September means another birthday has come and gone; it also means I’ve successfully made it another year without getting married or having kids. As a young boy I assumed, like a lot of people, that the universe would eventually plop me into a life that included a wife and children, fulfilling the predictable prophecy of the “American Dream.”
However, many decades later, that has not been the case for yours truly.
People could have a field day formulating hot takes as to why I’ve entered my early 40s as unmarried swine, but the answer is clear: it’s never been a priority.
I know there are so many people who’ve dreamed of creating their own families, and I’m happy for them. My youngest sister has been with her husband for 20 years (literal teenage sweethearts), and they have four lovely children. Doing the whole marriage + kids thing has never been something that I’ve intentionally chased after. The theoretical window has always been open, but out of the corner of my eye I’ve watched it slowly close as I get older and wiser (wiser = being less naive about how the romantic world works).
One thing I need you to know is that I’m not sitting here feeling sad because I’m alone, or looking for sympathy. I am where I am by choice. I’m as introverted as they come, and damn near yearn for the parts of the day where I don’t have to interact with other living creatures. But a lingering question that’s been in my head recently is, ‘Have I always been this introverted, or would I have grown accustomed to family life had I settled down early like nearly everyone else I know?’
Had that girl in 2006 said “You’re the one for me,” would we have lived happily ever after? Would we have built a beautiful life together that’s still going nearly two decades later? Or how about the lady from the early 2010s? Would I be typing this newsletter article from our home in some city that’s not here, amongst the chaos of a house full of teenagers?
By the way, both of these women in 2025 are happily married to wonderful people, and they each have children. I’m happy for them, and I’m past the age of doing that retroactive limerence thing. But wondering how my life would’ve turned out if certain pieces would’ve shifted a certain way…I think looking for a clear answer is a waste of time because the answer to “What if…” doesn’t matter.
“What now?” is the more appropriate question to think about these days. Do I maintain my self-reliant, self-serving level of independence that therapists would classify as a trauma response to the repeated inability of people to simply show up? Or do I barrel through the discomfort of feeling like all of my time is being taken from me in the hopes of enjoying the extended presence of someone else’s company? Kind of like how you’d eat the same meal prep meal 27 days in a row in the hopes that you’ll eventually enjoy it if you eat it enough.
Has being alone and operating as an individual for 98.8% of my 40+ years of life put me in a position where I’m averse to the thought of creating a life that includes taking another person’s existence into account?
If we’re keeping it real, the answer has to be yes. But also, have you seen the sea in which single people are fishing these days?
There are plenty of beautiful-looking single people walking around, but you don’t have to look very far online to see countless tales of nightmarish romantic encounters and details of disappointingly lazy daters. Heck, my last dive into these waters involved someone (who was interested in me) canceling and no-showing multiple times.
I understand that relationships are a high-risk, high-reward play that’s the equivalent of a coin flip when it comes to whether or not they’ll work out. But is this really how I want to spend the second half of my life? Chasing after unavailable single people until it’s time for me to retire to Florida to investigate the freaky deaky (https://www.palmbeachpost.com/story/opinion/2024/06/29/loofahs-at-the-villages-in-florida-a-code-for-swingers-wife-swapping/74256365007/) rumors of what’s happening down in The Villages?
So I find myself circling back to the “it’s never been a priority” thing. There’s nothing to compel me to move forward. I’m not interested in dating just to date…or being in a relationship to fill a void…or having a partner to be my “future caretaker” plan. There are better ways I can spend my time than chasing the romantic validation that’s eluded me my entire life. However, the “Preston Meyers” deep inside of me can’t help but leave that window slightly cracked just in case there’s an “Amanda” out there somewhere, somehow.
And if not, I look forward to becoming a male version of how to live a long, stress-free life.
I’m 64 years old, never married, but had two children (9 years apart) from two different men. My dad had said to me, just before his sudden death at age 56, “Don’t get too set in your own ways or you’ll never let anyone in.” Well, I guess it was too late. I’m still friends with the last man I dated. We met the day after OJ Simpson went on his murder spree and dated on-&-off until 2007. We’d probably have continued that had he not gotten in a serious ATV accident out of state, which resulted in him being housebound for quite some time and I was working and had a teenage son still living at home. What I’m getting at is, I don’t think I’m missing anything. Unfortunately, I think my 34 year old son is taking after his mother! He’d be such a great husband and father and I hope it happens if it’s the right person. I do have four grandchildren. My daughter has four children: 3 sons and our little princess Kahlia.
I hope you find whatever makes YOU happy Doc! We’re all rooting for you!