Here’s a confession for you: I’m in my (very) late 20s… And I’ve never dated. I’ve never been on a date. I’ve never been in a relationship. Those of you who know me are probably like, ‘well colour me shocked!’
I wish that I had some stories to share about my past experiences in love and heartbreak. To have them be funny, charming and full of bittersweet wisdom. But the truth is, I only have enough experience to make a few scribbles. The rest is still a blank chapter that’s yet to be filled.
I’ve been witness to friends and family members who have found love in their teens and 20s; they are either married, or very soon will be. If they don’t have a boyfriend/girlfriend yet, they probably will have one soon.
And then, there’s me: The perma-single. Forever the third wheel, forever showing up to family functions with no partner to smugly introduce. So single, in fact, that no one even bothers asking me if I’m seeing anyone. (I should probably be relieved.)
I should note that being single doesn’t necessarily bother me. I’ve been on my own for a good quarter of a century, and I’ve gotten this far without a SO just fine. I like that I have this time to learn about myself and to do the things I enjoy most, without compromising.
That being said, when you get this far with nothing more than a peck on the cheek*, and you see everyone paired up and happy (for the most part), you feel as though you’ve been missing out on something special. (That, and the romantic notions you were raised on as a kid have failed you.)
I could easily justify this based on my personality: at first glance I’m somewhat reserved, quiet, and not always willing to make the first move. (i.e.: A cute guy looks my way, and I…. turn to mush.) It’s followed me thorough high school, and despite having grown up since then, somewhere inside me that shy high school version of myself still lingers.
Putting oneself out there is tough; especially in this day and age, when everything is generally done through a screen; it’s only made worse when you are made to post appealing pictures of yourself and have to come up with cutesy/witty bios.
Which brings me to the online dating/phone dating apps: Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge, to name a few. I’ve never tried Hinge. Tinder I find trashy. As for Bumble, that’s where the woman gets to make the first move. It is filled with beautiful (and at times, shirtless) fellows who tend to write the same descriptions in their bios. I could dedicate a whole post to guys I come across on Bumble: ‘spider killer’. ‘Entrepreneur’. ‘Looking for the one.’ ‘Sports, travel and beer.’ And my favourite–‘Baby in the photo is my niece/nephew’. Phew, for a second I thought it was actually yours!
I have a love-hate relationship with Bumble. You swipe right, send out a friendly ‘hey!’ and if you’re lucky, you’ll get a response. When I don’t get responses after a few tries, that’s when I’m ready to throw in the towel. F*** this! This is app is stupid! I think. And then, no sooner than I delete it from my phone, I start to think, maybe I should give it another go? Ugh.
But really, I think it comes down to a matter of being in the right place and the right time. And right now–in my mind, at least–the timing still isn’t… Right. There are things I still need to sort out, both personally and externally, and those things have to be done on my own. That’s where my special ‘Saturn Return’ might come in handy!
Would I like to meet someone? Definitely. Will it happen through a dating app? I kind of hope not, but if it happens to work out, then I’ll be damned. Whatever the results may be, I trust that the Universe knows what its doing, and has my back.
In the words of Forrest Gump, “I don’t know if we have a destiny, or if we’re all just floatin’ around accidental-like on a breeze, but I think maybe it’s both. Maybe both is happenin’ at the same time.”
Having a limited dating/relationship experience should not make anyone feel less than adequate, and that’s why I chose to write about my own experience–or the lack of it!
And that’s all I got to say bout’ that.
*That peck on the cheek was a special something from an Italian boy I met for about five seconds while on a school trip in Italy. I was sixteen, and he wasn’t even that cute, but it MADE MY LIFE.