The “S” word

sin·gle
sin·gle
/siNGɡəl/
adjective

: not having or including another : only one

: not married or not having a serious romantic relationship with someone

—used for emphasis after words like any, each, every, etc.

I’ve been single for about three years. Four, if you count the last year of my tumultuous, downward-spiraling, prior relationship. It has been quite the transformative three years; years in which I have done a fair amount of changing, and growing, and thinking about what I would like out of my life.

And right now, I would like to no longer be single.

There I said it. Feel free to judge me.

Because I’m not saying this because I have some imaginary void I must fill. I don’t say this because I want someone to dote on me. I don’t say this because my life is not fulfilling enough. At the moment I have the love of family, friends, and a career focus like never before.

So why am I yet again bitching about the “single life?”

Because I am tired of people telling me that I will “find love when I least expect it.”

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Even worse are the people who ask me, “why don’t you just focus on your career instead of a relationship.”

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What do you think I’m doing out here in New York City?! If I HONESTLY didn’t care about my career and just wanted to get married, I sure as HELL wouldn’t be searching for love in THIS city.

Which just happens to be the 7th layer of Hell when it comes to dating.

And all my single people, who are completely career-driven and would also like a significant other (although they may not vocalize it,) please:

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One of my favorite lines is when people say to me, “Oh but you’re SO YOUNG!”

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Because there are PLENTY of people who have found love in their 20s. And it’s not like I’m 22 and fresh out of college. I’m 27. My mother was married at my age. I have plenty of friends who got married in their early and mid 20s and know lots of people who are in happy, healthy, functioning relationships.

I know who I am at this point in my life. I by no means have all of the answers, or even half of them. However, I do know what direction my life is going, and I’ve dated enough men to know what I do and do not like.

I’ve signed up for, and deleted about four different online dating sites. I’ve even deleted profiles on certain sites, just to make a new one (having to answer the same stupid questions about life), on the very same site.

And every time I get the same, tired message from the same stereotypical “dude looking for minimal commitment,” I think to myself…

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Even when I do get a somewhat normal guy messaging me online, they tend to ask the question, “so why did you decide to join XX site?”

To which I typically think,

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Because I could give a MILLION answers.

I’m tired of going to bars to meet men.

I haven’t had an actual date that wasn’t at a bar in two years.

I’m convinced that someone in the city is looking for more than just “casual dating.”

I’m afraid that once I’m 30, all the good ones will be scooped up.

And then I will go ahead and delete or deactivate these accounts because sometimes,

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And then there are the nights I decide to go out. I’ll do my hair, my makeup, and put on an outfit that completely exemplefies who I am as a human being.

Looking like..

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And maybe… JUST maybe, I’ll meet a great guy. Or at least someone I feel like connects with me. We’ll share drinks, exchange numbers. Everything seems great.

There will be a few days of back and forth texting, possibly a first “date,” which usually includes going to some stupid bar where he can talk about himself, and say things to woo me like, “I’ve never met anyone like you before,” or “I’m really tired of just messing around, I’m looking to date someone.”

Save it.

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Because the NEXT time I text you, I will receive nonchalant, one-word answers. I’ll usually change your name from “Steve” in my phone to “DO NO TEXT” or “STOP CONTACTING HIM HE CLEARLY DOES NOT LIKE YOU” or “KNOW YOUR WORTH, SHANNON.”

Then I become weak and send that one, little text, simply to put a feeler out into the universe and see if you reciprocate.

But alas, I am nothing but a distraction to a 20-something, commitment-phobe, who I had one, single, solitary good time with and then POOF!

A

Perhaps that description of the men I typically date (“date” being the operative word here) is a bit harsh.

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I simply cannot judge a man too harshly for not wanting to create a further bond with me.

Perhaps it’s me. Perhaps it’s my generation. Perhaps I really, truly am looking for love in all the wrong places.

But riddle me this: Where does a late 20-something woman, whose best friends are primarily gay, works in the acting/music world meet someone, if not at a bar or online?

A park? The gym? A fucking book club????

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Exactly. No one seems to have this answer.  So to all you, “You’ll find him when it’s time,” and you’re so young!” and “just focus on your career,” people, I say:

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So I have just surrendered. No more dating sites. No more going out with the intention of meeting someone.

I’ll just stay in, drink wine, and write in my journal.

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But…

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I’ll probably always be a hopeless romantic.

xoxo

Shan Babe

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