My Lonely Ring Finger and the Scandal of Desire
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
I cannot tell you how many times I've been given this "consolation".
You may be wondering, what is this about? Isn't that a bit cryptic?
Well, in this case specifically, this is in regards to being single...and wanting that state in life to end. In the best way, of course--that being in a relationship which (goodness willing) would lead to marriage.
And the above quote is what I have been told, even rather recently, as a condolence from an acquaintance who is no longer experiencing that state of constricting singularity, and will be married soon.
Why is it that as soon as people who understood the longing and pain in your heart when they themselves were single, after the start of a relationship in their own lives, have no idea how to relate to you? And, surprisingly, have no idea how to understand the pain of your own longing, the longing they themselves just had? Why is that bridge of thought so difficult to take a leap back and forth from?
Now, that is not to say that no one who goes from being single to in a relationship cannot empathize, or at least relate, but let's face it--the opposite happens more often than not.
So, dare I do so, I'm going to be rather blunt and vulnerable about my own life and experience in this post, which I can only hope will lead me to a better understanding of myself and the state of life I am currently in (and admittedly, am quite unhappy with). Come along for the ride, if you'd like. It will be interesting, to say the least.
Yes, I am single.
Have I always been that way?
No.
I'm sure you picked up on that from the obvious lacing of bitterness and venom in the previous statements (I'd pretend to apologize for that, but I don't feel like being editorial today).
I have been through many long nights (too many to count), tears soaking my pillow, sobbing out questions that were (and still are) ultimately unanswered, going back and forth through every moment, every memory I had with them, and wondering what I could have done to make it different, to change the outcome, to make them want to stay instead of leaving with little to no explanation.
From the time I was fourteen years old, sobbing out cries for the end of my first love, 'til now at twenty-four years old, I have seen one common thread to all of my failed relationships:
Me.
I was the reason.
I was the problem.
The common denominator in every failed and ended relationship I experienced and lived through had the glaring reality that I was the scourge on that relationship, and that's why it ended.
Granted, there were relationships I put an end to, where I initiated the break up. In both cases, there was a major lack of commitment, so much so that I knew in my heart of hearts that I would regret staying with either of them and that the only thing to do (as horrendous as it is), was to end the relationship.
But guess what the issue was there?
Me.
There wasn't lack of commitment for no reason: it was me.
At least as far my warped and self-depracating vision could see.
Now, I will admit outright that I am aware of my own issues with perceiving myself, especially in regards to myself in the context of romantic relationships. When you've grown up your whole life telling yourself, whether consciously or not, that you are wretched and will never be lovable, circumstances as the ones I've described above only solidify that warped vision.
Am I working on this?
Yes, I am. Slowly but surely, with major help and grace from the Lord, I am working on letting go of those pre-conceived notions of myself.
But this doesn't change the fact that I've had several major relationships come to an end with seemingly no reason.
I'm not delusional (at least, I hope not): I know that not everything in those circumstances was about me. I really and truly know that. But having so many relationships with such great potential crash and burn so violently has left me shell-shocked and wounded to the point that I wonder how on Earth I could possibly fall in love again, could possibly put myself out there in such a way again.
And here we come to the present day, and the present quotation I started this post with.
In venting such pain, such frustration and woundedness, such utter longing, this answer is given to me:
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Let me paint you another facet of my background, and perhaps my anger at the above statement will make a bit more sense.
When I was sixteen, I had a very powerful conversion experience that not only propelled me back into my Catholic Christian faith, but also to the belief (although well-intentioned, not accurate to myself as a person) that I was called to religious life, to wear a veil and be consecrated as a nun and live in a cloistered convent.
Many who know me and learn this about me freak out. Yes, I discerned religious life, and yes, I discerned going into a cloistered convent. (For those of you who don't know, cloistered simply means the nuns in such an order 'cloister' themselves away from the world in a community that is open to interaction with the outside world, but only through a grate the nuns can communicate through. This gives them greater depth of prayer and better focus on their vocation to love and pray to God.)
