The Woes of a Hopeless Romantic

Why Singledom is Harder for Us Romantics

Photo by Tirza van Dijk on Unsplash

Dear Reader,

It’s a dark world. Things were bad enough when there was an active genocide happening. Now, more bombs are being dropped on innocent civilians and the monstrosity that is the White House is adding to the carnage. I won’t comment further on the madness that is this current reality. You get enough of that from the news and in your social media feeds. I just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge that these times are dark and that we should expect an even darker future.

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I’m here to provide you with a distraction. Let me shift your attention away from the despair of current events to the current sadness that is your single lives. 😆 I just got back from vacationing in London. I had lived there back in 2016 during my final semester in law school, so it felt like coming home. Returning to the same spots I used to inhabit was fun. During this trip, I did a whole lot and nothing at the same time. You know how it is traveling in Europe— you run around to see famous sites, shop, and dine at Instagram-worthy restaurants. Unlike my last trip to Mexico City where there was so much to discover, there weren’t many surprises that I encountered. Though I was surprised that one thing was missing from my conversations with my friends: love. Although the three of us were single, no one brought up the topic of dating (or not dating), so it stayed buried.

Although it never crossed our lips, as a hopeless romantic, I never really stop thinking about love. Other hopeless romantics will know what I’m talking about.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

When you’re single, and a hopeless romantic, you go on every vacation thinking you’re going to meet your person on a flight or in a random restaurant. As a hopeless romantic, we believe all public encounters are opportunities to find love. We scan every room for a potential, we day dream about meeting “the one” in the grocery store, and because of that, we always have to look just a little bit more put together than our married counterparts. Our minds glitz across decades of rom-coms, Jane Austen novels, and love ballads, as proof that love is just waiting around the next corner.

I remember when I was married, I felt a little lighter preparing for an event. I could wear less makeup or more comfortable shoes because I didn’t need to dress for the male gaze. I just needed to dress for myself (and on occasion my ex). But as a single, hopeless romantic gal I never feel truly relaxed. I’m always on guard. Always on the look out. It’s burdensome. It’s kind of like being the kid with the active imagination. It’s cool because you’re really good at playing make-believe on the playground at recess, but you’re frightened to death when your head hits the pillow at night– your mind thinks all the shadows are out to get you.

And if you’re actually dating, your mind is running five miles ahead thinking about the future. You’re literally dreaming up your wedding with the person you’ve just started texting. You future trip not because you're irresponsible or obsessed, but because you’re optimistic. You are overflowing with positive energy because you have full conviction that your person if out there and that even though the potential in front of you keeps mispronouncing your name and doesn’t text you back in a timely manner, maybe they’ll surprise you. Maybe they’ll turn things around.

Photo by Jackie Tan on Unsplash

Exhausting isn’t it? Living constantly in this state of what-if’s and could-be’s? There were so many moments in my twenties when I just kept thinking “gosh, I can’t wait to figure out who I’ll marry,” just so I wouldn’t be walking around with that question mark on my mind. I thought once the mystery was solved, everything else would fall into place.

But with every year I waited to meet prince charming, I had to make the hard decisions– where I would take the bar exam, where I would start practicing law, would I forgo roommates to get my own studio, how to organize my investments— all by myself. These are all things that I had wished I could decide with a partner, but instead had to figure out on my own.

Fast forward to now, when I’m one year out from my divorce, and am navigating big questions again about the future. Once again, I’ve had to rely on me, myself, and I to make the right decisions. The difference now, is that I’m more confident. I believe that I can and will make the right decisions, even if I’m nervous to do so, and even if I would rather not make them alone. Which brings me back to London.

During my trip, there were a few moments when I deviated from the group to do my own exploring. One night I even ate dinner on my own since everyone was full from lunch. I sat in this halal Malaysian restaurant in Soho and enjoyed my mocktail with my journal beside me and people-watched. I secretly hoped (and prayed) I would meet another solo traveler and he’d ask for my IG and then we’d carry on a transatlantic relationship. But that didn’t happen.

I ended up wandering the streets listening to street musicians and enjoying immersive open-air art exhibits, while eating a croissant cinnamon roll on my own. Even though I would have loved to enjoy those moments with another human, I appreciate the fact that I even had those moments to cherish at all. I was brave enough to do my own thing and the reward for that was good food and good memories.

I don’t think there’s an anecdote to being a hopeless romantic. Not even heartbreak can cure us of the mixture of toxic positivity and delulu that we carry around. And that’s okay. Because we don’t need to be cured. Being a hopeless romantic can be a pain sometimes, but it’s not a disease, it’s a blessing. It means we carry around this beautiful bubble of hope that will someday inshaAllah lead to real love. What could be better than that?

Love,

Nailah