On Being ‘Alone’

A death at any age, if it could and should have been avoided, is a death too soon. The life of a person with no children, parents, siblings or partner is as significant as a person with familial connections. Having an ‘underlying condition’ or a disability does not make a person less valuable. How distressing that this has had to be said again and again over the last couple of years.

I must admit to personal concern here. I am 63 with an underlying health condition and I could be a bit thinner (!), my parents are both dead, I have no siblings and I am a widow and childless. I would suggest though, insist even, that  I, like similar others, STILL have much to give; I work (as educator, mentor and researcher), I volunteer, I am an activist for social justice, equality and peace, I love and support my friends who love and support me. I walk, swim, read, laugh ..... and more and more. I am just one example of many who live lives differently from society’s stereotypical ideal.

I have spent the last 30+ years, through research and in scholarly, and other, writings (including memoir and fiction) arguing against the stereotypes of the so called childless as pitiable and childfree as selfish. ‘So called’ because many people who do not parent children nevertheless live child-full lives through both their work (as educators, health professionals and more) and personal relationships. Part of my activism takes place on social media and here I often find myself challenging assumptions, expectations and prejudice. My political leanings are as far as you can imagine from those of the previous Prime Minister Theresa May but on several occasions I’ve strongly disagreed with others who claim that her ‘barrenness’ determines her ideological stance. In 2020 I responded to a journalist who sneeringly referring to ‘childless pundits’ wrote ‘ we don’t want advice from the childless’ (on how to parent during lockdown). My plea was for us to acknowledge and value the similarities between us all, rather than to find, and encourage, differences and division. I’ve written before about the exclusion of those who have no children of ‘their own’, not least in ‘I’d have thought you’d be over that by now.' | ABCtales but here I’m also interested in another ‘expected’ status.

Since my husband John died in 2010 I have lived, mostly happily, alone. A few years ago I did have a couple of flirts (pun intended) with online dating sites (something I’ve never admitted so publicly before) but both ended almost before they had started, mostly because I was ‘matched’ with men who I had very little in common with. As I say though, on the whole I am very comfortable in my own company at home. I have many very good and dear friends who I spend time with outside of my flat and others (in this country and further afield) who I meet online. I do admit to finding the first Covid19 lockdown challenging and was very glad when the introduction of ‘social bubbles’ meant that I could spend time with my closest friends. Additionally there are times when I wish that there was someone else to help with household tasks and decision making but I appreciate too the freedom having no partner gives me. I miss John and other loved ones who have died but I rarely feel lonely.

Research suggests that social isolation and loneliness (the sadness of being without friends and companions) are akin to a chronic long-term condition in terms of the impact they have on the health and wellbeing of individuals and I acknowledge this as a real and significant issue for some. On the other hand solitude (the state or situation of being alone) can be a positive experience with freedom, creativity, intimacy, and spirituality all viewed as benefits of being alone. With this is mind I’m increasing struck by dominant messages that highlight (as with my biological childlessness) not only my difference but my perceived lesser status as widowed, and single. It has been argued that the loss of social identity and the loss of social connectedness associated with widowhood result in ‘social death’. Although this can be the case for some, for others, including myself, this is inappropriate. Yet again and again the message we receive from music, literature and drama is that the only happy ending is to be partnered and the alternative results in isolation and unhappiness, even suspicion. Anyone familiar with ITV3 and the Drama Channel (both assumed to be watched more by those from the 'older generation') will be familiar with the mix of adverts on mobility aids, life insurance, funeral coverage and cruise holidays and over-50s dating sites. These views and images are supported by news reports that feature celebrities, politicians and lay folk that refer to the marital and parental status of the person being written about even when these are not relevant to the story. In addition to these public messages I have experienced similar in my personal life. Many years ago (in the early 1990s) following the end, through divorce, of my first marriage a close friend said ‘well of course I can’t invite you to dinner any more’ and more recently I’ve been struck by other friends in new relationships speaking of how their previous (now deceased) partner would not want them to be on their own. To all this I can only say again that although I might live alone my life is full of interesting activities and wonderful people and even though I do not have a partner I still have something, dare I say much, to give to others and the world in general.