[Image credit: astrangegirl]
We’re all well aware of the roles every single girl plays. There are those as plain as day: the lone diner. The lone grocery shopper. The lone…ok, she’s basically really good at being alone.
But then there are the tidbits of the roles she plays that people don’t talk about. Like having to amp up her creativity, and considering total and complete abstinence from alcohol. And anything and everything involved with that three-letter word she can’t say in front of her dad but which is so omnipresent in daily life.
What I wish someone would’ve told me earlier is that the difficulties of singledom are all physically taxing. Things I shoulda done push-ups for. Behold the roles the single girl performs:
The single girl is always on the prowl, and after a while, she realizes she needs to be more creative than her coupled-up friends. Sure, she can date online, which I’ve personally grown tired of because a bad online date is really just a bad job interview in disguise (see earlier post). So, she’s gotta get good at nailing the in-person snag-and-grab.
Many times, when women approach men without a specific reason, they end up scaring them off or seeming too desperate (AAHH! Needy woman! Sound the alarm!) Single girls have to find a solid conversation starter; use idiosyncrasies to their advantage. This Easter weekend, my friend was gracious enough to lend me a pair of bunny ears, and in the name of festivity and singledom, I wore them out to the bar. Several cute men approached me – many more than usual – with nuanced versions of “you’re a cute bunny,” to which I replied an opaquely air-headed “hehehe, thanks.” I copped a phone number and hopped away.
Energy I could spend working out or kickin’ it with family is instead channeled towards weaving the next guy web, and boy, does it get exhausting. One day, I assure you, ima run out of animal ears.
The single girl doesn’t have a boyfriend. She has a bottle. Singles tend to drink shamelessly because if we find ourselves too sober and concurrently in the company of couples galore, we reflect on just how unlovable we really are and cry our overpriced mascara off. We can’t afford to do the latter; we’re already broke on account of having to pay for fancy dinners ourselves. Enter: the bottle.
With the inhalation of one too many whiskey-gingers comes the inevitable loss of something valuable. This infamous Easter weekend, I drunkenly flung a silver ring I’ve been wearing since I was 13 onto the obscure black hole that is the floor of a taxi cab. There I was: sloppy, single, heirloom-less. I sighed, let the Bangladeshi taxi driver console me with kind words, and leveraged my sadness to indulge in a bottle of wine from the male friend I – er, my bunny ears – had made.
A Soul Without A Body
The Veronicas said it best: “I feel so untouched…”. This hallmark of singledom is quite possibly swept under the rug the most: sex, or lack thereof. Perpetual singles, I know, and I’m sorry. To answer your question, no, it’s not normal to go interminably long without being touched, hugged, held in a special way. Part of being human is to connect on a deep physical level vis-à-vis other humans with whom we’ve become emotionally entangled, and if such connection disappears from our lives in the form of complete omission, we become but one half of ourselves. Souls without bodies. We have three options: we can either
a) wait until the next relationship to engage physically – all the while leading long stretches of dry, sexless life – and become aggrieved shells of our former selves
b) cowabunga with a new guy each time the urge calls (hey, why not? you’re only young and beautiful once)
c) have meaningless sex with a f*ck buddy (at least this one’s environmentally sound? ie. reusing and recycling)
Unfortunately, all of these options are less than ideal. The truth is, there ain’t nothin’ like sex when you’re in love, so we just have to hum along ’till the really good stuff.
Ok, it’s tough as hell for a single girl. But despite the sucky roles we’ve mastered, there’s also freedom. And adventure. And stories and transformation and beauty in the muck.
You know the best part of the worst parts of being single? They test the bounds of the human spirit. It takes a true fighter to endure the emotional strength a single girl must sometimes endure. And though she may not be indubitably reminded of it, her strength is tunneling a path not only to the guy of her dreams, but to the woman she was destined to become.