Discontent with singleness

My alma mater’s student newspaper published an “honest round-table discussion” on singleness, particularly as it pertains to Christian folk, and all I can do is roll my eyes so far into my head that they hurt. There were no perspectives from single men, and noticeably missing from the discussion is the viewpoint of single Christian women who really freaking hate being single.

My viewpoint.

Evangelical Christianity presents single persons, especially women, with conflicting teachings:

1. Marriage (the covenantal union of a man and woman before God)–and, by extension, sex–is the greatest physical/material gift humanity can enjoy. It is a gift given by God for the mutual edification and pleasure of men and women. (Yes, edification is the official term.) Men and women should desire to marry (and raise children).
2. Single persons, particularly women, who desire marriage are vaguely and unhelpfully told to “wait on the Lord” and “be content.” They are told that singleness is “a gift” and should be cherished. Desiring marriage and sex is a dirty thing, indicating the young woman does not prioritize God.

Whether purposefully or neglectfully, Christian women like me are plagued by these teachings from a young age, especially growing up in evangelical/Southern Baptist circles. If you feel confused, sad, angry, dirty, or some combination of the above, and not at all encouraged or discipled, then congratulations! You understand how it feels to be a product of evangelicalism’s Purity Cult, as I call it.

It’s such a bizarre thing. I am expected to present myself as this asexual being of “godliness” who wants nothing to do with boys until one day, somehow, I manage to find and marry one, at which point I am expected to be wholly enthusiastic about sex. But in the meantime, if I express a desire to date and marry, it’s because I’m not focused enough on God. Huh?

Look, I believe fully that God holds all things. He makes everything beautiful in its time and gives good gifts to his children. But he also gives us desires and dreams for a reason. To some of us, he gives the unrelenting desire for marriage because that is what we are meant to have. For others, he takes away that desire, because a life of celibacy is what they are meant to have. And I swear, if I hear one more person intone “Be content!” as if they have a single damn clue what it feels like to be hungry for the companionship of a mate while having no dating prospects, I will scream.

Because they keep saying be content with singleness. I am not.

They need to say be content in singleness. I am.

I am content in singleness because I am confident in my identity as a person. I do not rely on any human, friend or romantic partner, to give me meaning. My value and identity come from Christ and from exploring the unique traits and personality he has given me to bring diversity and beauty to his kingdom just by existing.

I am content in singleness because going to a restaurant or movie alone doesn’t scare me; in fact, I quite enjoy the time with my thoughts. I am content in singleness because I enjoy a great deal of flexibility in my schedule and activities.

But singleness as a noun, an object, rather than a descriptor of my romantic life? No. I am not content with that. I am not content with singleness because I know there is more for my life than just me.

I am not content with singleness because I have begged God to rip the desire for a husband out of me, and he has not, because it is a desire he gave me. I do not want a celibate life. I want a life partner, a companion, a mate. I want someone to make a home with so we can open our home to others in the way that a single woman finds it more difficult to do, such as hosting those without a home.

I am not content with singleness because I desire the joy of the marriage relationship–not merely sex, but singing songs in the car, going to church together, sitting on the porch during a rainstorm. I am happy to do those things alone or with friends, but there is something special and desperately desirable about sharing one’s life with a mate.

Genesis tells us that when God made Adam, Adam was lonely. He desired a companion. Having a pet from among the animals didn’t cut it. Having a best friend wasn’t going to cut it. “It is not good for the man to be alone,” said God, and he made Eve. The soul-deep ache for opposite-sex companionship that Adam experienced is exactly the pain that I know so well, too. Adam is recorded as delighting over Eve, exclaiming, “Now at last this is flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone!” He might as well be saying, “Yes! This is what I was looking for! Another person to share my life’s adventures with!”

That’s all I want. As yet, God has not granted the desire he gave me, though not because I sat around on my hands doing nothing. I’ve tried dating apps and websites. I’ve tried getting out and meeting people at church and other social opportunities. So far, nothing. I have screamed at him and begged and sobbed more than I can count. And then I see articles like the one I mentioned earlier that essentially blame me for being single because I guess I don’t trust God enough? “It’ll happen when you stop looking for it!” they all say. “Be content!”

Oh, I can be content in singleness, because I belong to a God who is faithful and good and molds our desires to his when we ask. He sees my grief at having no mate, and he knows the bitter pain of my untethered heart. And even though I don’t know when or where, the good man I’ve prayed for almost daily for ten years has to be out there, or else God would have taken this longing by now if it didn’t come from him.

But do not ask me to be content with singleness, because I desire something else. Not more. Other. Do not shame my desire to marry by suggesting I haven’t trusted God enough. Do not insult my fellow discontent sisters by elevating marriage as something to be desired and then tut-tutting us for wanting it. Don’t break our hearts by insinuating our singleness is our own fault based on assumptions about our spiritual journeys. Do not ask us to sit on our hands and do nothing to meet men or learn how to date well and healthfully.

My current status quo is not my status always. Do not ask me to be content.

Per aspera ad astra,

Steph