I discussed the story on the homepage of Google several weeks before, seven myths on being unmarried, and the emails I had gotten in reply to it. One theme showed up just in a tiny number of those emails, yet it seems to have set up store behind my mind. That's usually a hint to write down on it.
The theme is this: "My life is not like that," where "that" refers to the actual lives of unmarried people, as I described them in beating back the myths. The people who wrote to me (mostly people I had never heard from before) said things like (and I'm paraphrasing because I did not ask their permission to use their exact words), "I'm unmarried and I'm not happy" or "I'm single and I'm lonely" or "I'm single and I don't have lots of friends, but I like it that way."
My first thought in response to such comments is that I am describing the overall trends that I have found in published studies and not individual variation - and there always is variation from person to person. The overall trends are important, and especially so if they counter ingrained stereotypes about singles - for example, that they are miserable and lonely and isolated from the rest of society. When I think about that myth that unmarried people are unhappy, and how robust it is, I just have to shake my head in bewilderment - especially when I contrast that misperception with what the data actually show. In more than a decade of looking closely at every relevant research paper I can find, I still haven't found one in which the average happiness of single people was not on the happy end of the scale.
It is also important, though, to acknowledge the variability. Some unmarried people really are unhappy or lonely or isolated. There are several points I want to make about that.
First, When people say, "I'm single and I'm unhappy," sometimes what they are implying is, "I'm unhappy (or lonely or isolated), and if only I got married, that would change." From long-term longitudinal studies of happiness, we know that any potential increase in happiness may not happen at all (often the case among people who marry and then divorce), may be fairly small, or may be fleeting. Yet there are people who do become lastingly happier after marrying. Statistically, they are countered by people who marry and become less happy, but that doesn't mean we should deny or diminish the experiences of the former group.
Second, I worry about descriptive claims morphing into normative ones. To translate the academic jargon in that last statement, my concern is that some people will think that the way most singles experience their lives is the way all singles should experience their lives. Take friendship, for example. I like to talk about the studies showing that singles often have whole networks of friends who are important to them because those findings are such important counterpoints to the stereotypes of singles as people who are "alone" and "don't have anyone."
But just because having a network of friends is important to some singles does not mean that it has to be important to you. I think we all have some ratio of solitude to sociability that is right for us. You can't know what the right balance is for you personally by reading about studies, no matter how large or how great those studies might be. It is something you need to figure out for yourself. It may even be something that changes over time, as it has for me. For my first decade or so of life as a university professor, I loved the intense sociability that came with my job. I had lunch with different colleagues every weekday. I had dinner with friends at least twice a week. There was probably only one day a week, on average, when I did not have any plans on my social calendar. I did cherish that day of solitude, but at the time, I would not have wanted more than one. Now my ratio of solitude to sociability tips more towards solitude, and at this point in my life, that's what feels comfortable and right.
What I mind about even more than unmarried life is dependability and selection. We should all feel free to live the life that is most significant to us, with no risk of stigma or dismissiveness. There is no one way of life that is totally free of troubles and problems. We're not selecting the ideal life, since there isn't one.
I also hope I had the big societal net that is usually related to singles. In weeks past, I had these kinds of networks, but not any longer. I do get lonely, but I'm not wishing for a romantic companion. I get lonely as I don't have friends nearby to have dinner weekly or go cycling with or go on a holiday with. Lots of this, too, stems not from being unmarried, but with the conventions related to being coupled.
Copyright by Lucy, a beautiful girl who likes collecting things, shopping online and playing computer, has a coach outlet store and a coach purses outlet with lots of fashion things.
A Story about Singles
I hope my life was more like the type of lone life I often read about
at this time. I'm not busting at the seams pleased with my life, but I
do know any disappointments I have with it are not because I am
unmarried. Several of them, on the other hand, ought to do with the way
singles are treated in society. For instance, I don't wish I were
married, but I do hope that it were simpler for unmarried people to
support themselves on one proceeds. So I'm not sad as I'm unmarried,
I'm sad because we live in an economy priced for married partners.
