“Can everyone please just stop with the babies and the marriages”.
It was probably about 10 years ago that I posted something to the above effect on my newsfeed. It was full of pictures of beautiful babies and happy marriages, so I asked if everyone could please, just stop.
Not much has changed since then. I have quit facebook because I felt like I was drowning in that kind of content, but inevitably it just followed me onto Instagram instead. I’m not yet strong enough to quit that as well.
Back then, I knew without a shadow of doubt that I wasn’t ready for all that. I was barely capable of taking care of myself, let alone anyone else. I hadn’t fulfilled my travel aspirations or career goals and at 27 years of age, that’s okay. You’ve got bloody loads of time and you’re not on anyone’s timeline but your own. No pressure, no rush. Just enjoy life as it comes and see what happens. So you remain confident and sure that one day it’ll all just happen — out of the blue and probably when you least expected it, someone will just rock up and everything will fall into place. Just like in the movies.
“when you know, you just know”
…or so says everyone who’s ever got married and then tried to impart their smug wisdom onto others — of how they “just knew” it was right moment or person with which to “pop the question”.
Like a statement such as “you just know” even makes any sense.
HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY “JUST KNOW”?!
I mean at some point in time, almost all of us will have thought that we’ve known. We’ve all incorrectly convinced ourselves that “this is it”, even if it was that first love when we were sixteen. We couldn’t believe how lucky we were to have found it first time and that it was never going to be better than this. Christ, at 35 years of age I was still thinking “this is finally it!” and that eighth time really is a charm.
Only hindsight teaches us that we didn’t, in fact, know anything.
Anyway, those of us not married, blissfully bumble along convinced that it’ll happen for us one day, just like it did for all our friends. Fate will take care of it all, right? When the time comes, we will “just know” like everyone else.
Shame they don’t “just know” the lottery numbers really.
Then …Boom! You wake up one day and suddenly ten years have passed. Now you’re 37 and time isn’t so much on your side. You reassure yourself that it’s still okay, those time pressures and timelines of what is considered ‘normal’ for a man your age, are only those set by society. You’re better than that and you know that there are no rules to life. After all, you can only play with the hand that you’re dealt.
My Dad became a father again at 59. He doesn’t give a shit and is extremely happy, so what does it matter?
But for some inexplicable reason, it sort of does matter. …and only those people that want kids or marriage or stability and have yet to find it, will truly understand that.
But this is where I become my own worst enemy… and although I kind of knew I was guilty of it, it wasn’t until I saw it in others that I realised just how severe ‘the fear’ in me was… and you know what? I am not alone in this, not at all. So I’m going to explain the fear for you dear reader and I’m pretty confident that on some level, it will resonate with almost everyone.
Picture the scene:
It’s Friday night and four mates that have known each other for years, are on their way to Central London for a few beers. They have agreed to meet just off of Tottenham Court Road at about 7:30pm. The build up in the days before is how it’s been for years, they’re reminiscing on previous nights out, regaling tales of embarrassment and humour. Taking it in turns to remind each other of the stories they’d individually all prefer to forget. It’s shaping up to be a good night and it’s always a laugh when everyone gets together.
These lads have been looking forward to this all week, it’s going to be a big one. They are heading into Soho, it’s a pay weekend, a Friday night and the first time they’ve seen each other for ages.
They’re going to tear it up… just like they used to 15 years ago.
But they don’t.
Because it’s not 15 years ago anymore.
In fact, no sooner has one arrived that he’s already figuring out what time the train back home is. “Sorry lads, won’t be a late one for me.”
“Oh glad you said that, I need to get off too. I’ll go with you when you leave” says another. Suddenly the big night out and the ‘lads lads lads’ of yesteryear, have fallen at the first hurdle. Their first beer has yet to greet their lips and they’re already showing signs of growing up and growing old. What follows is a civilised three course dinner, in a pretentious Thai restaurant and a couple of overpriced cocktails in a “trendy” London basement bar. Not one Jaegerbomb was drunk, not one shot of tequila, shot.