There are many legitimate desires in my heart that make my discerning religious life make sense: I was (and still am) MADLY in love with God; I long to do good and to sow the seeds of love in the world, whether actively through mission work or spiritually through prayer and such intercession. I longed for the peace and unity of such a community, and the love and understanding that would come from such a family of fellow lovers of Christ.
The Lord fostered my love for Him, my longing to aid Him in His mission and call to help others, but whenever I would try to forage my own path towards a convent, towards an order of any kind, major roadblocks would be placed in the way.
I discerned religious life VERY seriously for a period of about six years (from the latter years of my high school career into the beginning years of college career) until the 2x4's God used over the back of my head, and the nets over my heart finally clicked in my thick head.
I didn't really get the hint until about two years ago.
Yes, I have always wanted to get married. No, not because I had been raised that I was "incomplete" or "missing something" or any such hogwash.
I wanted to get married because of the joy, the love, the adventure in such a life.
I wanted to have such a companion, such a love, such a friend, that would last me all the days of my life.
I wanted to share children in such a life, carry them within me, bring them into the world and share the joyous life with that life of the next generation.
I use the past tense in the above statements, but all of these hopes and desires I have fostered in my heart since I was a small child have only grown stronger as these years have passed me by.
No, I am not ignorant of how difficult such a life is, especially in the world as we know it today.
No, I am not ignorant of the suffering such a life involves.
Why is that always the first objection that comes to peoples' lips?
"Well, you know, it's difficult."
Oh, really?
And single life isn't?
Are you really going to tell me I would be better off not sharing my life, its joys, pains, laughter, tears, every beating heart, every broken cross, every single possible facet of this piercingly beautiful existence we call life, with another? Are you really telling me that I would be better off alone?
Are you going to tell me I won't suffer such pains if I never commit my heart to someone's else's heart?
No, there is nothing wrong with single life. I actually seriously discerned that after I stopped discerning religious life.
No, there is nothing wrong with religious life. A more beautiful life in this world I can hardly picture, and my heart still holds a very dear love for such a life.
So what is so wrong with marriage that we have this barrage of questions against it?
I'm not about to run off and get hitched in Vegas.
I'm not going to get myself knocked up to get a husband.
I'm not going to advertise myself as a mail-order bride.
So why is stating my desire so scandalous?
My desire to marry the man whom I hope I will first call my best friend is as admirable, as glorious, as joyously difficult and agonizingly beautiful as the two other vocations I have named here.
It is not fair to those truly discerning this vocation to be put down.
What is so wrong with desiring this?
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Bullshit.
You might as well tell me not to breathe.
You know, when I was discerning religious life, deep in prayer, I would encounter that unbegotten, tantalizing, revitalizing breath of air of the Holy Spirit that rained down on me like dew drops of fire, and a desire the like of which I have never known before or since gripped me to the point of tears. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. All I wanted was total and complete union with Him...Why was He making me wait?
"Please....please take me home. I want to go home."
To which the Lord would reply,
"Not yet."
Oh, what are the objections now?
Yes, I have experienced that consuming, echoing, awakening, aching desire for the Lord and His Kingdom, His Life, His Love to pulsate through me like water through dry land.
But guess what has never changed?
My desire for married life.
Believe it or not, my desire for married life only GREW STRONGER the closer the Lord drew me to Him.
Gee, isn't that something?
Now, let me make something else clear: I have been terrified of married life. For years. As long as I could remember.
But I still want it.
I still desire it. Long for it like my lungs long for breath.
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Why would God give you something you didn't want anymore?
Now, like any good parent, God the Father will give us those things that we may not want, in the sense of an appetite, but that which, if we want a life with Him, a good (but hard) life, we must accept and want, in the sense of a patient wanting medicine.
But with desires like this...why on Earth would He give you a desire and then only decide to fulfill it once you stopped wanting it?
Does that make any sense at all?
The entirety of the Christian life begins with a choice: choosing God over yourself. Saying yes to Him, letting Him into yourself, is like choosing to grab the life raft over the sinking wreckage of the ship you just jumped from.
