Michael,

I’m 34, and after being on the dating scene for about 12 years, I’m coming to the conclusion that I don’t want to be in a relationship. 

I don’t love hanging out with the same person over and over again. I don’t feel all gooey when I’ve been with someone for a while. I run out of things to say, and also, it just gets boring.

I like my space. I don’t like having to share the bathroom or have someone next to me all night, especially when they want to go to sleep holding me. I know that sounds like heaven to a lot of people but it just feels intrusive to me. 

It’s a pain to have to compromise what I want to do. When I want to go someplace on vacation, or try a restaurant, or get up early to go to the gym, or sleep in, I don’t want to have to run that by someone else and get their OK. Life’s short. I want to do what I want to do.

I feel like we are constantly bombarded with the message to date and find a mate, but I don’t really see the point.  I don’t think I’m an introvert—I have a lot of friends—but I also like to spend time by myself and not be accountable to anyone.

When I think about marriage, it seems like a very old-fashioned concept, developed for straight people who want to have children. Historically you needed one person to work and another one to stay home and raise the kids. And you needed to stay together to give your kids two parents and a stable home. I get that.

But if I’m not having kids, what’s the point? I don’t need a husband to have sex. I can and do hook up all the time. It’s so easy to find someone online. And I get to have a lot more variety when I’m single than when I’m dating. Even though my relationships are always open, when I am dating someone, I always hook up a lot less, because I have to worry about the boyfriend’s feelings being hurt if I hook up “too much.”

I know I sound unromantic and maybe selfish but this is how I see it.  

My friends are all about having a boyfriend. They think I’m being ridiculous. Can I get another opinion?

Michael replies:

You make great points. Relationships do require us to give up some of our independence. They can feel stifling at times. And when the excitement of a new partner fades, things will at times feel “boring” in all sorts of ways, including sex. You can choose to avoid all of this by remaining single.

But relationships also give us tremendous overlapping opportunities to grow, including:

Being pushed to develop a clear sense of self: When we must constantly decide what we are willing to do or not do as part of a couple; and when our partner inevitably and frequently has interests, values, and priorities that conflict with ours, then we are challenged, over and over, to decide what is most important to us and how we want to live our lives.

Frequent opportunities to build resilience: All those old issues from our past that get us upset or riled up? We have to work through them so that we can stay (pretty) calm rather than losing our minds when our buttons are pressed.  

Improving our ability to have hard conversations – and without rancor: Unless we’re able to disagree, speak up, or confront when it’s important to do so, we are going to twist ourselves into a pretzel striving to accommodate the other person. And being able to engage in tough talks in a loving way is necessary if we want to have a loving relationship.

Becoming a more generous person: You wrote that you like to have things your way. But part of life, whether or not we are partnered, involves being thoughtful, considerate, and willing to put someone else first at times. Great relationships require us to do all of these things regularly—and many of us find that contributing to the happiness of someone we care about can increase our own happiness.

Besides these ongoing challenges, relationships give us the experience of someone knowing us deeply, and knowing someone deeply.  There can be great comfort in going through life with someone with whom we have this intimate connection, along with ongoing shared experiences of trust, support, comfort, and love. Long-term companionship is also an adventure: Can we keep the relationship vibrant and fun as we both keep changing over time? 

If you choose to remain single: Many people play their friendships on the easy setting, keeping things pleasant, on-the-surface, and non-confrontational; and cutting people off when things aren’t going well. Hanging in there to deal with the rough stuff can lead to deeper, longer friendships, and plenty of personal growth.

I do have a question for you: I am curious what sort of relationships you saw growing up, and what your own relationship experiences have been.  

Intimate relationships aren’t for everyone, and you get to decide what is right for you. But if your negative view of relationships is influenced by having witnessed or experienced intrusive or just plain awful relationships, maybe you want to do some work (therapy, for example) to heal from this stuff, rather than letting your past limit your future. A healthy relationship means being part of a couple while also remaining a vibrant individual, not being stifled, bored, and losing your independence.  

