I'm What?

Found Here

Recently one of my married friends told me she had forgotten what it was like to be single. Then, she asked me to fill her in on the lifestyle. Instinctively, I replied "how should I know?"

The answer should seem obvious, but I was genuinely perplexed by the question. I honestly don't think of myself as a single lady. This is bizarre, because I am one. I have to remind myself of this on a pretty regular basis. Otherwise, I forget to make an effort. I don't forget about dating, or interacting with attractive men. This is not the issue. What I seem to loose track of is the idea that I have to put myself out there (wherever that is).

Most of this comes back to my comfort level. I am comfortable in my social bubble. It's nice and reassuring in here. My friends are cool, and everyone likes me well enough. I know how to be myself in this space. And, more importantly, I like myself in this space. Despite my extreme difficulty with decision making of all kind (seriously, ask my sister what I'm like at meal times), I do pretty well on my own. Sure, I call my parents a lot, but I know how to find my own solutions and I can tackle problems in my social bubble. I can even appreciate my appearance and take myself out on a date (I love a solo dinner and a movie!).

Aside from the satisfaction of essentially being in a relationship with myself, I also forget about trying to date because I've never really had to. I've never needed to advertise my availability. Every relationship that I have been in has sort of just developed, and I honestly think that's how it should be. What little attempt I have made to put myself out there has resulted in an incredible amount of anxiety. There's too much concern about how I should dress, what I should and shouldn't say, when to contact who, and don't even get me started on the paying etiquette!

It's too much effort, and I don't appreciate the neuroticism that develops from presenting myself for judgment by a virtual stranger. I'm not perfect, but who is? I'm comfortable with who I am. Why should I care what some random dude thinks? I'm not a salesperson, and I don't care to pitch my positive traits while hiding my flaws. In fact, I'm equally embarrassed by and proud of my imperfections. They are the amusing ingredients to the recipe that is me. That's why, I'll openly share them with anyone who cares to hear (and some who don't).

However, I realize the paradox in my situation. Finding an eventual partner seems nearly impossible when I consider that all of the above results in my forgetting that I'm single.