Dr. Shahar Madjar

Are you tired of looking for Mr. Right? Being alone no longer means being lonely. Increasing number of women (and a few men too) abandon loneliness. Instead, they choose solitude. To celebrate the occasion they marry themselves. And marrying yourself has a name now–it is called sologamy.

What a celebration sologamy is. A celebration of freedom, independence, self-respect and, most of all, self-love. But also a celebration similar to that practiced in a traditional relationship. First, you have to propose. You should be dramatic–kneel down, and ask yourself, Will you marry me? Then, you have to accept, and why wouldn’t you? After all, you love yourself and are destined to live with you for the rest of your life. Besides, would you propose in the first place, if you knew you would refuse?

An engagement ring follows. A guest list. Wedding invitations. A wedding cake. A photographer. A band. A master of ceremony. You got the idea: It is like a wedding. No, it is a wedding.

Japanese women are especially sologamy-enthusiastic. According to News From Elsewhere, on BBC.com, a travel agency in Kyoto, Japan, is offering a two-day “solo-wedding” package that includes “choosing your own special gown, bouquet and hairstyle, a limousine service, a stay at a hotel and a commemorative photo album.”

Grace Gelder, a London-based portrait photographer, also found the right person she knew all her life–herself. According to the Guardian, Gelder’s parents were open-minded to the idea and her grandma said: “Oh, you always think of something new, Grace.” Some acquaintances felt that the idea was a bit narcissistic. She proposed to herself while sitting on a park bench on Parliament Hill. She decided a wedding ceremony will make the agreement, with herself, stick. At the ceremony, Gelder says, “I was met by what felt like a sea of beaming faces.” Her sister was the only family member who attended, although Gelder’s mother and father sent supporting text messages. There was a ring and a vintage wedding dress, and a close friend who served as a celebrant. In a picture taken at the event, I saw a crowd of young people waving a sea of hands, extending their arms toward Gelder in an expression of happiness and love, their faces lit with wide smiles.

Is Gelder’s sologamy a commitment for life? “And just because I married myself,” Grace Gelder said, “it doesn’t mean that I’m not open to the idea of sharing a wedding with someone else one day.” On her website, Grace Gelder quotes Oscar Wilde: “To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.”

As I approach the end of this series of articles I call Relationships by the Numbers–monogamy (n=1), serial monogamy (n>1, sequential), cheating and consensual non-monogamy (n>1, concurrent), and finally sologamy (n=0) — the time has come for reflection:

Isn’t a relationship, I ask myself, any relationship, merely a solution to a problem? To stay alone is lonesome, and for the problem of loneliness, the social script prescribes a relationship. “Take monogamy, twice a day,” I hear an imaginary doctor tells a patient, “one in the morning before you go to work, and one in the evening when you come back home, and never stop, for the rest of your life.” But monogamy, which looks, at the beginning, like a good solution to an existential problem, may create other problems: even if taken with a spoonful of sugar, monogamy doesn’t work for everyone, and side effects may include: boredom, dissatisfaction, disappointment, self-pity, and short bursts of anger. Some users may experience feelings of being ignored, even unloved. Others sit in the corner and cry.

Searching for a solution to the side effects of monogamy, some lonely hearts stumble upon a relationship with another person, or persons. This comes with initial elation, sense of adventure, it may even satisfy carnal and emotional needs, but if the new relationship is kept a secret, a consuming guilt may develop on one side and a sense of betrayal on the other; and if the information is shared (or discovered), anger and pain will invariably ensue. A seemingly good solution creates a new problem. And the solution to the new problem? Yet another relationship?

In my mind, I see sailors in search of an island of love. I ask myself: isn’t love a particular story we are persuaded to believe in–a princess in the tall tower waiting for her rescue; a princess kissing a frog; a happily ever-after life? But in the stories I read, to each sailor his own boat, to each her own sails. Every sailor is an experiment of nature, and each relationship is a mathematically unique combination. ‘Sail along the river,’ the sailors are told, ‘and don’t stray.’ But she meets waves, high and ominous. He draws into deep, turbulent water. On their way down the river, mysterious blue caves along the shore will seem inviting, and narrow, serpentine tributaries will whisper for them to come and taste the water. With each turn of the plot–a discovery of self and other–the sailors will draw closer to safe land and find a cure for their loneliness. Or not.

Editor’s note: Dr. Shahar Madjar is a urologist at Aspirus and the author of “Is Life Too Long? Essays about Life, Death and Other Trivial Matters.” Contact him at smadjar@yahoo.com.