At 11pm, half the group goes home… they’re on the last train back.
“Work commitments”.
On a Friday night.
But you know what?
That’s ok.
In fact, it’s bloody wonderful. ‘Cause we’re not 22 anymore — and the idea of getting in late, sleeping on a mates couch and being hungover for a week (it used to be a few hours, now it’s a few days) doesn’t appeal like it used to.
However, the remaining two lads haven’t learnt this yet. Or if they have, they are refusing to accept it tonight. So they go on, desperate to keep the dream alive, determined that there are more stories of getting drunk in bars surrounded by — and talking to — hot women, just waiting to be made.
This is the first of the fears:
The fear of growing old.
Some come to terms with it earlier than others. It’s not about giving up on life or fun, but it’s about the realignment of what that looks like. One of the two remaining gents realised that night, that the reminiscent memories we share actually paint a better picture than the reality. Like most events in life, we leave out the dull details and only regale the good bits. But that night, in that bar, he realised that actually maybe those days were behind him. Maybe it was the topless barman stood on the bar, spitting fire lit alcohol over everyone, or maybe it was the fact the bar was approximately 100 degrees inside. Maybe it was because the cost of a single measure spirit and mixer was over £8 and that everyone was a lot more pissed than he was. Most likely it was Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas’ was blasting at full volume on November 3rd. Whatever it was, something finally took its toll.
In reality, I think it was just the idea of being single and trying to chat up women again, that got to him most. Having to re-walk that fine line between being friendly and chatty — and what some might now describe as harassment if you’re not careful. Going to all the effort of trying to create small talk and then having to deal with the rejection when they look straight through you, like you don’t exist, if they decide in those 2 minutes that you’re not good looking, funny, or well dressed enough and they’re not interested.
Thats the brutality of the dating scene that we all try to forget.
Yet for some reason, many people need to try and believe they’ve still got it. They need that reaffirmation, that knowledge that if they wanted to pull, they could. So they subject themselves to all this, even though if they’re honest a lot of the enjoyment has officially now ebbed away. Still, I guess it’s better to try and meet someone in person and naturally like this, rather than through some shallow, face judging, swiping based app. Right? (or is it left?).
So gents reminisce about these big nights out from when they were younger, when women “couldn’t get enough of them” and they would go home with a different phone number every night; but in reality it wasn’t ever quite as successful as we like to make out (“the rule of three” if you’ve ever seen the film American Pie). What these gents need to remember is that it’s also all relative. You and the women were younger back then, you were probably a bit more “footloose and fancy free” too, hanging out in student bars where everyone had the same thought process. “I’m only 22, so what have I got to lose?” In short, it was better odds for everybody.
But it’s not like that anymore, nobody aged 35 who is trying to “just know” has time to waste on hopefuls in a bar.
Anyway, we’ve got apps for that now.
No, this is not the fear that gets to me personally, not anymore. My “age” blog will tell you that I don’t fear getting old, but I do have to confess to initially finding myself a little frustrated that the first two lads went home early. It was supposed to be our big night out (yes I confess this a true story and I was one of the two that clung on — like you hadn’t figured that out) but in reality I soon found myself actually quite envious of them. They quit at the right time. They had a good time, they enjoyed catching up and then they made it back before it became forced fun, a forced effort to cling on to this idealistic memory of what once was.
They got home, had a decent whiskey for a lot less than £8 and then slept in their own bed.
For me, the real fear is what happens when you wake up the next day and realise that you’re stuck in the vicious circle of fears that follow:
The fear of being alone.
I think this is the fear that probably affects most of us, if not all of us.
I can already hear all those strong independent men and women giving it all the big ones — claiming that they are fine on their own and they don’t need no one (*snaps fingers in sassy fashion).
Honestly, let’s get real.
I call Bullshit.
You may be fine on your own, but no one wants to be alone.
