How are you still single? Just be patient. Are you putting yourself out there? And other things we (singles) kindly request you stop saying to us!
On February 12th, approximately six weeks after being dumped — for those of you quick at math, yes it was Christmas, yes it was awful, yes I’ll tell you all about it one day — I declared that I was off the market once again and embarked on (what I thought would only be) a three-month adventure of dating myself. This was met with some, “Congratulations we’re happy for the two(?) of you” and a lot of …
“So you’re just going to be single forever?”
Forever?! Do you have a crystal ball? You have seen my end and it comes so soon? Within the next three months to be exact. And, wait a second, you think I should spend my last ninety days on this planet seeking my mate? I have a whole list of things to do, places to see, people to hug. I don’t have time to date!
This is just one of the many things we singles really need you to stop saying to us. Here are a few others…
“There are plenty of fish in the sea.”
How are there any fish left in the sea? I see the fish. They’ve all been caught, photographed, and shown off on men’s Tinder profiles. I know I’ve made this joke before and I will continue to because it continues to perplex me (and every other woman who’s ever been on a dating app).
“He’s just around the corner.”
I pass many corners. I walk by them all the time. Which corner? Be specific. Can you drop a pin? Direct me there. I’ll probably go. I’ll pair this with, every whatever has its lid. Have you seen 98% of people’s Tupperware cabinets? Lids run away. When they do we scrape by, cursing their nonexistence, packing leftovers in mismatched containers. My lid is spilling lunch all over his second marriage. I’ll catch him on his third.
Or maybe, I’m a lid? And one day me and all the other nomad lids will meet on a beach somewhere and start a lid commune where we will live happily ever after free from the rigidity of answering to our bottom halves.
“You should pick up a new hobby. How about tennis? That’s a good sport to meet people.”
Firstly, I have a million hobbies. I probably need to drop a few. I’m always trying new things. In fact, just last week I took my first singing lesson. I have lots of extra time while not dating. And no, for those wondering, I won’t be quitting any of my many day jobs nor am I the next Adele. Thanks for the confidence that this could’ve been a possibility though. Means a lot.
Secondly, I hate tennis. I don’t like running and I have the coordination of a fruit fly. “Just try it anyway, you don’t know who you’ll meet?” But what if I do meet him there? Now I’m stuck playing tennis for the rest of my life? With my partner who thinks I find it fun? Which also means he can’t tell when I’m faking it, and that’s going to cause a few off the court issues. 20 — no thanks — love.
“Be patient.”
I’m thirty-seven years old. (with twenty-four-year-old ovaries — my new claim to fame, how do I know this? Because I played a Kardashian on my own version keeping up that was never filmed … you can read more about it here). I am consistently reminded by my mother that she had three children by my age. I am also consistently reminded that the majority of my peers are too married with multiple children at this age. Thanks, Instagram! So why am I the chosen patient one? Have you met me? I drop hobbies quicker than a toddler, but this I should patiently stick with?!
“You’ve just gotta put yourself out there.”
I have frequented several dating apps at a time. I shamelessly talk to absolutely anyone out in the wild. I’ve had more one-nighters than I can count. I engage in multiple hobbies (that aren’t tennis). I have gone speed dating, networking, single event’ing, meet-up’ing. I have been set up by friends, family, colleagues. I have inappropriately blurred lines with prospective and past clients (with consent! Don’t cancel me — I’m too new). I am always open to new friendships. Just short of walking around with a sign that says, “I’m single!” followed by asking strangers if they would swipe right, I have been out there. There is no further out there for me to go.
“How are you still single?”
This is often followed up with, “you’re too pretty, cool, funny, smart (actually I’m probably single because I’m funny and I’m funny because I’m smart and I have a whole whine about this coming soon) to be single.” You’ve just complimented me but then put the blame on me for being single. As if single is the worst thing someone can be.
Plus, if I were uglier and dumber, would I not deserve love? I think we all deserve love. Speaking of love ….
“You have to love yourself first.”
I know many people who love themselves and are single and I know a lot of people in relationships that don’t love themselves (trust me I’ve dated some of them!).
Basically, what you’re telling me is that because I’m pretty I should spend my last days playing a sport I despise by the sea where a fish will unexpectedly jump out at me when I turn the corner? Sounds terrifying!
You know what we need to hear instead, “Feel free to use me as an emergency contact.” Trust me, we are doing just fine. We don’t need your pity we need a ride home from the optometrist. You can also send flowers. I love flowers.
“Just don’t give up. Keep looking.”
Give up on what? The uneasiness of feeling like I constantly have to be on the lookout? I have stopped looking. I know, this is when you tell me he’s coming. But I don’t care. I don’t want him to. Over the past two years I have been in a situationship, single and actively looking, in a relationship, and my current state — single and not looking. The happiest? The past four months.
I have done the opposite of giving up. I’ve given in. To what I really want. A committed relationship with myself. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll go poly.
Until next week Whino’s … Stay true to your word and keep your word true to you.
From my heart to yours,
Xx Dani
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