It's like Sex and the Suburbs and 30 Rock all rolled into one…
As many of you know, I’m single. You know this because you have, in some way, met me or know of me. My blog readership is primarily people who know me through various social connections. I’m not that big just jet. (Although if I keep eating fruit snacks I might be. Get it? Oh yeah.) And if you’re part of my close circle of friends, then you know pretty much why I’m single. I’d like to sat it’s because I put little to no effort into finding my match, but that would be a lie and at the onset of this blogging experiment I promised to be honest with myself and therefore you. Certainly identities are redacted for privacy, and embarrassing details about others are usually left out. No one wants to read about how they passed out drunk or said hurtful things they won’t remember after sobering up. But to be honest the reason I’ve been single for three years is because I needed to learn how to trust.
Yeah, it’s easy to say that trust is essential in any relationship but it’s a lot harder to do it. Especially after dating Scum of the Earth Pt 1 and Scum of the Earth Pt 2 – one was emotionally abusive and the other was just clueless on how to relate to humans. But what made it the hardest to trust was getting burned by people I loved and trusted. One cheated on me. The other, through an inability to communicate effectively, never really defined our relationship and floated between me and someone else. It took awhile to work through the angry feelings and a longer time to open up emotionally. And yes, it’s something I am still working on. To this day my first instinct isn’t to listen and support; it’s to debate and discuss and label and clarify. I have a lot of experience being a woman scorned. It seems my early twenties were defined by it.
In all honesty those relationships didn’t work because I wasn’t really me, I wasn’t finished becoming who I am. I didn’t know what I wanted, and I wasn’t comfortable enough in my own skin to try to get what was good for me. To use the Joss Wheddon analogy, I was still in the oven becoming wonderful chocolate chip cookie goodness. I was baking, percolating, maturing. (And again, to be honest, I still am. I’ve figured out a lot and now I’m learning how to live with what I know. It’s a process.) I didn’t put my foot down at the right time and I didn’t compromise when necessary.
I get into relationships much like Josh on The West Wing did – I fumble into an arrangement with someone, crash into seeing them and hope that they don’t want to end up parting ways because I never did learn the subtle ways relationships work. Oh, I can give great relationship advice but I can’t figure out how to simply be with someone. I debate when I should agree to disagree, and I put my job first. As such I tend to be attracted to workaholics, because I like people who get me, and even when I’m not at work, I’m working on something. I tend to pick the guy who is unobtainable. He’s usually a great person, but he’s usually also soon to be physically absent. And while I want to say I’ve made long distance relationships last and work, it wasn’t easy to do so and it’s debatable on how well it went.
It’s because, for the longest time, I wasn’t ready to try and give up a little of who I am. Relationships are about compromise, and sometimes that compromise is holding back your natural tendencies. It’s giving up what makes you happy to ensure the happiness of another. And for the longest time, I just wasn’t ready to do that. So much of my younger dating days was compromising myself to make my partner happy that I needed some time to figure out how to do it right, how to hold back and still remain true to one’s self.
I’m single, not because Albany has a poor male-female ration or because the men here are either taken or so fundamentally broken they are irredeemable, but because of me.