QuirkyAlone

I have finally figured out what I am. I am a quirkyalone.

Nope...that's not a typo...let me help you out with the official definition.

Quirkyalone: n. adj. a person who enjoys being single (but is not opposed to being in a relationship) and prefers being single to dating for the sake of dating. It’s a mindset. Quirkyalone is not anti-love. It is pro-love. It is not anti-dating. It is anti-compulsory dating. 

The idea of quirkyalone was invented by a woman named Sasha Cagen. She has written a book and has a website. The Quirkyalone movement began with a simple essay. 


Now, to many of my readers this post may seem like it came out of the clear-blue sky. I'm not one to talk much about my love life...or rather the lack there-of...at least not on the World Wide Web. However, as my 25th birthday rapidly approaches, I have become increasingly aware that well...I'm alone. A few of my closest friends have been among the unfortunate set of people whose phones have been plaugued with "woe-is me, I'm alone" text messages over the last week. 

Now just to clarify...I'm usually pretty content with my single-hood. But...well...we all have our moments...or weeks. Ha. If there's anything that I hate, it's that feeling of discontentment with things as the are, yet an inability to change things. I have been told on numerous occassions, "Well, why don't you get out there just to date around." Um...because...that's a waste of my time? Duh. What's the point in dating just for the sake of dating? I don't like the idea. And sometimes...as much I hate going home after an evening out with friends to an empty apartment...I would prefer that to dating someone that I merely tolerate just because I don't want to be alone. 


It's a weird existence. A Catch-22 of sorts. The inevitable lonlieness that is a natural part of being single...and the incredible freedom of not settling either.


I would like to be in a relationship. In fact, I love being in relationships...but is it too much to want fireworks? Or at least a little bit of lightning? Ha. Nope. I think not and guess what? I won't settle for less. 


That being said, I officially dub myself a quirkyalone. 


And if Mr. Right comes along sometime soon...no one will be more surprised than me!

Below I've added the excerpt of Sasha Cagen's original essay. Pay attention...it could be you!

People Like Us: The Quirkyalones
by Sasha Cagen

I am, perhaps, what you might call deeply single. Almost never ever in a relationship. Until recently, I wondered whether there might be something weird about me. But then lonely romantics began to grace the covers of TV Guide and Mademoiselle. From Ally McBeal to Sex in the City, a spotlight came to shine on the forever single. If these shows had touched such a nerve in our culture, I began to think, perhaps I was not so alone after all.

The morning after New Year’s Eve (another kissless one, of course), a certain jumble of syllables came to me. When I told my friends about my idea, their faces lit up with instant recognition: the quirkyalone.

If Jung was right, that people are different in fundamental ways that drive them from within, then the quirkyalone is simply to be added to the pantheon of personality types assembled over the 20th century. Only now, when the idea of marrying at age 20 has become thoroughly passé, are we quirkyalones emerging in greater numbers.

We are the puzzle pieces who seldom fit with other puzzle pieces. Romantics, idealists, eccentrics, we inhabit singledom as our natural resting state. In a world where proms and marriage define the social order, we are, by force of our personalities and inner strength, rebels.

For the quirkyalone, there is no patience for dating just for the sake of not being alone. We want a miracle. Out of millions, we have to find the one who will understand.

Better to be untethered and open to possibility: living for the exhilaration of meeting someone new, of not knowing what the night will bring. We quirkyalones seek momentous meetings.

By the same token, being alone is understood as a wellspring of feeling and experience. There is a bittersweet fondness for silence. 

Sometimes, though, we wonder whether we have painted ourselves into a corner. Standards that started out high only become higher once you realize the contours of this existence. When we do find a match, we verge on obsessive—or we resist.

And so, a community of like-minded souls is essential.

Since fellow quirkyalones are not abundant (we are probably less than 5 percent of the population), I recommend reading the patron saint of solitude: German poet Rainer Maria Rilke. Even 100 years after its publication, Letters to a Young Poet still feels like it was written for us: “You should not let yourself be confused in your solitude by the fact that there is something in you that wants to break out of it,” Rilke writes. “People have (with the help of conventions) oriented all their solutions toward the easy and toward the easiest side of easy, but it is clear that we must hold to that which is difficult.”

Rilke is right. Being quirkyalone can be difficult. Everyone else is part of a couple! Still, there are advantages. No one can take our lives away by breaking up with us. Instead of sacrificing our social constellation for the one all-consuming individual, we seek empathy from friends. We have significant others.

And so, when my friend asks me whether being quirkyalone is a life sentence, I say, yes, at the core, one is always quirkyalone. But when one quirkyalone finds another, oooh la la. The earth quakes.

—From To-Do List, July 2000, and Utne Reader, September 2000.

