I have occasionally used this space to opine ruefully about my ongoing aloneness. I don’t do it very often for several reasons:
- I am aware that it makes people uncomfortable.
- Much of the time, I’m perfectly content being alone.
- I think stoicism in the face of suffering is laudable and don’t want to be hypocritical.
- When the loneliness is getting to me, “sharing my feelings” (ugh, I even hate writing that) makes me feel better without actually addressing the problem, so it is actually self destructive.
All that said, there is one source of lonely feelings I experience sometimes that is totally not my fault, and I am going to take a moment to curse the heavens about it.
I don’t have kids. I wish I did. While there is no magic wand I can wave, there are things I could do to set about towards changing that. So that’s not the thing, but it’s related to it.
Most of my other childless friend have siblings with kids. So they get to be an aunt or uncle. I’m an only child, so I don’t.
It’s not a big thing, but it’s a thing. I don’t get to be an uncle. Better people have worse problems, I know. Still, I wish it were otherwise.
That’s all.
