Sorry, But Your ‘Perfect’ Partner Doesn’t Exist

A romantic wishlist is a nice thought, but it’s also creepy and unfair. It’s setting up an impossible monstrosity of expectations and you’ll be disappointed for no other reason than you played yourself.

I don’t mean lowering your standards. I mean setting real ones, for actual people who exist. For people who are just people and not a customized Frankenstein creature.

The person you’ll end up with is going to be their own person with their own hopes, dreams, goals, anxieties, and weird little habits. They’re not a checklist trophy that will meet your every size or quota.

They’re going to be way different and in fact way more interesting than the stitched up hologram made from half-baked movie cliches and choir-preaching memes.

Relationships are about compromise. Not compromising yourself, no. But about two weird people making it work. It’s a wild mix of chemistry, compatibility, non-negotiables, history and trauma, highs and lows, disagreements and pushback and feedback, augmenting goals, and lifelong change.

After the blinding honeymoon phase is over, you’re going to find that you’re way more selfish than you ever dared imagine. It’s nobody’s fault, really: you spend years in your own preferences and comfort and the way you’ve always done things, and those deep pathways get uprooted when you merge with someone else.

For all our pop songs about “love is sacrifice,” no one’s naturally good at this. And for all our pop songs about “find someone who accepts you,” no one’s naturally going to agree with every single thing you think or do. Otherwise, you’re asking for a robot with an off-button.

“Get you a guy/girl who” only works if you see yourself as a main character-savior-hero and you see others as a secondary prop to fulfill your romantic comedy narrative. In that case, you have other issues and you can wait.

And waiting in the meantime is a really good time for growth, for self-discovery, and for becoming the kind of person you never knew you were looking for. Singleness, really, isn’t waiting. It’s being. It’s being enough for yourself so you’re not coercing someone else to fulfill you.