things are aimed at one body and one body alone.
Whether you are right-handed or left-handed, single or coupled, whether life is going swimmingly or life is piling on, make yourself the most powerful self you can be. If you can convince yourself that you are okay, fierce, amazing, a force to be reckoned with, then it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. And it doesn’t matter who is or is not in the room with you.
Because there you are, manifestly enjoying yourself. There you are, shining, and living light.
Thank you for shining in so many ways.
This is brilliant. Hope for the humans! Thanks.