The Single Friend Pt. 2
I said “I’ve never been in a serious relationship” aloud for the first time last week. Proof that I’ve shed enough of the shame to say that no one has chosen me in the way.
I was subconsciously reminding myself that my life had been enriched by a host of experiences. I matched my jealousy with a new perspective.
Sure, I’d never been in a relationship. Yet, there are plenty of people who’ve been in relationships who haven’t left the country, haven’t experienced sisterhood, or are ignorant of the freedom of solo joy. My new adoption wasn’t a means to put others down but an acknowledgment that our paths of experiences are 1 of 1.
When listening to podcast episodes, storytimes, or anything involving the horrors of modern dating, I thank God that I come home to a pillowy duvet and a Kindle library of thrillers, fantasy, and romance.
There’s a reason why Gen Z has coined statements like “It’s piss in the dating pool”. I remind my friends in flourishing relationships that an overflow of options is an illusion. My dating struggles only scratch the surface. It gets messy, ugly, and outright dangerous these days. Between being tied through shared trauma to endless situationships, to women being shot for mere rejection of a man.
And then you have conversations like 50/50 and Coffegate. I’m begging people to spend more time talking to the ones they’re pursuing and less to strangers on the internet.
If you want a comedic digest of my frustrations with these conversations, check out this post on my other publication, Miss Twenty Something.
By all means, I know between the lines of chaos there’s genuine, heartfelt love. I’ve seen it, but it seems so scarce.
I see the way toxicity, guised as love, has consumed my peers. Young adults appear to be in a cycle of agony with their chosen partners to the point where I question where bliss exists.
Which is why I’ve shifted my focus to speaking it to myself. 2 years, no suitors, and now it finally feels like I’m ready to regrab the reins. I’ve been at a halt, stalled, and taking in the view.
There was a time when I wasn’t choosing singleness; I was letting it happen, quite miserably. In a space where I would’ve partnered up, even knowing that the life I was signing up for was a life I would’ve hated.
I said “I’ve never been in a serious relationship” aloud for the first time last week. To no one but myself, still, it was evidence of how far I’ve come. Proof that I’ve shed enough of the shame to say that no one has chosen me in the way.
It’s a heavy confession, although not wildly uncommon. It felt like a scarlet A. Like a magnifying glass and invitation to examine how I may be defected.
Social media places demonstrations of love (even if fraudulent) on a pedestal. Ironically, when people admit to the facade, viewers are just as eager to tear them down for disrupting the fantasy.
Imagine what it’s like to view when you’ve never come close to it. When real or fake, it’s never been your reality. Over time, we’ve made more room for the successes that reveal one’s intelligence, determination, and even bravery. Still, nothing sparks conversations like grand gestures and cheating scandals.
Us chronically single friends don’t hate love. We love to see others love and be loved. We love to love, especially when it feels safe enough to be requited. That still doesn’t erase the feeling of being ostracized in a world of people who ignite romance between class periods, after school dances, and in the midst of not knowing better.
Until recently, my fear of it never coming distracted me from any upside of my circumstances. And then one day I asked myself…
Since you think that you’re being punished by never being coupled, what are some things that you’ve done that people who can claim to have been in love haven’t?
I was subconsciously reminding myself that my life had been enriched by a host of experiences. I matched my jealousy with a new perspective.
Sure, I’d never been in a relationship. Yet, there are plenty of people who’ve been in relationships who haven’t left the country, haven’t experienced sisterhood, or are ignorant of the freedom of solo joy. My new adoption wasn’t a means to put others down but an acknowledgment that our paths of experiences are 1 of 1.
I hope it’s clear that I’m not trying to look at what I’ve done and you haven’t. But I want you to see how you can reframe your thoughts to arrive back at the idea that we’re on our own journey. That unique timelines are what create the beautiful intersection of people and how we can learn from each other.
When I look over the time I’ve spent choosing singleness, what I’m most appreciative of is getting to transition into adulthood with my needs and desires at the forefront. Instead of making choices while silently considering how that may affect my man, I got the privilege of being selfish. I set a standard of putting myself first, after years of people-pleasing.
In conversations, I’ve gotten plenty of feedback that all centers around that same idea. It seems like you have a lot of time to pour into yourself. I do! Even with all the passions strung to my heart, I still have time to just be. Ultimately, the results are more self-centered pleasure, and I’m recognizing the privilege in such freedom.
Am I interested in lifelong singleness? No. I’ve always known partnership was in the cards for me. What will be a constant is asking myself what we need before considering how that may affect a significant other. Because, while significant, I refuse to let my world revolve around you.
It’s a choice. You have been single by choice. Whether driven by your subconscious or not.
dating is a lot of mental exercise and mind games right now and it’s so
exhausting