(Michael Radkowsky, Psy.D. is a licensed psychologist who works with couples and individuals in D.C., Maryland, Virginia, and New York. He can be found online at michaelradkowsky.com. All identifying information has been changed for reasons of confidentiality. Have a question? Send it to [email protected].)

Dear Michael,

I stopped talking to my family last year because they all voted for Trump. It’s not like they didn’t know whom they were voting for — they’d already had four years of seeing him in action.

I decided that I couldn’t remain in contact with people whom I felt wanted to take away my rights as a gay man. That is what they essentially did by voting for Trump.

They had come to my wedding in 2012, they had welcomed my husband and me into their homes for the holidays for our entire relationship, so I couldn’t believe how little they actually cared about me and my community. I was profoundly hurt.

They’ve reached out but I have been too angry at their hypocrisy to engage in more than a perfunctory way. I miss them, sure, but as I’ve watched our community be attacked, I just get so angry that I don’t want to talk. I certainly don’t want to hear them justify bigotry and hatred.

Now one of my siblings has reached out to let me know that my father’s health is rapidly declining. I’m wondering if I should rethink my decision and reach out to him, maybe even visit, before he dies.

But then I think of ICE’s attack on our country and the removal of the Pride flag from Stonewall and I don’t want to talk to people who support what is happening to vulnerable, marginalized people and the LGBTQ community.

My father was a good father to me. Even when I first came out to him, he was loving and supportive. I can’t square his behavior personally toward me with his support of this regime. The hypocrisy makes me so angry. How could he purport to love me and then vote against my freedoms?

I would love some suggestions about how to square my two opposing viewpoints.

Michael replies:

Many years ago, a great mentor taught me that the one thing you can count on in a relationship is learning to tolerate disappointment: Both being a disappointment, and being disappointed in the other person. This is true for love relationships and it’s also true for other significant relationships. All of us are different in some major ways and so we are bound at times to disappoint our loved ones in major ways, and to be disappointed by them in major ways.

That is why I’m not a fan of purity tests. To expect that someone must think like you (much less vote like you) in order for you to have a relationship with them is unrealistic, impractical, and sometimes damaging.

Of course, a person may hold some beliefs that give you reason not to want to have any connection to them. But is that the case here?

From your description, your family has always been loving and supportive of you as a gay man. That is no small thing. They seem to care about you enough to have continued to reach out, even though you have stopped talking to them. 

Perhaps they had some other reasons for voting as they did, other than to roll back LGBTQ rights and to attack immigrants.

Instead of wondering how they could be so hypocritical, how about talking with them and striving to understand their choices? I don’t know what they will say, and you may hear different answers from your various family members. But at least you will get some clarity, rather than presuming that they made their voting choices from a place of malice. Then you will be in a better position to decide if you want a relationship going forward.

Another point to consider: Very few things are set in stone. Even if your family made their voting choices based on holding positions that you neither like nor respect, they may be open to shifting their views over time. One way to perhaps influence their thinking is by engaging with them, sharing your thoughts, and asking them to consider the possible consequences of their actions. If you choose to re-engage with them, two points to consider: 

First, don’t expect that you will change their minds. You can advocate for what you want, but you have to let go of the results.

Second, they are more likely to consider your points if you do not approach them from a judgmental, self-righteous stance. 

Many years ago, when I was newly a vegetarian, I was eager to challenge and “educate” friends who weren’t following my dietary ideas. Guess what? It didn’t work. Then I got some great advice: A great way to influence others to consider eating fewer animals was to serve them delicious vegetarian food.

The same point is true here. We can’t beat people over the head to agree with us. But if we approach them with some kindness, rather than with the certainty that we hold the moral high ground, we may help them see a bigger picture.

And sometimes, we too may see a bigger picture.

Michael Radkowsky, Psy.D. is a licensed psychologist who works with couples and individuals in D.C., Maryland, Virginia, and New York. He can be found online at michaelradkowsky.com. All identifying information has been changed for reasons of confidentiality. Have a question? Send it to [email protected].

Dear Michael,

Some of my friends and I decided to do Dry January.

The six of us are a posse, we’ve been friends for years. Many boyfriends and even a husband or two have come and gone but we get together all the time and travel together. 