But that doesn't mean He forces you to climb into the life raft.
You can choose to drown.
Once such a choice is made, whether consciously or not, the choice doesn't disappear. It still remains.
Every day, you have the choice to accept the Lord in your life, in whatever way He chooses to manifest Himself.
Take it one step further. Looking into such a life, whether single, religious, or married, the choice becomes a little bit more complicated. But the choice still remains.
Now, add the velvet lining called desire to this decision.
We each have a propensity to want one of the three more than the other two. Now, that is not to say there aren't people who are convinced they want one (i.e. marriage) when they feel called to another (i.e. religious life). I have met so many people, both priests and religious, who stated they felt a pull towards that life, and even though they had to let go of that desire for marriage, they never regretted it. (This is not meant to be all-inclusive. I know there are exceptions to all of these.)
For me, it is the other way around. I desired (and to a degree, still do) religious life so much, giving little to no thought in the past ten years of my life to either of the alternatives, but especially married life.
It took me a LONG time to let go of that desire and to let myself realize what I had truly wanted all along.
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Right. So I finally make the decision, am shown the freedom I've always had to make such a choice, to desire married life, but as soon as I do, I have to let go of that desire?
Seriously?
Surrender to God is one thing. Letting go of it, not wanting it anymore, is another.
Perhaps the stigma attached to such a desire is because of the horrid state of marriage in our country. What defense can we have, considering we have a divorce rate of 50% and climbing.
No, I am not going to play it safe and not desire what I was created to desire. What I desire is something beautiful, terrific, awe-inspiring, terrifying, and insane. Why on earth would I give it up?
Look, those of us truly desiring married life, and discerning our way through it, aren't asking for much: respect, dignity, support. Not a pity party, but an honest-to-goodness support of family and friends who understand that this period of waiting is hard. That isn't too much to ask for, is it?
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Let me fix this with a few minor alterations:
"As soon as you decide you want it, give it to God. When the time is right, it'll happen."
There. Much better.
I cannot tell you how many times I've been given this "consolation".
You may be wondering, what is this about? Isn't that a bit cryptic?
Well, in this case specifically, this is in regards to being single...and wanting that state in life to end. In the best way, of course--that being in a relationship which (goodness willing) would lead to marriage.
And the above quote is what I have been told, even rather recently, as a condolence from an acquaintance who is no longer experiencing that state of constricting singularity, and will be married soon.
Why is it that as soon as people who understood the longing and pain in your heart when they themselves were single, after the start of a relationship in their own lives, have no idea how to relate to you? And, surprisingly, have no idea how to understand the pain of your own longing, the longing they themselves just had? Why is that bridge of thought so difficult to take a leap back and forth from?
Now, that is not to say that no one who goes from being single to in a relationship cannot empathize, or at least relate, but let's face it--the opposite happens more often than not.
So, dare I do so, I'm going to be rather blunt and vulnerable about my own life and experience in this post, which I can only hope will lead me to a better understanding of myself and the state of life I am currently in (and admittedly, am quite unhappy with). Come along for the ride, if you'd like. It will be interesting, to say the least.
Yes, I am single.
Have I always been that way?
No.
I'm sure you picked up on that from the obvious lacing of bitterness and venom in the previous statements (I'd pretend to apologize for that, but I don't feel like being editorial today).
I have been through many long nights (too many to count), tears soaking my pillow, sobbing out questions that were (and still are) ultimately unanswered, going back and forth through every moment, every memory I had with them, and wondering what I could have done to make it different, to change the outcome, to make them want to stay instead of leaving with little to no explanation.
From the time I was fourteen years old, sobbing out cries for the end of my first love, 'til now at twenty-four years old, I have seen one common thread to all of my failed relationships:
Me.
I was the reason.
I was the problem.
The common denominator in every failed and ended relationship I experienced and lived through had the glaring reality that I was the scourge on that relationship, and that's why it ended.
