Clodagh Butler
Staff Writer
Like so many other students, I started my college experience in a relatively long-term relationship. You know how it goes; 3 years, best friends, same social circle, you know one another’s family inside out, a few ’luvs’ on Bebo: #howeyedebsdate. A wonderful little bubble world.
Like so many others students, I soon realised that developing the person I was becoming, the person I really always had been and just didn’t know it yet, wasn’t compatible with the nature of this bubble world. It wasn’t so much a case of out-growing the relationship, but out-growing the old me who had been in the relationship. It had been a long time coming, I knew that. And so it began. Hello transition period.
So I took some down time. I listened to some Whitney Houston. And then some Adele. The music itself wasn’t actually that therapeutic, it was helpful purely by virtue of the fact that it was a cliché. Solidarity in sadness; these girls were my ‘hunzos’. And then I was like hang on lads I’m not even that sad. Bring on the Britney phase; reliving the pre-relationship under-age clubbing days. In no time at all I had used up my year’s supply of nostalgia and was right up to date, ready to party my pants off to Avicii and the likes.
Eventually I took my first step (slash slightly smashed stumble) into the wonderful world of ‘Shift and Drift’. I hadn’t dabbled in alcohol until the demise of The Relationship (merely coincidental) and so suddenly I felt like I finally understood what Asher Roth had been on about. I love college. I hit up every possible wine reception, attended every event I was invited to, said yes to every night out, made lots of new friends, laughed more than I ever had before and developed a new male obsession for every day of the week. And it wasn’t just about having a (few) casual glass(es) of wine or the LADS, I actually loved that all my time was my own. I spent more time in college, got involved in societies and generally surrounded myself with people whose company I really enjoyed. Living the absolute dream.
It was at this point, during a crowded, sweaty, alcohol fuelled Madhaus sesh that I swore never to ‘settle down’ again. Ever. Or until I’m like 50. Or 30.
I hesitate to use the word cynical, and would rather refer to myself as realistic, but in reality I did become quite cynical towards people in relationships. I just didn’t really understand why they thought that was a better option than the dream I was living as a singleton. All the girls in my close group of friends started this year as single ladies, most of them also just recently after recovering from the long-term relationship epidemic. We were psyched for the antics that would ensue.
However, it was only as February 14th rolled around that I realised that some of the girls had found themselves involved with a guy again. They were settling down. And despite being a self confessed romance-phobe, I wasn’t cynical in any way towards the girls, the lads they were with or their relationships. I was delighted for them. I knew this was because, having spent time with them and their respective other halves, I could see how genuine their relationship was, how they actually do have so much fun together. I could feel their chemistry. And chemistry is key.
This is when it dawned on me. I never had any issue with anyone settling down. I couldn’t believe I was thinking it, but I never even had any problem with the idea of settling down myself. My cynicism was actually based on and directed towards those who settle. It hit me that that may have been what the final stages of my relationship were; convenient and comfortable. My only experience of a relationship was one where I was in a comfort zone that was daunting to leave. I realised how quickly we can become emotionally attached to someone just by spending time in their company and sharing experiences with them during which you expose yourself.
And that’s not enough. As far as I’m concerned, emotional attachment, domesticity, convenience and compatibility are not reason enough to be in a relationship with someone. Chemistry is a fundamental element. The ‘je ne sais quoi’, the feeling that is not easily defined but universally understood, something this person possesses that makes them distinctive, and every minute you spend with them exciting and enjoyable, as opposed to just grand. And that is not idealistic; it actually happens. People who tell themselves otherwise are more likely than not justifying their own situation of having settled. Obviously it’s not always a walk in the park, but a relationship is such a huge commitment at this stage in our lives that I feel any argument or disagreement would have to be completely justifiable by the genuine attraction and strength of the relationship. Otherwise it will result in both parties being emotionally, mentally and physically drained from the whole experience. I’ve been there. It is not key.
I heard a song recently in which the female (I think it may have been Mel C but I didn’t realise she was back on the scene) claimed that she’d ‘rather be lonely with you, than lonely alone.’ I think this very much sums up the concept of settling. And I suppose, with the 20/20 vision of hindsight, I can’t understand why people aren’t brave enough, and honest with themselves, to recognise the difference and take a leap of faith, albeit out of the arms of someone you’re comfortable with and into a crowd-surfing sesh in a nightclub. Fall flat on your face. Surprise yourself when you laugh, and someone helps you up, and every moment after that is exciting because it now presents an opportunity.
I now realise that my cynical view of relationships was unjustified and unnecessary, but feel enlightened and inspired upon recognising the very slight but crucial difference between settling down, and settling. I myself will never, ever settle again. Chemistry is too thrilling to pass up; I’ll hold out for my next dose of it, however fleeting it may be. That said, I have absolutely no problem with the concept of settling down, because that’s a different ball game altogether.
A very good friend of mine once said that she’d rather never, ever get married than settle. The lads scoffed and didn’t believe her, but she remains firm in her opinion. This girl is the biggest romantic I’ve ever met but she’d pass up the big white wedding and the cliché just to wait, potentially in vain, for the real deal. We don’t accept second best in any other aspect of our lives; courses, careers, friendships. Why on earth would the aspect that’s supposed to be most inspiring and all consuming be one which you’re a little bit ‘meh’ about?
And in an ironic twist, I, as a self-confessed romance-phobe and cynic, demonstrate a quality of a die-hard romantic; holding out for Mr. Right. Cringe.
Settle down, by all means. But I think it’s important that we’re sure we’re not just settling.