I think we all agreed that drinking is too big a part of our social lives and thought we’d give Dry January a shot.

So … I am feeling better and it’s only been three weeks. 

I’ve actually lost a little weight, and it’s nice not to wake up with a hangover four mornings a week. I’m pushing 40 and no surprise, my body feels relieved.

But, I’m also the only one of us who is still doing it.

Which means they are all going out and I am not. So I am feeling lonely.

I could join them in going out but first of all, I don’t really want to hang out with them when they’re drunk and I’m trying to be alcohol free; and also, there’s a part of me that is afraid I will give in to temptation and have a drink. And then it will be back to business as usual.

But, I spent this past weekend, and every night this week, alone.

All of this has me thinking: what do I do in February? I really don’t want to start drinking again.

But, if I don’t, how do I stay part of my friend group? If they’re buzzed (or drunk) and I’m not, am I still going to fit in?

I’m disappointed in my friends. We were all in this together, I thought, but one thing after another came up for them. 

Some special event where “everyone was drinking,” a work dinner where “I didn’t want to deal with everyone’s questions about why I wasn’t drinking,” “too much work stress not to have a martini,” etc. In the end they were all laughing about it and now they’re basically poking fun at me and essentially betting how long I will last. That doesn’t feel good. It’s like the whole thing was a whim or a joke to them.

Also, heavy alcohol use is pretty typical of our community. If I’m not drinking then how do I have a social life?

Appreciate your thoughts.

Michael replies:

It can be hard to be different. For example, to be gay in a straight world, or not to drink in a world where alcohol plays such a big part.

I’m a believer in living in a way that respects whom you actually are. This means doing what you think is important to do, even when there are consequences you don’t like. Only you can decide the boundary where the consequences of your living with integrity become intolerable.

Yes, many gay men drink a lot. So if you decide you don’t want to hang out where alcohol is involved, you will be reducing your options for socializing.

Some possibilities:

• Discuss this situation with your friends. Ask them if they’re willing to spend some time with you and without alcohol. (Not all the time — that would be way too much to ask, given that they clearly enjoy drinking.) Perhaps if you explain why your request is important to you, they’ll be willing to lean in your direction at least some of the time. That they’re now mocking you for not drinking suggests I am a bit too optimistic about this possibility. But who knows? And, what have you to lose by asking? 
• See if you can tolerate hanging out with people who are drinking without picking up a drink yourself, and if you can actually enjoy such interactions. 
• Start looking for some new friends. There are, in fact, lots of gay men in this world whose social lives don’t revolve around alcohol (or other substances.) 

On a separate but related note: given your fear that you will start drinking again, and your concerns about navigating life without alcohol, might you consider Alcoholics Anonymous to get some support?

I’ve seen AA and other 12-step groups help many friends and clients, and I think they work in two main ways.

First, attending meetings gives you support and a feeling of community. You’ll meet others who are working to be sober, hear their stories and share your own struggles with them. You’re likely to feel less alone in your effort to stop drinking, learn tools for staying sober, and make friends you can reach out to when you’re feeling vulnerable. You’ll also have a sponsor, your guide and advocate in the program, whom you talk with regularly.

Second, the program lays out “12 steps” of recovery that are a path to greater self-awareness and personal growth. Like good psychotherapy, the steps give you a framework for looking at your behavior patterns and taking responsibility for yourself. 

If you are intrigued, the best way to learn more is to attend several 12-step meetings. There are many in our area, including gay groups (for example, the Triangle Club.) As I mentioned, if you do get involved in AA, a side benefit is that you’re likely to make some new friends who share your desire to build a life without alcohol.      

Of course, making new friends does not have to mean cutting off your posse. But if you’re changing in ways that make them less of a great fit, it would be great to find some new folks who might be more on your wavelength to connect with.

Michael Radkowsky, Psy.D. is a licensed psychologist who works with couples and individuals in D.C., Maryland, Virginia, and New York. He can be found online at michaelradkowsky.com. All identifying information has been changed for reasons of confidentiality. Have a question? Send it to [email protected]