Granted, there were relationships I put an end to, where I initiated the break up. In both cases, there was a major lack of commitment, so much so that I knew in my heart of hearts that I would regret staying with either of them and that the only thing to do (as horrendous as it is), was to end the relationship.
But guess what the issue was there?
Me.
There wasn't lack of commitment for no reason: it was me.
At least as far my warped and self-depracating vision could see.
Now, I will admit outright that I am aware of my own issues with perceiving myself, especially in regards to myself in the context of romantic relationships. When you've grown up your whole life telling yourself, whether consciously or not, that you are wretched and will never be lovable, circumstances as the ones I've described above only solidify that warped vision.
Am I working on this?
Yes, I am. Slowly but surely, with major help and grace from the Lord, I am working on letting go of those pre-conceived notions of myself.
But this doesn't change the fact that I've had several major relationships come to an end with seemingly no reason.
I'm not delusional (at least, I hope not): I know that not everything in those circumstances was about me. I really and truly know that. But having so many relationships with such great potential crash and burn so violently has left me shell-shocked and wounded to the point that I wonder how on Earth I could possibly fall in love again, could possibly put myself out there in such a way again.
And here we come to the present day, and the present quotation I started this post with.
In venting such pain, such frustration and woundedness, such utter longing, this answer is given to me:
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Let me paint you another facet of my background, and perhaps my anger at the above statement will make a bit more sense.
When I was sixteen, I had a very powerful conversion experience that not only propelled me back into my Catholic Christian faith, but also to the belief (although well-intentioned, not accurate to myself as a person) that I was called to religious life, to wear a veil and be consecrated as a nun and live in a cloistered convent.
Many who know me and learn this about me freak out. Yes, I discerned religious life, and yes, I discerned going into a cloistered convent. (For those of you who don't know, cloistered simply means the nuns in such an order 'cloister' themselves away from the world in a community that is open to interaction with the outside world, but only through a grate the nuns can communicate through. This gives them greater depth of prayer and better focus on their vocation to love and pray to God.)
There are many legitimate desires in my heart that make my discerning religious life make sense: I was (and still am) MADLY in love with God; I long to do good and to sow the seeds of love in the world, whether actively through mission work or spiritually through prayer and such intercession. I longed for the peace and unity of such a community, and the love and understanding that would come from such a family of fellow lovers of Christ.
The Lord fostered my love for Him, my longing to aid Him in His mission and call to help others, but whenever I would try to forage my own path towards a convent, towards an order of any kind, major roadblocks would be placed in the way.
I discerned religious life VERY seriously for a period of about six years (from the latter years of my high school career into the beginning years of college career) until the 2x4's God used over the back of my head, and the nets over my heart finally clicked in my thick head.
I didn't really get the hint until about two years ago.
Yes, I have always wanted to get married. No, not because I had been raised that I was "incomplete" or "missing something" or any such hogwash.
I wanted to get married because of the joy, the love, the adventure in such a life.
I wanted to have such a companion, such a love, such a friend, that would last me all the days of my life.
I wanted to share children in such a life, carry them within me, bring them into the world and share the joyous life with that life of the next generation.
I use the past tense in the above statements, but all of these hopes and desires I have fostered in my heart since I was a small child have only grown stronger as these years have passed me by.
No, I am not ignorant of how difficult such a life is, especially in the world as we know it today.
No, I am not ignorant of the suffering such a life involves.
Why is that always the first objection that comes to peoples' lips?
"Well, you know, it's difficult."
Oh, really?
And single life isn't?
Are you really going to tell me I would be better off not sharing my life, its joys, pains, laughter, tears, every beating heart, every broken cross, every single possible facet of this piercingly beautiful existence we call life, with another? Are you really telling me that I would be better off alone?
Are you going to tell me I won't suffer such pains if I never commit my heart to someone's else's heart?
No, there is nothing wrong with single life. I actually seriously discerned that after I stopped discerning religious life.
No, there is nothing wrong with religious life. A more beautiful life in this world I can hardly picture, and my heart still holds a very dear love for such a life.
So what is so wrong with marriage that we have this barrage of questions against it?
