Being single is synonymous with a state of lacking.

Dating is the process of escaping said emptiness.

And marriage or an exclusive lifelong partner is the gold standard.

What bothers me is there isn’t a tame opposition to a committed relationship. If you don’t believe in the “one and only” lifestyle, then you have the option of being:

• Asexual

• A sex-crazed polygamist

• A man-hating/woman-hating pessimist

…instead of someone who simply doesn’t believe in the finality of a single love, lasting (and satisfying) forever. It just feels like there’s no checkbox for normal people who don’t subscribe to monogamy.

It’s hard separate the actual practice of monogamy from its positive connotation in society, so here’s a hypothetical scenario discussing the same arguments about relationships, but with a lighter topic: food. The scene is me and a friend. Let’s call him Bob. It’s a chill Sunday and we’re at the pond.

Me: I don’t think I could eat one kind of food for the rest of my life.

Bob: Oh, don’t be dramatic, Connie! You’ll find your dish.

Me: I don’t think it’s a negative thing. I’m saying that is not something I could see myself doing. I don’t know if I’d enjoy that.

Bob: You don’t think you’ll feel hungry when you’re older?

Me: I’m not giving up eating all together, it would just be a variety of foods.

Bob: It’s fun to try everything when you’re young, but you’ll grow out of it.

Me: Will I? My taste may change, but I can’t imagine being happy eating the same thing over and over again for the rest of my life.

Bob: Maybe you just haven’t eaten the right food. Once you do, you’ll want to eat it forever.

Me: I don’t know. I don’t apply that level of permanency to literally any other aspect of my life, so it’s just kinda strange that this would be the exception. What if I have salty or sweet or sour cravings? I don’t think there’s any one food that can satisfy all those moods.

Bob: Well, you have to be realistic. Pick a food that satisfies your most important cravings. Like pickles can cover the salty/sweet. Actually, pickles can cover the sour, too. Just pick pickles. They’re great.

Me: *RBF, while throwing breadcrumbs at the ducks*

Bob: You’re not suppose to feed them.

Me: Let them eat cake, she said.

Bob: *rolls eyes* What’s your favorite flavor?

Me: I guess sweet, but I can’t eat sweet stuff forever.

Bob: You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.

Me: But, I can. Plus sushi, pasta, pizza, so on.

Bob: Nothing’s perfect. You just have to figure out your non-negotiables. Just look at Joe–he values health so it’s salads everyday.

Me: Um, Joe eats burgers.

Bob: What?

Me: Yeah, we grabbed bacon cheeseburgers last week.

Bob: He and Sarah have been dieting for 2 years.

Me: Apparently not.

Bob: He loves salads.

Me: I don’t doubt that. At the end of the day, Joe is a salad guy. But he also likes burgers.

Bob: That glutton.

Me: He’s not a glutton. A liar? Yes. A glutton? No. And those cheeseburgers were the shit, thanks for asking.

Bob: Why do you think he lies about it?

Me: There’s stability in a diet. I’m sure there are fresh days along with wilted ones–either way, there’s a salad waiting for him. I mean, I’m not excusing his behavior. If you’re going to commit to a diet, stick to it. His parents are health nuts so I can see how there’s pressure to keep up appearances. And all his friends are in that stage of life where they’re dieting, so it’s natural for him to follow suit. Even if he’s not passionate about salads anymore. Even if he’s still eating burgers.

Bob: Shit.

Me: Yeah, it’s fucked up. It’s so common though–the perception of your food preferences overriding your honest cravings. You know Carrie? She hates being a vegetarian.

Bob: You don’t say?

Me: Yeah, but it’s the “wholesome” thing to do so it’s all you ever see on social media if you don’t know her well. Sometimes, it feels like she spends more time talking about loving tofu than actually loving it.

Bob: Sometimes it’s a learned love. Not an immediate inclination, but something that grows on you. Especially if it’s good for you.

Me: Beth was vegetarian before she met you, right?

Bob: Yeah, we dieted for about a year until we both committed to spaghetti and meatballs.

Me: What do you think changed for her?

Bob: I don’t know. What’s crazy is I never asked that of her–she said it just felt right. And we’ve been noodleheads ever since.

Me: That’s cool. Seems like you’ve got a good thing going. See, the foodie pool wouldn’t be so screwed up if people were like you and Beth. If people were just honest with themselves. But you’ve got these frauds like Joe and Carrie contaminating the waters.

Bob: But sometimes the Joes and Carries start out like me and Beth. It’s not as black and white as you make it out to be, Connie. The loyal ones vs. the liars. It’s messy and hard. Beth and I have almost slipped up.

Me: So why even do it? Why not just eat the foods you both want and be happy.

Bob: You think I don’t miss brownies? Of course, I do! But I care more about the connection I have with Beth from our shared meals. That makes me happy. It’s something we’re going through together that nobody else can understand.

Me: Hmm…

Bob: Think of it this way: when you go out to eat, you never know what you’re going to get. They may run out of the dish you order, they can overcook the food, they may not even have seating for you! I know what I like. There’s no reason for me to scrounge Yelp when I have a homecooked meal of my favorite dish waiting at home.

Me: That makes sense.

Bob: It can.

Me: I think that’s where we differ. I love having options and being able to satisfy my every impulse without thinking of anyone else, even if it comes with the risk of disappointment. I can’t sacrifice my freedom to eat what I want. And it’s not fair for someone to think I will.

Bob: You’re the only person I know that can make an all-cookie diet sound like a highway robbery. Nobody’s trying to take anything from you. If it’s right, you’ll want it for yourself.

Me: I suppose.

Bob: You’re over-thinking things. Eating is a part of life. People handle it a bunch of different ways. Some ways more common than others. At the end of the day, you choose how you want to live. And that’s all I got today. All out of wisdom.

Me: No dessert course?

Bob: Nah. Wanna catch the 7pm show later?

Me: Sorry, I’ve got dinner plans.

Bob: …burgers with a certain someone?

Me: I’ll order a veggie burger if that makes you feel better.

Bob: Just stop feeding the birds and we’ll call it good.