What do you think? Could that be you too?

Divine Romance

To all the single ladies(and gentlemen) in the world, Happy Valentines Day...or as I like to call it, Happy Singles Awareness Day. Teehee. 

For many single people, today is a great and often depressing reminder of what they lack in their lives...a significant other. 

Although I can get into a depressive slump pretty easily, Valentine's Day has never sent me into such a slump. When I was younger, my sister and I always looked forward to a card and some chocolates and those nasty little hearts that are more fun to read than to eat. What are those candies made out of anyhow? Flavored chalk? Anyway. My mom and dad always made sure we had something special waiting for us. 

Nowadays, however, I'm pretty much left to my own devices for the day of loooove. Me and my bestie J, usually try to go out to lunch or dinner but this year our schedules are just too busy. So today will be like any other Tuesday for me, trying to finish up some homework before running into work. 

To those of you who may be a little sad, I encourage you to remember all the things that you do have in your life that make it fulfilling. Wouldn't you rather be happy and content alone, than in a relationship or married and miserable? I know I would. 

So let today be a reminder of the blessings you have in your life and of the love that Jesus Christ has for you. What could be better than a divine romance?!

When Mr. Right Comes at the Wrong Time

In case you haven't noticed from the recent posts that are noticeably lacking in substance, I am experiencing writer's block. So, for the next few posts( or until the block abates) I will share with you a few of my favorite articles from other bloggers, writers, etc. I don't agree with everything in the following article...but I do agree with a lot. Enjoy!

This is an article that appeared in the NST (M'sia) on Jan 31, 2005, written by Janice Wong. An excellent write-up on what I truly feel is so true. Hope you all enjoy it too.]

Timing is everything, even in love. And when you are not ready to commit, you could end up regretting it.

Sometimes, timing rather than love decides who we end up being with - or without.

Only some lucky people marry the loves of their lives. The rest marry the most suitable person who comes along when they are ready to settle down.

Even if the love of one's life appears when one is single, one may not be in the right frame of mind to recognise him or her as such.

And then love passes by.

Life is littered with near misses and lost opportunities.

I attended my ex-boyfriend's wedding last month, which triggered many memories.

We met five years ago when I was 23 and he 31. It was love at first sight. He had an established career, was down-to-earth and steadfastly religious. I was then working as an air stewardess and my head was - literally and metaphorically - in the clouds.

Despite our differences, we were soulmates. We had the same quirky sense of humour and shared long, intense overnight conversations.

But human nature is perverse. When someone is excessively nice to us, we start taking things for granted, instead of appreciating them even more.

My ex had everything I could want in a husband - except that I was not looking for one. A boyfriend was all I could cope with then. I loved fast cars, danced wildly at Zouk and took off on shopping holidays at a whim. My life revolved around me, myself and I.

In the six months that we were together, he popped the question several times and talked ad nauseam about having children. Yes, I did often fantasize about a Vera Wang wedding gown, but I was at that stage of my life when I was more interested in Guess than Baby Guess.

And where - dare I admit it? - I still wanted to meet other men.

So I was a 23-year-old with the emotional maturity of a 13-year-old. Responsibility? Wasn't that for adults?

In short, I met Mr Right at the wrong time.

The more he talked about marriage, the more I felt pressured and the more pressured I felt, the more irritable I became. I was too impatient to compromise. Every trivial matter blew up as a big deal. My mood obliterated the good in our relationship and reached a point where I just wanted out.

He was heartbroken; I was sad but relieved. He still called me regularly, beseeching me to change my mind. The calls stopped finally after a year. Now and then, we say 'Hi' via e-mail.

I had a few painful relationships after that. Served me right, as those rude wake-up calls were necessary for me to realise the meaninglessness of my hedonistic high life. I missed the tenderness of my ex and began having second thoughts.

Perhaps I also felt more urgency to find someone marriageable before my biological clock reached zero hour. It dawned on me that I am not a pixie like Peter Pan who can flit around forever. One day, I'd wake up sick and alone when my fair weather friends flit away.

But I was too proud and too unsure of my ex's reaction to call him until last year.

The first thing he told me excitedly was that he had found The One. My heart tumbled to my feet. So, that's Fate.

If only I could turn back time. If only I had met him later. If only... what feeble words.

These days, I am more circumspect. I have come to terms with my loss. There is nothing I can do about timing, but I can do everything about my choices.

Sometimes, when the nights get lonely, I toy with the idea of marrying a platonic friend of mine, who often assures me earnestly that, if the worst comes to the worst, he'd be willing to marry me.

But I always dismiss that. I have already made one mistake. I should not make another by settling for second best merely for the sake of getting hitched - only to regret it soon after.

Hopefully, the best is not over but yet to be