Why are more and more women in the world choosing loneliness? Perhaps they hate men? Or maybe they have too high demands? Or maybe there is something wrong with them? Are they not lesbians? Or do they have a fear of intimacy? Or are they from an incomplete family and they have no idea about the family model?
And I ask – why should a free woman look for excuses and explanations at all?
Why is a free woman such an object of intrusive interest with a touch of pity? After all, no one asks a woman whose husband is constantly cheating why she lives with him! Just as they don’t ask the wife of an alcoholic: “Why are you together?”
Being a woman with a man in our society is considered normal. At the same time, neither the quality of a man, nor the quality of relations with him are taken into account. You can be free only if you call yourself lonely and you are unhappy in your loneliness. They will take pity on you and immediately try to attach you.
To be free and happy by itself is nonsense in our society. They don’t believe you. First, out of habit, they try to regret and attach. But when pity bounces off your happiness like a tennis ball, and you refuse to attach yourself, they immediately begin to hate or look for flaws.
In fact, loneliness or pairedness is just a choice of one of the forms of life that each of us makes for himself.
You can’t be both free and married at the same time. And we pay a price for freedom. As for marriage, everyone pays his own.
As you probably guessed, I am a free woman. I’m not looking for anyone. I once searched. I thought that you need to be like everyone else – with a stamp, a ring and a baby in a stroller. I tried, I tried. She removed damage, built astrological forecasts, went to dating sites as if to work. The men showed up. With some of them I built a serious relationship, but everything turned out to be in vain. There was no limit to bewilderment and disappointment – I scolded men who “shredded”, the world, which is unfair, envied women who were “already”, but I still do not. I should have ended up in a clinic of neuroses, if insight had not begun to penetrate into my life.
It happened just in a relationship with one of the potential candidates for husbands. We lived together under the same roof, I carefully tried to do everything that, in my understanding, an almost married woman should do, he also tried, only my life became more and more dull. It seemed that joy and lightness left her, I just exist. Not even me, but someone dancing an endless ritual dance around a sacred pillar. And I stood back and watched.
The truth came gradually, and it frightened me – it is better for me to live free than to live in a couple. But can I challenge society? Will I have the strength to defend my choice, or maybe it’s better to look for more?
Enough. Now I just live: I meet, I rejoice, I fall in love. I write articles, I work, I walk. Of course, sometimes I think about old age, about who will bring me that notorious glass of water. And it would be cunning to say that I do not think about it, I am not afraid of death or senile helplessness. I’m afraid and I think. But I know: if I had the strength to choose the freedom to be myself in life, then they will be enough to meet old age, even if it comes along with Alzheimer’s.