Dear Souseh,
I am writing with what feels like a trivial question given the state of the world, but also one plaguing me again and again.
I’m a single straight woman living in DC and interested in having a partner. But as humanity in the US continues to plummet and individualism thrives more every day, it feels increasingly difficult to engage with men. I continue to “put in the effort” by meeting people and going on dates, but I find myself in conversation with people who say things like, “What exactly is the issue on Palestine” or “I’m not political.” Look as I might, I can’t find the red flags ahead of a date and sometimes find myself wondering if the person sitting across from me works for the government or Project Veritas.
Simultaneously, I have dropped several childhood friends since October 7th, unable to engage or respect people who don’t pay attention to what is happening because it’s “on the other side of the world” or are “so busy,” even oblivious to the crumbling of our rights in the US as well as humanity.
I find myself surrounding myself only with those who agree with me, who I don’t have to explain myself to, and who understand my fluctuation from joy to rage to sadness without it needing to be explained — because they are the same.
I am trying to balance having a safe place to be me during this time period against the fear that I’m growing more siloed into communities that are echo chambers.
Do you have any advice on how to balance the two and/or whether to just hole up and brace for impact unless or until we move through this?
Signed,
Longing for Love inside the Beltway
Dear Longing for Love inside the Beltway,
It’s very interesting to me that your query seems to begin as one about dating (and we will definitely get to that), but then the actual question, it seems to me, is more about what sort of community you should be building at this moment. Should the communities we create be places of challenge or places of shelter? If we hang out with “only those who agree with [us]” are we risking “growing more siloed into communities that are echo chambers”? Is that ultimately a bad thing?
In the abstract, sure. We grow through friction and challenge. We learn from people who are different from us; who are interested in different things, who perhaps approach the world differently. But you’re describing a very specific situation here. You’re being put off by potential partners because they profess (or feign) ignorance on what’s happening in Palestine. You’ve dropped old friends because they refuse to engage with or see how they’re implicated in what’s happening “on the other side of the world.”
And so it seems to me that your instinct to only surround yourself with people who agree with you is correct. Because these are people who agree with you on genocide. People to whom you don’t have to explain your stance on genocide. People who understand your rage and sadness over genocide.
I’ve said this in some way in nearly every one of these columns so far, but it bears repeating. While the powers that be are acting like everything is the same, that whatever “normalcy” we had before can still be salvaged, the rest of us are living in the reality of a thoroughly altered world. Being in your “silo,” is grounding yourself in a place where you don’t have to deal with the effects of such dissonance. That isn’t an echo chamber; it’s a place where your calls of “is anybody there?” are met with the reassuring sound of other human voices looking to share the same miseries, the same joys.
What you say about “bracing for impact” conveys the truth that, in all the ways that count, the world (as we once knew it) is ending. But it’s not so much in a single explosion. It’s in all the explosions, big and small, that have been dropped or rigged or gone off in Gaza. It’s in all the arrests and deportations of immigrants. It’s in all the brutalities visited on demonstrators, the crackdowns on protest sites, the notices of termination sent to people speaking out. Freedoms across the so-called democratic West are being eroded in ways designed to benefit the economic elite, and while it is a slow end of the world, made up of many impacts rather than one big one, it’s still an end of the world. So yes, you need a community of like-minded people with whom you can brace, and cry, and rage, and celebrate milestones, and with whom you know you’ll be able to build and rebuild even as everything is being dismantled and destroyed. It’s the only way you can maintain your sanity. Don’t see it as a source of anxiety. You’re doing nothing wrong in staying within such communities. In fact, you’re doing everything right.
Now, for the first part of your question, the one you didn’t actually ask: how to find love, a partner, in the midst of all this? If only there were a way to vet the red flags before wasting an afternoon or evening of your life having to listen to someone ask you milquetoast questions about something that’s been dominating the news for two years now! I assume, if you’re using online dating sites, that you’re using your profile to make your political leanings clear. If you aren’t already, and if it doesn’t endanger you professionally to do so, I highly recommend that approach. If you’ve avoided doing it over the aforementioned fear that you’re not opening yourself up to new experiences, you have my permission at least to spare yourself the experience of explaining basic decency and humanity to your dates. If you’re already doing it and still meeting these politically clueless duds, then all my sympathies to you.
What is the magic alchemy of meeting the right person? The formula of turning straw to gold, a frog into a prince? The answer, obviously, is there is no formula. Being in the right place at the right time; meeting the right person at the right time; being able to recognize them, and they you — how does any of this happen? No one wants to hear this, but so much of it comes down to sheer dumb luck.
But that doesn’t mean you abandon the wish for a fulfilling partnership or deem yourself unlucky for not having found one yet. My advice to anyone looking to pursue love is, well, to pursue love. Pursue it wherever you find it and in all its forms. What do you love? Dancing? Singing? Hiking? Kinstsugi? What new hobbies pique your interest? Crochet? Making cyanotypes out of dried flowers? Who are your favorite people to spend time with? What shows or books or activities get you excited? What spaces in the city feel magical to you? What paths in what nearby or faraway woods? What are your favorite foods? Spend time every day actively engaging with someone and something that you love. As you do it, remind yourself of love, that you do this for love. It might sound trite but it isn’t. Love brings us more love; joy more joy. The pursuit of love is something that can permeate everything you do in life. And it is right there, waiting for you. Not dependent on a partner or even other people. Not dependent on time or place. Despair, frustration over not having found a partner is a distraction from the love that is already there, all around you. And from the challenge of learning more about yourself through the relationships you already have. This doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel bad sometimes or vent or feel unhappy about it. In fact, venting to your friends, sharing your vulnerabilities with them, is another practice of love.
Loving other people is something we learn only by doing. Even with the wrong people — the wrong lovers, the wrong friends, even the wrong parents and siblings — we are learning. It’s the ultimate embodiment of “the journey not the destination.” Every relationship, romantic or otherwise, is an opportunity to learn what we are capable of, both good and bad. Every relationship a process of negotiation, of delicate, ceaseless negotiation, between self and other. This is how you learn what you need, what you’re capable of compromising on, what you’re capable of giving — to yourself and others. That’s the challenge you’re looking for. Not debating the politics of genocide with unengaged or outright malicious people.
This community you’ve built of like-minded people? That’s the pursuit of love. Keep pursuing love, and you will find yourself in love; you will realize that you can spend long increments of your day inside the experience of love. That love is a shield against dissonance, a reminder of what you fight for in choosing to surround yourself with like-minded people, and also the most important way to fight in a world where, as you put it, humanity continues to plummet and individualism to thrive. What greater antidote to both is there than love and community?
As for a partner? Hopefully, as you pursue love in all its other forms, you will find him too. May the sheerest, dumbest luck be with you.