A few days ago, I ran into a stranger. This stranger was someone I had known before, someone I loved. After one year, we met again as strangers; his eyes looked at me with indifference.
I had imagined meeting him again. In my imagination, we had a nice conversation and connected like the first time. However, this meeting was cold and uncomfortable. Suddenly, I forgot how to speak English; I have spoken to an audience of doctors before, but now, standing in front of two, I find myself without words. I managed to vocalize a question: “What have you been up to?” – “Busy,” his response was followed by an awkward silence. Embarrassed, I went home and cried for the rest of the day.
Since starting residency in New York, I have been looking for a partner. Anyone who has watched Sex and the City knows this can be challenging. As a pediatrics resident with limited free time, I have balanced working, exercising, sleeping, and dating. I have tried the usual: online dating, singles events, friends’ referrals. I have met great people; however, not the right person for me.
I made three other drafts before this post. Initially, I wrote about what I learned in my journey as a single woman: independence, self-love, acceptance, and thankfulness. I also mentioned the great friendships I made along the way. All of this is true; I am grateful for the lessons and lucky to have friends. However, in my previous drafts, it seemed like I was pretending to be happy about being single, and that’s not how I feel.
The truth is that I am single, and I am sad about it. During these three years, I have dealt with self-doubt and shame. Is there something wrong with me? Am I being too superficial, too idealistic, too demanding? Am I trying too hard or too little? I have been rejected and have had many disappointments.
Every day, I see children with terrible diseases, some of them burdened with lifelong disabilities. I try to rationalize that compared to them, my problem is minuscule. In modern times, as an independent, strong woman, I should not be sad about being single. But as hard as I try, the sadness is still there.
In the book “Bittersweet,” the author Susan Cain says that if we don’t acknowledge our own heartache, we can end up inflicting it on others; but if we realize that all humans know—or will know—loss and suffering, we can turn toward one another.
Acknowledging our pain is a step towards self-compassion. We should stop rationalizing whether our problem is worth our tears or trying to measure our pain against someone else’s. Pain cannot be measured; it can only be felt. By recognizing our pain, we can work on taking care of ourselves. The Bible says we should mourn with those who mourn, but how can we mourn with those who mourn if we have learned to dismiss our pain? As self-compassion deepens, we can have genuine compassion for others.
Today, I decided to write about my sadness, and somehow, by doing so, I feel better. To live is to suffer, but to strive is to find meaning in suffering. This post is written for anyone who is suffering. I hope you know that being sad is okay; it is normal and human. I hope your circumstances change soon, and if this is not possible, I hope you find meaning in your suffering.
Dedicated to JB