Living the single life is great. There is no one to point out your quirks. You can leave your socks on the floor, or stack the dishes in the sink and only wash them once a week all in the name of efficiency. You can wear your Mickey Mouse ears around the house, and have a different colour of fuzzy bunny slippers for every day of the week. You can have ketchup on your peanut butter sandwiches and double dip your chips. You can basically do whatever you want, and no one will tell you you are weird.
It is only through interaction with others, relatively close and ongoing interaction, that you start to realize, maybe what is normal to you isn't quite so normal to the rest of the world. Living with roommates can provide this type of interaction, but it's not always effective. When I was younger and had roommates, I just assumed that they were the weird ones. And then as I got older (I'd say "more mature", but I'm sure someone would dispute that), I just got better roommates who were too polite to point out most of my oddities. Thanks DB. Although the more I think about it, the more I realize that it is may not just be politeness that kept some of my roommates quiet. It may also be the unvoiced, probably unrecognized fear that, if I point out their oddities, they might point out mine. And I really don't want to know how weird I am. Because I can call myself weird, and sort of recognize that I may have some habits that are different from most people, but until I start truly noticing what others do in different situations, and comparing myself, or being compared to, others, I don't know exactly how weird I am. Which means I can be happy in my weirdness. I can be completely normal, because I define what normal is, and as a single, my main frame of reference for "normal" is what ever I like.
While there is nothing wrong with being weird, I have found that maintaining such a limited frame of reference can make it really easy to overlook my shortcomings. When I don't notice, or just blatantly ignore my weaknesses because I think it's not impacting anyone else, I am losing opportunities for growth and becoming stagnant. I need to interact with others, and do so with an open mind. Without the opportunity to see how others work, I may miss out on a better way to do things. Without seeing what other people eat, I may miss some delicious foods. Without listening to, and truly hearing, the opinions and ideas of others, I will almost certainly end up with an extremely limited perspective on life, and will miss the joy that comes from increasing in wisdom and understanding. And without watching how others serve and worship and keep their covenants, I will certainly miss out on ways to improve my relationship with my Saviour and better see how I can reach my potential as a daughter of God. But even as I expand my frame of reference for "normal", I'm sure there are some quirks I will hold onto. Not because I necessarily like to be quirky (although sometimes it's fun), but because I just like to be me. And becoming perfect does not mean becoming just like everyone else.