Granted, some of us are better at being alone than others. Some of us are comfortable on our own, we enjoy our own company and like not having to consider, or worry about anyone else. I don’t dispute that, but sooner or later everyone reaches a point where they would just like someone to give a shit. They want someone to ask about their day and to wake up next to. Someone who will be there no matter what, through thick and thin. Friends are good to a point of course, but friends don’t do the menial stuff. They won’t do the little things in life that really matter. Friends are good at doing the headlines and big events in your life, don’t get me wrong; but there is no substitute for someone who will make you a tea unasked in the morning. Someone who will rub you on the back when you’re poorly, and watch all those crap shows with you, the ones you secretly love. Someone who will forgive you for accidentally ending up “out-out” on a Tuesday night. Someone who will put up with all your emotional baggage. I’m talking about a person that will live with you, love you and be with you unconditionally, warts and all.
Let me be clear, we all have friends that would probably do some of the above, but if a boy or girl came along that rocked their world, they’d be off. They’re a fickle old bunch when they think they “just know”. That’s how it is, thats life. That’s reality and admit it, there’s part of us all that hopes we meet a person like that, a person that rocks our world, so that we can f*ck off too.
Fear of wasting time and getting it wrong.
So you’ve only gone and done it. You’ve found a person that at some point has rocked your world enough for you to consider them a contender for the role of your significant other. You think that maybe, just maybe… “you know”.
Maybe you’ve been together years and the shine has worn off a little. That little giggle you used to find cute, is now the most annoying thing in the world. The relationship has become stale and the honeymoon period has died on its ass. Suddenly you’re at the crossroads and you’re asking “where are we going?”, “is it time for the next step?”, “do we want the same things?”, “what does the future hold for us?” etc etc. Suddenly shit’s got real and you’re facing the cold hard reality of the rest of your life, with just that one person.
You love them, there is no doubt in that. They’re your best pal and you’ve shared so much. They love you even though you know you can be a dick and surely that’s worth something? I mean, who am I to criticise that little giggle? If that’s all that’s wrong with them, I’m not doing bad am I? But oh God it’s so annoying. It literally makes me want to kill them. But then I do that weird thing where I click my fingers and they put up with it. Plus relationships take effort and compromise, you have to work at it. So surely I’m committed to this enough to make the effort? I shouldn’t quit — because this was once something we both believed in and invested in… and so the struggle goes on.
I’m going to let Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip, “Look For the Woman” explain:
It’s a common situation. The constant battle between not wanting to quit and knowing when it’s time to quit. It’s a fear that cripples anyone who’s ever been in a relationship with a few speed bumps. What if you never get over whatever the issue might be? What if you just keep trying to tolerate it and fix it and in the end become resentful? Surely the inevitable will happen anyway? Then you’ve wasted all that time too. Time that we’ve already established, is a valuable commodity as you get older. But what if you’re wrong? You thought “you knew”… I could go on.
This leads to the inevitable.
Fear of being unhappy.
I mean, it’s self explanatory really. No one wants this. It’s that fear of not really knowing what the bloody hell to do. It’s that feeling of fighting a losing battle. Where you feel like you can’t live with them and can’t live without them. I guess the real difference between this and the previous fear, is that this is what doing nothing usually leaves you in fear of. It’s the act of just accepting your fate and plodding along. When you’re afraid of both wasting time and getting it wrong, as well as being alone. So now, because you’re too scared to act on either of the other fears, you’re also scared of being unhappy forever.
It’s perhaps a bit blunt to say, but there is usually a point in time where most of us have wondered — which is the lesser of the two evils? The fear of wasting time, or being fear of being alone.
Either way, unless you genuinely “know” (in which case, please, enlighten us all that are not yet convinced, as to how exactly it is that you “know”); unless you really are that confident — then this is the most basic of fears. This is entry level stuff and it will weave its way into the subconscious of anyone with an even an element of doubt.
Fear of missing out.
