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Photo by Luke Braswell on Unsplash

I’m sitting in the middle of the Changi City Point, watching the two girls running in circles around their parents, chasing each other in figure of eight. Giggling about how funny it is while the parents stood conversing calmly in between the circling girls on this carpeted atrium. A few kids are running around, taking advantage of the space since no event could be held, most likely due to Covid.

The couple that sits across me — is the guy dozing off in the middle of the atrium? People stream across heading to the various restaurants around the area. I’m listening to the Options Bootcamp podcast on repairing trade, in hope to find clues to salvage a nasty position I have on a few nights prior.

Yesterday night, I point out the lady who appears on the news as the organiser of the SDN event that I attend to my mum. My mum asks if I have met anyone of interest while dissing the fact that I pointed most people meet on dating apps nowadays.

The year is approaching an end and I’m a middle-aged single woman, happily so. Smelling the roses along my way, enjoying the juicy fruits of my labour that I have taken care to harvest in my recent two years of setting my sight to adult seriously.

In spite of the progress I make in my life, sometimes I wonder if my lack of interest in dating is a genetic defect that the law of evolution has left me out as a random bad player.

While friends are getting married, having kids, or earnestly looking for another long term mate, the profile on my dating app pretty much infer that I’m only looking for an activity partner. And perhaps trying to get someone who is curious enough to check out my videos and writings.

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My profile. If they really want to date me, they need to know how cheap I am.

Some acquaintances display shock or pretend to be when they curiously ask about my love life.

“Oh, you are not too bad looking, how come no boyfriend yet?”

As if being sort of good looking signifies a high probability of having a partner. If that is true, does it denotes that people who are plainer looking, or to a certain extent, “ugly” on the basis of society current beauty standards have a lower probability of finding a partner?

I don’t think there is an absolute number to it, because you are not taking into account the multi-variant that exist in the dynamics of a relationship. While being fairly pleasant-looking does increase the probability of potential encounters, it doesn’t take into account the various psychological context of the individual.

To entertain this thought, let’s just look at nature for variations of outcomes of the mating process. While the peacock with the longest tail could display their finesse, they increase the risk of being eaten up alive. In squids, we have cheater genes that the smaller males masquerade as female to increase the probability of mating with another female while escaping the rival mates.

The mating processes across different species each have their own unique intricacies. And human, one of the most complex animals, evolves in such a way that the mating process has become a whole slew of study in itself.

But I digress. What is it about emotions that people will feel interested in pursuing that I couldn’t? While I enjoy the occasional, or dare I say, rare entertaining discussion and deep dive into the complexities of another human on dating apps, it never seems to transpire into anything substantial or even slightly longer-term.

A myriad of books and youtube videos are more entertaining than the thought of having to rekindle the emotions with one single person again and again. Can you imagine if you have to take only one book in your life and is only allowed to read the revisions of that book?

Granted, a man is not the equivalent of a book. A man is more complex and has more hidden nuances, secrets and quirks.

Having a partner in life could be deemed as some to be a complete piece in their life. But it also signifies relinquishing portions of your self to another entity. At this age, I have already put a higher probability of remaining single for the rest of my life, reflective of my self derived psychological components.

I’m not a scientist, but even social science couldn’t nail it unanimously because of the multitude of the human psyche. There are various studies that show conflicting results of which group of people are happier. Some state singles are happier, some, married couples without kids, others, married couples with kids.

And then there are a group of people who jumped onto the studies to support their choice of life as if it is a medal for their choice of life.

You could be happy as a single, married, with or without kids. You don’t require a study to validate your emotions. Whether you are happier in one decision or the other is unique to you.

There is no denying that the majority of the people derive joy and sense of satisfaction from their immediate family. But if we believe in the normal distribution, in which case is valid, (because if everyone is deemed to be above average, then there is no average), we need to accept the fact that there are people who deviate away from the societal norm out of their own accord.

Perhaps there are some that lost the genetic proliferation race, like the worker bees that support the queen bees to build a colony. Or perhaps like Jane Austen, some are meant to combust alone, committed to an art form, impacting more on their chosen endeavour.

Whichever the case is, one has to answer, what if I were to die alone?

Written by

Frontend dev. I like my coffee with milk. Obsessed with the construct and potential of human. The Geek at

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