Shame Double Whammy
One of the major shaming aspects of our culture is singlism. Singles are stereotyped as incomplete – there is something seriously wrong with us. We are not good enough – otherwise we’d be coupled. I have uncovered a lot of that in myself. I am calling that internalized singlism: My sense that I am not good enough because I am single. “I am not good enough” is one of the predominant shame messages. It goes to our core. It does not question behavior (say, the choice to stay single). It questions us. I’ve been struggling with this for a bit, somewhat longing for the approval that would come from an intimate relationship that involves sex – and then being disappointed when it turns out that the guys around me are too young, not interested, or otherwise not available. It wasn’t until today that I realized that I am struggling with a double whammy of shame. There is the shame from the internalized singlism. But then there also is the shame that comes from the longing as a singles advocate. I shouldn’t feel this way! After all I am fighting singlism! I should have it all together and be above the culturally approved strategy for meeting our needs for closeness, companionship, and acceptance: A partner! There must be something wrong with me that I still am not immune to that! And what will people think if I admit to it? Well, they will probably think that I am human – and that I, too, am a product of the couple-centric culture we all live in. I, too, sometimes long for the quick-fix of an intimate relationship involving sex – even though I know that this is absolutely not the only strategy for getting my needs met – and not even my preferred strategy! I’d rather spend my time and energy on deepening my network of friends. It’s much more resilient not to put all our eggs in one basket. Yet, there it is: The internalized singlism.
One of the ways we can grow shame resilience is by practicing self-compassion. We can do that by listening to a guided meditation or by simply repeating these sentences, which I am taking from that meditation:
May I be safe.
May I be peaceful.
May I be kind to myself.
May I accept myself as I am and my life as it is.
Doing this meditation (despite my somewhat skeptical stance toward meditation) has helped move me a little bit toward accepting the various strands (or manifestations) of shame in myself. One step toward building shame resilience…
I was thinking about the topic of shame too, and how that can put one at a disadvantage.
If one experiences shame from internalized singlism, then you may be at a disadvantage when engaging in debate with someone about singles if that person does not experience the same sense or level of shame. It’s hardly a fair fight when one side questions its actions, and the other doesn’t.
Granted, it could be that we all experience shame similarly, but I suspect that this isn’t true. The way so many people seem to barge ahead heedlessly with an inadequate argument causes me to suspect that they’re not as susceptible to shame or to self-questioning.
According to Brene Brown, we all experience shame – but some of us are better at covering it up than others and, I would add, what triggers our shame is likely different.
That said, I agree that internalized singlism can make an argument more difficult, especially if I am expected to always be happily single. I am most of the time but, alas, there are times when I feel lonely – someone is liable to jump on that. “Aha!” they might exclaim, “so you admit that you are not happy being single!” And then we’d have to explain that, no, we are happy most of the time – and it quickly becomes complicated and convoluted…
Thank you for posting this. As someone who is newly appreciative of her single status, I sometimes find my thinking slipping back into a desire for a boyfriend/lover/husband. I’m very slowly training myself to remember that what I was looking for is an idealized and unrealistic mate; and what I truly am seeking is friendship and companionship. I find after a night out with friends, I am satisfied and those pangs aren’t there – which leads me to conclude I just want to spend time with people.
Maybe it just takes some spin on your perspective. Sometimes I like to pretend that I’m the only person who is complete – after all, I can stand on my own two feet alone without anybody else. Isn’t that what true wholeness is like?
Very true, Artemis, that we often mistake longings for friendship and companionship for a longing for a partner (and our culture makes sure we do!). And I am finding that I can meet all my needs in ways that don’t follow the cultural script (that includes learning to ask for hugs…).
Part of why I posted this is to say that even I struggle with this sometimes – sometimes, all the awareness in the world of singlism doesn’t prevent me from falling down the beaten path… The important thing I realized, though: We need to stop beating ourselves up over that, too! The singlist messages are all around us – it is no surprise that none of us are immune to it…