Otherwise known as FOMO. We all know someone who suffers from this and if you can’t decide who it is in your circle of friends, it means it’s probably you.
This is that one friend who never misses anything, just in case something goes down and they weren’t part of it. But before we pour scorn upon them, let’s not judge them for allowing it to manifest itself in the way it does. The likely reality is that of all your friends, they are probably the most lonely and unsure of themselves, looking for any available distraction to quash that feeling of unhappiness. Essentially they just don’t want to feel like life is passing them by. So for those in relationships, the bigger question (and real fear here) is… are you missing out on opportunities that you could be getting involved in if you were single?
Would you be happier with a bit more “me” time? We’ve all been in relationships where we’ve probably had to compromise on what we would like to have done. Forfeiting that “nightcap” down the local with the lads because you promised the girlfriend you’d be back in time to watch that reality TV show, again.
Let’s be honest, no one wants to feel like it’s all going on and they’re not part of it and being single does make it much easier to call your own shots and be your own man. So then you’re left wondering about the…
Fear of the grass being greener.
Maybe you could do better. I mean, you’re self sufficient. Successful. Have your own hair and teeth. You have your own home. You’re basically a catch. But how good exactly are you? 6/10? 7/10? Maybe even a 8 or a 9? So does that mean you should be aiming for 6 or 7 out of 10s too? Surely human behaviour dictates you aim higher?
“Settle down, don’t settle.” That’s the expression. If you have any form of unhappiness or doubts, surely you should get out of it? I mean I’m the first to criticise the Hollywood romanticism of that thunderbolt moment… but at the same time, if we’re not aiming for that, what are we aiming for?
Is the grass ever truly greener though? Honestly? Probably not. Relationships are tough, they take effort and commitment. They take compromise. They take understanding. They require you to accept someone for who they are, imperfections included. There is no shortcut and whilst that sounds like the “settling” I described earlier, the romantic in me wants to believe that actually it’s the complete opposite. If you love someone despite their imperfections, you’re doing the absolute opposite of settling. This person means so much to you that there is no settling involved.
Idealistic?
Maybe.
But if you have felt like that, if you have genuinely “known” and then for whatever reason lost it, you’ll probably be suffering from...
The fear that you had it all and you’ll never have it again.
For me, this is probably the biggest fear. One that if we’re not careful could follow us around forever. What if you spent so much time worrying about all the other fears that you missed it? You “knew” but were so worried about everything else that you failed to really acknowledge it or act on it? After all how could you be sure you knew, when we all thought we knew before? So you’re right back to where we started and the cycle begins again. If you add in to this mix someone with an element of self-doubt or a history of over thinking — they are definitely f*cked. They’ll be going around in this trap forever.
Now your fear is that maybe you’ve had the best that you’ll ever achieve. Or you are having it, but haven’t yet realised — because you’re still worrying about all of the above. What if this is it, but I’m still not convinced I “know”, so my inactions let it slip away? What if one that has already got away, was the one I was supposed to “know” about? Have I already lost the best I could have hoped for? Whether you’re looking back or looking forward, this fear can resonate. What if I never find this (or that) level of happiness again? What if no one ever makes me feel like this (or that) again? What if I’ve lost (or lose) the “one” and then spend the rest of my life trying to emulate it, but never get there?
That would make for a sad existence, but is this existence any better or worse than the ones described above? Is it better than being alone? Is accepting it for what it is better than feeling like you got it wrong? Then you’re back into the fear of wondering whether the grass is greener on the other side of the fence and how you’re supposed to “just know” if it is or not.
Truth is, I don’t think any of us will ever truly know the answer to any of the above fears and that in itself is part of “the fear”. You will never know how things could’ve played out, or where your life would be or could’ve been if you’d made a different choice. Even the smug bastards who claim “we just knew” can’t tell you that.
All we can hope for is that whatever choice we do make, we can stand by it with absolute conviction. No matter what. Otherwise the doubt will eat away at you forever.
Good luck with that.