I'm not about to run off and get hitched in Vegas.
I'm not going to get myself knocked up to get a husband.
I'm not going to advertise myself as a mail-order bride.
So why is stating my desire so scandalous?
My desire to marry the man whom I hope I will first call my best friend is as admirable, as glorious, as joyously difficult and agonizingly beautiful as the two other vocations I have named here.
It is not fair to those truly discerning this vocation to be put down.
What is so wrong with desiring this?
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Bullshit.
You might as well tell me not to breathe.
You know, when I was discerning religious life, deep in prayer, I would encounter that unbegotten, tantalizing, revitalizing breath of air of the Holy Spirit that rained down on me like dew drops of fire, and a desire the like of which I have never known before or since gripped me to the point of tears. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. All I wanted was total and complete union with Him...Why was He making me wait?
"Please....please take me home. I want to go home."
To which the Lord would reply,
"Not yet."
Oh, what are the objections now?
Yes, I have experienced that consuming, echoing, awakening, aching desire for the Lord and His Kingdom, His Life, His Love to pulsate through me like water through dry land.
But guess what has never changed?
My desire for married life.
Believe it or not, my desire for married life only GREW STRONGER the closer the Lord drew me to Him.
Gee, isn't that something?
Now, let me make something else clear: I have been terrified of married life. For years. As long as I could remember.
But I still want it.
I still desire it. Long for it like my lungs long for breath.
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Why would God give you something you didn't want anymore?
Now, like any good parent, God the Father will give us those things that we may not want, in the sense of an appetite, but that which, if we want a life with Him, a good (but hard) life, we must accept and want, in the sense of a patient wanting medicine.
But with desires like this...why on Earth would He give you a desire and then only decide to fulfill it once you stopped wanting it?
Does that make any sense at all?
The entirety of the Christian life begins with a choice: choosing God over yourself. Saying yes to Him, letting Him into yourself, is like choosing to grab the life raft over the sinking wreckage of the ship you just jumped from.
But that doesn't mean He forces you to climb into the life raft.
You can choose to drown.
Once such a choice is made, whether consciously or not, the choice doesn't disappear. It still remains.
Every day, you have the choice to accept the Lord in your life, in whatever way He chooses to manifest Himself.
Take it one step further. Looking into such a life, whether single, religious, or married, the choice becomes a little bit more complicated. But the choice still remains.
Now, add the velvet lining called desire to this decision.
We each have a propensity to want one of the three more than the other two. Now, that is not to say there aren't people who are convinced they want one (i.e. marriage) when they feel called to another (i.e. religious life). I have met so many people, both priests and religious, who stated they felt a pull towards that life, and even though they had to let go of that desire for marriage, they never regretted it. (This is not meant to be all-inclusive. I know there are exceptions to all of these.)
For me, it is the other way around. I desired (and to a degree, still do) religious life so much, giving little to no thought in the past ten years of my life to either of the alternatives, but especially married life.
It took me a LONG time to let go of that desire and to let myself realize what I had truly wanted all along.
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Right. So I finally make the decision, am shown the freedom I've always had to make such a choice, to desire married life, but as soon as I do, I have to let go of that desire?
Seriously?
Surrender to God is one thing. Letting go of it, not wanting it anymore, is another.
Perhaps the stigma attached to such a desire is because of the horrid state of marriage in our country. What defense can we have, considering we have a divorce rate of 50% and climbing.
No, I am not going to play it safe and not desire what I was created to desire. What I desire is something beautiful, terrific, awe-inspiring, terrifying, and insane. Why on earth would I give it up?
Look, those of us truly desiring married life, and discerning our way through it, aren't asking for much: respect, dignity, support. Not a pity party, but an honest-to-goodness support of family and friends who understand that this period of waiting is hard. That isn't too much to ask for, is it?
"As soon as you don't want it anymore, that's when it'll happen."
Let me fix this with a few minor alterations:
"As soon as you decide you want it, give it to God. When the time is right, it'll happen."
There. Much better.
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