Mark Mehigan: ‘How will I know if it’s the right time to make a lifelong commitment?’

Q. So, picture this – a guy writing to another guy in a women’s publication… a bit left of field but this is modern Ireland right? Despite the unconventional vibes, I think you might be just the guy to help me. I’ve found myself in the maze of love and contemplation, and who better to ask than someone who’s been there, done that?

I’ve been living the bachelor dream for what feels like a lifetime, but now, I’m standing at the crossroads of singledom and the whole “forever” thing. I have met someone I think I love. The only problem is , if I move in with her and the relationship goes on to be a success, it means I will never again get to be by myself.

We have discussed it in depth and whilst both of us are ready to move onto the next step, I’m a bit afraid. I adore this girl, 100%. She’s the missing piece to my puzzle, but the idea of a lifelong commitment is giving me a dose of reality check. I am just not 100% sure. So, Mr. Agony Uncle, how do I know if now is the right time? Will I ever feel that?!

James,

Thank you for your message.

First things first, it’s impossible to live without compromise. In every department of life. And accepting that is one of the most irritating but useful cornerstones of adulthood.

As someone with a penchant for the perception of control and a healthy disdain for uncertainty, I can totally understand your anxiety around making any decision that has a full stop at the end of it. I spent most of my adult life leaving things ‘open’ and not committing to anything. Much like a four-hour flight that seems to consist entirely of the participants of this year’s “loudest whinge” competition in Tenerife, I’m the happiest when beside the exit.

I think as Irish people, we are experts at avoiding closure. I have countless friends from my early twenties with whom I share very little in common but if I bump into them in a supermarket or at somebody else’s wedding, I find myself blurting out prospective dates for a coffee and a dreaded catch-up that we both know is never going to happen.

Finality and permanence are daunting. Moving in with somebody is a bit of a leap. You are going into the unknown. That’s the reality. Things will either work out or they won’t. No matter which way you look at it, it’s a crossroads. There is no escaping that. From where you’re sitting now, it might be seductive to hedge your bets and let things ‘pan out’ until ‘the time is right’. But for me, it’s far more important that the person is right rather than the time being right. No matter how long you wait for the stars to align, if the person isn’t right for you, it won’t matter in the end.

If you are in love with this person, and she loves you back, and you share a similar vision for the future, what do you have to lose?

Well actually, I suppose there are some things. You will lose the autonomy and independence of being single. You will forfeit the freedom of leaving the reading light on as long as you wish. Those unwashed dinner plates can no longer just sit there until you’re finished watching another episode of The Chase. Your clock now has four hands. Her time and yours. Living with somebody requires a lot of compromise and getting used to. Everybody has their own weird ways and even the innocuous details of someone’s behaviour can become infuriating depending on the day.

For instance, Doireann does this thing where she folds up the tea towels and leaves them horizontally on the kitchen counter. I don’t know why, but it drives me demented. This isn’t Abercrombie and Fitch, it’s Castleknock. I like my tea towels to hang so they dry off in the air. Bear in mind, I say this as somebody who is about as easy to live with as an extreme nut allergy. There are Olympic gymnasts who couldn’t exercise the flexibility Doireann has displayed when it came to moving in with me.

Beyond the mundanities of domestic bargaining and getting chastised for skipping an episode ahead with whatever series you’re watching on Sky or Netflix, I think it’s vital to look at the elements of your life you genuinely feel like you might be sacrificing in order to move in with her.

Are you actually giving up these things or just letting go? The latter is okay and not something to be worried about. Healthy sacrifice is switching to oat milk because your partner has IBS. Unhealthy sacrifice is no longer seeing your best friends or engaging in any of your hobbies or interests that exist outside of the relationship. When I moved in with Doireann, I quickly realised that the idealistic bachelor life that I was preparing to mourn mostly consisted of regularly consuming the same amount of carbohydrates that a bear might in advance of hibernation and smoking cigarettes on the balcony with the windows and doors wide open.

In my case, it worked out. I no longer smoke and am still in love. But ultimately I think it comes back to one thing; the relationship you have with yourself. That must be protected at all costs, because everything else is secondary. If you are not happy within yourself and take the foot off the pedal when it comes to nurturing that relationship then the one you have with your partner will suffer too.

My advice would be to move in. But make sure to keep doing things by yourself too. Don’t wait until it’s too late and you find yourself driving around the local roundabout an extra few times before turning into your estate, just to prolong these short-lived moments of solitude that you’ve come to crave. And talk to your partner. The plot points of most romantic comedies would dissolve entirely if the leading character just sat down and had a thirty-second honest conversation with the person he desires.

Your partner loves you. She will want to hear about your concerns. She almost certainly has her own too. A conversation will do you both good. This is an exciting time and there is a reason that you want to live together. It’s too easy to say “Well, if I settle down with Ciara from Dungarvan, that means I’ll never get to marry a dark-haired Swiss goddess when I take a year out to work in a beach bar in Zurich” before remembering that Switzerland is landlocked and you don’t speak Swiss. Or German.

Don’t get so lost in the fantasy of ‘what else could be out there’ that you forget how good you’ve got it today.

Are you looking for love? Are you sick of the apps? Do you need some advice about love and dating? If you have a question for Mark, send it in to info@image.ie with the subject “Agony Uncle”, or DM @image.ie for advice straight from the Taoiseach of Grá himself.