There’s Nothing Wrong With Being “Self-Partnered”
By: Elle Silver
Tags: Self, Relationships, Feminism, Women, Dating

There’s Nothing Wrong With Being “Self-Partnered”

There is something wrong with shaming people for being single.

Photo by bruce mars from Pexels

The Internet might have skewered Emma Watson for her “self-partnered” comment, but I say good for her. As the actor approaches her thirtieth birthday, she admits:

“I never believed the whole ‘I’m happy single’ spiel. I was like, ‘This is totally spiel.’ It took me a long time, but I’m very happy (being single). I call it being self-partnered.”

So she’s having a relationship with herself, and no one can deal. She’s being called out for everything from narcissism to talking nonsense.

Rachelle Hampton in her article on Slate, “Embrace Being Single, Emma Watson! Enough With This ‘Self-Partnered’ Nonsense,” warns:

“Self-partnering turns us even more into islands, suggesting that with the right mindset we can all be self-sufficient.”

Hampton goes on:

“The problem with declaring yourself self-partnered is that you’re ceding the argument, agreeing with the precept that some kind of monogamous partnership is a necessary component to a fulfilling life.”

I don’t agree. I think that Watson is simply talking about the importance of having a relationship with herself. Because when you’re in your biological prime, and especially when you’re female, people are very uncomfortable when you’re not partnered.

People very much need you to be in a relationship. I remember all too well how terrible it was to be a single female at Watson’s age. It was pure hell actually. My biological clock was ticking, and everyone was very concerned about that.

People were constantly asking me whether I was in a relationship or not, and shaming me when I said no.

My mom: “Anyone special in your life?”

Me: “No.”

My mom: “Maybe you’re just not cut out for a relationship.”

My other family members: “Don’t you have a special boy in your life?”

Me: “No.”

My other family members: looks of distress and murmured comments between each other about what could possibly be wrong with me because I didn’t have a “special boy” in my life.

My female friends: “So who are you fucking?”

Me: “No one.”

My female friends: “Why not? What’s wrong?”

There always had to be something wrong with me as the reason I was single or wasn’t going to bed with a new guy every other weekend.

My male friends: “How come you’re not dating anyone?”

Read: “How come you’re not fucking me?”

Dudes I met at bars and clubs: “You dating anyone?”

Me: “No.”

Dudes I met at bars and clubs: “You want to date me?”

Me: “No.”

Dudes I met at bars and club: “Fucking bitch.”

Or: “Why doesn’t a pretty girl like you have a million boyfriends?”

Tweet from Nov. 7, 2019, The Daily Show

I don’t know. Because the men I met sucked. Because I was immature for my age. Because I had a stormy relationship with my father growing up, which made it difficult for me to relate to men in a healthy way.

Because I was too sensitive for my own good. Because I was introverted, and I just didn’t like many people. Because I was also extroverted and so I liked everyone, but everyone didn’t like me.

Because I was weird. Because the men I met just didn’t click with me. Because I’d rather be alone than in a relationship with someone who wasn’t right for me.

Or because there was other stuff I wanted to do, experiences I wanted to have, far-off places I wanted to travel to, and I didn’t want to have to check in with a man to ask permission if I could do those things or not.

Why is it anybody’s business anyway who’s coupled up and who’s not? People only asked this question of me when I was younger because they were nosy.

Or because I was also figuring myself out at that moment, so I just couldn’t be in a relationship with anyone but myself.

The stress I used to experience because of my single status. The shit people used to say to me. The shame I used to feel for not having “special someone” in my life.

Sorry, world, but it took me a little longer than most to find him, and even when I did, it didn’t work out. I’m divorced now. So maybe I should have actually spent a little more time “self-partnered.”

Why is it anybody’s business anyway who’s coupled up and who’s not? People only asked this question of me when I was younger because they were nosy.

That or they wanted to know if I was available to fuck. Sometimes it was because they wanted to exert some sort of moral control over me. Or they just wanted to feel better about themselves, because they were in a relationship and I wasn’t.

Some people are messed up like that. It took me a long time to figure that out. It also took me a long time to figure out that I needed to have a relationship with myself before I could have one with someone else.

I wish I’d had the balls that Emma Watson has at her age to say I was self-partnered. Me? I just wanted people to approve of me. Sometimes I’d even lie, just to get people off my back.

Me: “Yup, I have a boyfriend.”

Them: “Oh, really? How long have you two been dating?”

Me: “A year.”

Them: “How come you never told me about him?”

Because he doesn’t actually exist!

I remember some of the worst shaming came from my male friends, because I always had a lot of them. These were often guys who were in long-term relationships with women whom I found to be incredibly boring. These men would bemoan the loss of passion in their own relationships, and yet they’d have the audacity to shame me for not being in one.

“We need to find you a man, Lara.”

Why? So you’ll no longer masturbate thinking about me? So my being single will no longer make you uncomfortable? So you won’t be jealous I actually have sex with different people while you’re stuck with the same person? So every time you see me I won’t remind you that you’re only staying with your girlfriend because you’re too scared to leave? Because being single terrifies you? It should. It’s incredibly difficult to stand up to society’s need for you to be coupled and not single.

The ironic thing is that as much as I felt ashamed about being single most of my twenties, when I did have relationships, I was always patently miserable. Because I just wasn’t ready to settle down. I still had to figure myself out.

And any guy I got together with was evidence of that. He was never right for me.

Because having a boyfriend wasn’t going to help me do the inner work I needed to do. I needed to have a relationship with myself first, period.

It wasn’t until I actually started “self-partnering” in my early thirties that I began to figure myself out. I began to fix the problems that had been holding me back from having relationships and from getting ahead in my life in general.

Because having a boyfriend wasn’t going to help me do the inner work I needed to do. I needed to have a relationship with myself first, period.

So let’s stop asking people about their relationship status, and shaming them not having a significant other.

And for crissakes, when a young person actually has the wherewithal to admit that they’re happily “self-partnered” then — jeez — leave them alone.

Let them be “self-partnered” if they want to be. I think it’s awesome that Emma Watson not only has the strength to admit there have been times when she hasn’t been happy single, but that she’s finally now doing what so many people never take the time to do: she’s having a relationship with herself.