How Do You Know?
I’m in my late twenties and already onto the third job of my career. I stayed in each of my previous two roles less than three years — but I don’t consider this a bad thing. I’m curious. I like change. I like trying new things.
That being said, it also makes sense then that I’m a bit scared of commitment — I really like newness. I’m also highly independent and sure of myself — confident in my ways and am genuinely “good” on my own. Recently, I’ve had this question on my mind a lot in terms of relationships: how do you know?
The other night, I came home after a few drinks out and wanted some slower music to round out the evening before heading to bed, so I threw on some LÉON. Her song Chasing a Feeling came on (one of my favourites) and the line “how do you know you know?” stopped me in my tracks. It felt like such a coincidence, since I’d been tossing around that question in my head for the past week or so.
They say “when you know you know,” but do you really? I’ve been in a few situations in the past where I thought I knew, only to have the rug pulled out from under me. It seems reasonable that I now question myself more.
But I also think this period I’ve been in, and am still in, was meant for me — I’m just meant to be on my own right now. I do hope though that someday relatively soon, I meet someone with whom I just “know” — it’s not that I don’t believe in this concept; it’s the dream. It’s just that forever is a long time and being with one person for forever seems like a long time indeed — even jobs I’ve loved, I’ve left; friendships I’ve loved eventually split apart.
Hoping for that traditional “forever” truly seems so intimidating to me. How can one person be your forever? It’s almost more scary to me to think back on past relationships of mine and realize that what I thought was my forever really wasn’t right for me — hindsight is truly 20/20.
There exists a massive paradox of choice these days when it comes to dating. It’s hard not to be plagued with wondering: What if there’s something “better”? What if there’s something more?
Aren’t we all sort of playing this game? Isn’t this what all of us on the dating apps are doing? It’s become gamified and we’re all just trying to level up ourselves and then level up with the partner we choose for ourselves. Aren’t we all just hoping that each new person we go out with will be better than the last? And if we’re all constantly playing the game and “levelling up,” how often do people actually win the game?
On the flip side, I always say I don’t want to settle — I know what I want and what I deserve, and am keen to get it, but am OK if that means having to wait a little longer. But how do you determine a middle-ground between settling and aiming too high? Too far in either direction and you’ll likely be unhappy, left unfulfilled or disappointed.
So, I ask again, how do you know? I don’t have an answer. I’m still working on figuring out when I know, but I’ve at least learned how to know when it’s not right.
Especially over the past year, I’ve learned and gotten better at not forcing things that aren’t meant for me — no more chasing. To some extent, I believe the best things in life are easy — friendships, relationships — or at least this is true of the kind that I seek. They should flow and make you feel at ease and like you don’t have to try too hard. Whether in a relationship context or a more general life one, I firmly believe that if you try to force someone’s hand (to be with you, to act a certain way, whatever it may be), it only makes it less likely to happen. At the end of the day, you truly can’t change someone — they need to do it for themselves. Also, what does it say about you and your self-worth that you would choose to be with someone who doesn’t really want to be with you or is unsure if they want to be with you? — someone who only makes you an option, not a choice.
This is a concept I was introduced to by Mark Manson’s blog post, which I came across a few summers ago. Bluntly titled Fuck Yes or No, this piece changed my life — it gave me such valuable perspective, offering me an angle I’d never considered before. Applicable to relationships and beyond, basically the premise is that if you’re not “Fuck Yes” about something/someone (meaning you’re all in and thrilled about it), then ultimately it’s a no.
I encourage you to read his post. It had such a massive impact on my thinking and I come back to it often, when I find myself wavering and indecisive in a dating context. He doesn’t sugar-coat things, but that’s often exactly what I need — a good kick in the pants. It serves as a reminder that we should be seeking that “Fuck Yes” feeling — that feeling where you know you want to be with the person and aren’t questioning yourself.
As much as I’ve tried to adopt this, I think it’s been harder for me to learn and accept that that “Fuck Yes” feeling doesn’t have to forever — it can be just for now, even as my age keeps climbing up. I need to accept this in order to somewhat take the pressure off situations, even if just for my own sanity.
The concept of forever is hard and we put enough pressure on it already. I’ve been with people who I would have considered a “soulmate” or “the one,” but maybe in a lifetime we have multiple — maybe life isn’t as simple as one person forever.
Coming back to my original question of how do you know?, I’ve also been thinking about this a lot in the context of my writing on here. I constantly have multiple drafts on the go that are about 80% done I’d say, but they aren’t “just right” yet. But I’ll go in and fine-tune them and finish them up and then, at some point, I just “know” it’s done. But how do I know? — ultimately, it’s just a gut feeling and I seek to find that same sense of knowing in my future relationships. I’m striving to keep my heart open to that which is easy and comes naturally, and trusting when it feels that way.
Whether in my writing or my relationships, there comes a point where you just have to trust in it — you showed up, you gave it your all, and that’s the most life can ask for. All that to say, I’m learning to trust more — to trust others, to trust myself, to trust in the process, and to instil trust in the not-knowing.