I discussed the story on the homepage of Google several weeks before,
seven myths on being unmarried, and the emails I had gotten in reply to
it. One theme showed up just in a tiny number of those emails, yet it
seems to have set up store behind my mind. That's usually a hint to
write down on it.
The theme is this: "My life is not like that," where "that" refers to
the actual lives of unmarried people, as I described them in beating
back the myths. The people who wrote to me (mostly people I had never
heard from before) said things like (and I'm paraphrasing because I did
not ask their permission to use their exact words), "I'm unmarried and
I'm not happy" or "I'm single and I'm lonely" or "I'm single and I
don't have lots of friends, but I like it that way."
My first thought in response to such comments is that I am describing
the overall trends that I have found in published studies and not
individual variation - and there always is variation from person to
person. The overall trends are important, and especially so if they
counter ingrained stereotypes about singles - for example, that they
are miserable and lonely and isolated from the rest of society. When I
think about that myth that unmarried people are unhappy, and how robust
it is, I just have to shake my head in bewilderment - especially when I
contrast that misperception with what the data actually show. In more
than a decade of looking closely at every relevant research paper I can
find, I still haven't found one in which the average happiness of
single people was not on the happy end of the scale.
It is also important, though, to acknowledge the variability. Some
unmarried people really are unhappy or lonely or isolated. There are
several points I want to make about that.
First, When people say, "I'm single and I'm unhappy," sometimes what
they are implying is, "I'm unhappy (or lonely or isolated), and if only
I got married, that would change." From long-term longitudinal studies
of happiness, we know that any potential increase in happiness may not
happen at all (often the case among people who marry and then divorce),
may be fairly small, or may be fleeting. Yet there are people who do
become lastingly happier after marrying. Statistically, they are
countered by people who marry and become less happy, but that doesn't
mean we should deny or diminish the experiences of the former group.
Second, I worry about descriptive claims morphing into normative ones.
To translate the academic jargon in that last statement, my concern is
that some people will think that the way most singles experience their
lives is the way all singles should experience their lives. Take
friendship, for example. I like to talk about the studies showing that
singles often have whole networks of friends who are important to them
because those findings are such important counterpoints to the
stereotypes of singles as people who are "alone" and "don't have
anyone."
But just because having a network of friends is important to some
singles does not mean that it has to be important to you. I think we
all have some ratio of solitude to sociability that is right for us.
You can't know what the right balance is for you personally by reading
about studies, no matter how large or how great those studies might be.
It is something you need to figure out for yourself. It may even be
something that changes over time, as it has for me. For my first decade
or so of life as a university professor, I loved the intense
sociability that came with my job. I had lunch with different
colleagues every weekday. I had dinner with friends at least twice a
week. There was probably only one day a week, on average, when I did
not have any plans on my social calendar. I did cherish that day of
solitude, but at the time, I would not have wanted more than one. Now
my ratio of solitude to sociability tips more towards solitude, and at
this point in my life, that's what feels comfortable and right.
What I mind about even more than unmarried life is dependability and
selection. We should all feel free to live the life that is most
significant to us, with no risk of stigma or dismissiveness. There is
no one way of life that is totally free of troubles and problems. We're
not selecting the ideal life, since there isn't one.
I also hope I had the big societal net that is usually related to
singles. In weeks past, I had these kinds of networks, but not any
longer. I do get lonely, but I'm not wishing for a romantic companion.
I get lonely as I don't have friends nearby to have dinner weekly or go
cycling with or go on a holiday with. Lots of this, too, stems not from
being unmarried, but with the conventions related to being coupled.
