Seeing Both Sides

Last week, I celebrated six months in a committed, loving relationship. For the most part, it has been everything I had hoped for and dreamed of for longer than I can remember. Though not without its challenging moments as we figure out life together, I feel lucky to have found this person. My partner is kind, goofy, funny, loving, disciplined, patient, and countless other qualities I’d written down when capturing what “boxes” my future mate would need to check.

There have been growing pains that resulted in tears, and deep, belly laughs. There have been hard conversations and nights of dreaming together. There have been adventures and memories made, missteps and hurt feelings. Through it all, a small seed of trust has slowly grown as we consistently show up for one another – matching early promises to lasting actions. For the first time that I can remember, I feel happy and healthy and believe the relationship I’m experiencing is sustainable. I feel the most me I’ve ever felt when no longer single.

I can see a future with this person, and it brings a peace I’ve never experienced when connecting my life to someone else’s.

But there’s something I wasn’t anticipating. Something that surprised me in the best way, though to say it out loud feels like a deep contradiction to what I had closely held to be the truth.

I am happy now, but I was really, truly happy before too.

My relationship did not save me. It turns out, I didn’t need to be saved.

My relationship did not bring only happiness where there had been endless sadness – I had countless happy days.

My relationship did not bring a love I was lacking; for I had learned painstakingly through the years to love myself truly and deeply.

My relationship did not bring things to my attention about myself I hadn’t understood or known prior – I had spent years alone which allowed me to learn myself - my flaws, my motivations, and my heart. I knew what brought me joy and made me feel safe, and what brought out my ugliness and insecurities.

He has done his own work through the years, and together, our imperfections align in a beautiful, natural way. He is not my whole world, nor am I his – he isn’t my everything, and he didn’t have me at hello. He is an addition to my life without consuming it. Where I had total freedom before, I now have a partner. As he often reminds me, “Faster alone, but further together” and with him, I am happy to make this compromise.

I look back at the tears and hurt that consumed much of my 20s and 30s. I wish even more now than ever that the world valued self-love as much as it applauds romantic love. In my experience, both are truly beautiful, but self-love remains an unsung hero.

It takes a certain strength to show up authentically in a relationship, but there are examples and encouragement all around being offered without being asked. From songs to movies, college roommates and my own parents, mentors and co-workers, there’s rarely a shortage of advice for how to grow and thrive and succeed as a pair.

But where the world to often falls silent is how to thrive alone – and ironically for me, the ability to feel complete without a partner was a critical factor to allowing me to thrive with one.

I often wondered what would become of my journey with Minus A Plus One should I ever meet someone who fit me and my complexities. Someone who could understand my mind and my heart; the scars I carry and the triggers I work to overcome. Who could love my energy and endure my messiness.

If I’m honest, these past six months have only reignited my passion for reminding the world that people are enough just as they are, regardless of their relationship status. We still have work to do on loving and celebrating those who aren’t falling in love, getting married, having gender reveal parties and baby showers. We can be better about our enthusiasm for those pairing up and the sympathy we extend to those who haven’t.

My life is filled with the very things it was before – days that are hard, and days when I shine. Moments my heart is overjoyed and others that are almost too heavy to bear. There is someone alongside me for the good and the bad, but it is not their responsibility to bring me happiness – that is still up to me.

I am equal parts hopeful and excited when I think about the next six months and what is to come. But at times, I wish I could go back and whisper to my single self and say, “the future is beautiful, but so is everything you have right now. Enjoy what is in front of you in this very moment. He’s wonderful, but so were you all along. You were always enough.”

Life was beautiful in both versions of my relationship status - I just let the world tell me one wasn’t.