I hope my life was more like the type of lone life I often read about
at this time. I'm not busting at the seams pleased with my life, but I
do know any disappointments I have with it are not because I am
unmarried. Several of them, on the other hand, ought to do with the way
singles are treated in society. For instance, I don't wish I were
married, but I do hope that it were simpler for unmarried people to
support themselves on one proceeds. So I'm not sad as I'm unmarried,
I'm sad because we live in an economy priced for married partners.
I discussed the story on the homepage of Google several weeks before,
seven myths on being unmarried, and the emails I had gotten in reply to
it. One theme showed up just in a tiny number of those emails, yet it
seems to have set up store behind my mind. That's usually a hint to
write down on it.
The theme is this: "My life is not like that," where "that" refers to
the actual lives of unmarried people, as I described them in beating
back the myths. The people who wrote to me (mostly people I had never
heard from before) said things like (and I'm paraphrasing because I did
not ask their permission to use their exact words), "I'm unmarried and
I'm not happy" or "I'm single and I'm lonely" or "I'm single and I
don't have lots of friends, but I like it that way."
My first thought in response to such comments is that I am describing
the overall trends that I have found in published studies and not
individual variation - and there always is variation from person to
person. The overall trends are important, and especially so if they
counter ingrained stereotypes about singles - for example, that they
are miserable and lonely and isolated from the rest of society. When I
think about that myth that unmarried people are unhappy, and how robust
it is, I just have to shake my head in bewilderment - especially when I
contrast that misperception with what the data actually show. In more
than a decade of looking closely at every relevant research paper I can
find, I still haven't found one in which the average happiness of
single people was not on the happy end of the scale.
It is also important, though, to acknowledge the variability. Some
unmarried people really are unhappy or lonely or isolated. There are
several points I want to make about that.
First, When people say, "I'm single and I'm unhappy," sometimes what
they are implying is, "I'm unhappy (or lonely or isolated), and if only
I got married, that would change." From long-term longitudinal studies
of happiness, we know that any potential increase in happiness may not
happen at all (often the case among people who marry and then divorce),
may be fairly small, or may be fleeting. Yet there are people who do
become lastingly happier after marrying. Statistically, they are
countered by people who marry and become less happy, but that doesn't
mean we should deny or diminish the experiences of the former group.
Second, I worry about descriptive claims morphing into normative ones.
To translate the academic jargon in that last statement, my concern is
that some people will think that the way most singles experience their
lives is the way all singles should experience their lives. Take
friendship, for example. I like to talk about the studies showing that
singles often have whole networks of friends who are important to them
because those findings are such important counterpoints to the
stereotypes of singles as people who are "alone" and "don't have
anyone."
But just because having a network of friends is important to some
singles does not mean that it has to be important to you. I think we
all have some ratio of solitude to sociability that is right for us.
You can't know what the right balance is for you personally by reading
about studies, no matter how large or how great those studies might be.
It is something you need to figure out for yourself. It may even be
something that changes over time, as it has for me. For my first decade
or so of life as a university professor, I loved the intense
sociability that came with my job. I had lunch with different
colleagues every weekday. I had dinner with friends at least twice a
week. There was probably only one day a week, on average, when I did
not have any plans on my social calendar. I did cherish that day of
solitude, but at the time, I would not have wanted more than one. Now
my ratio of solitude to sociability tips more towards solitude, and at
this point in my life, that's what feels comfortable and right.
What I mind about even more than unmarried life is dependability and
selection. We should all feel free to live the life that is most
significant to us, with no risk of stigma or dismissiveness. There is
no one way of life that is totally free of troubles and problems. We're
not selecting the ideal life, since there isn't one.
I also hope I had the big societal net that is usually related to
singles. In weeks past, I had these kinds of networks, but not any
longer. I do get lonely, but I'm not wishing for a romantic companion.
I get lonely as I don't have friends nearby to have dinner weekly or go
cycling with or go on a holiday with. Lots of this, too, stems not from
being unmarried, but with the conventions related to being coupled.
没有评论:
发表评论