I’ve pretty much given up on love, primarily because men kept treating me like crap. I’m not happy about it, and I’m vocal about my experience. People often ask me why I complain about rolling solo because apparently being on my own is such a great thing but f*ck that. Being single sucks, and I’m not afraid to admit it.
- I’m sick of being expected to look happy while people pity me. I’m sorry but I’m not doing this hypocrisy. On one hand, people tell me it’s great to be single and, on the other hand, people give my pitying looks snd pep talks. I’m not down for this charade — I’m not going to pretend I’m happy when everyone knows I’m not.
- Hiding the way I feel is like trying to hide the elephant in the room. There’s a problem with the dating scene — a big one — and I’m not going to sit there and ignore it. I’m not going to smile and say that everything is fine with guys, because it’s not. By turning a blind eye, we’re basically allowing men’s behavior to stay that way.
- I want guys to see the damage they’ve done to me. A big part of me wants to see if any of them show any remorse whatsoever for the way they treated me. I mean, at this point, I don’t believe any man will actually do right by me, but could they at least show genuine, tear-filled remorse? Part of me feels like if I show them how much they hurt me, I might get to see them feel bad. It’s messed up, I know, but I want the guilt to eat at them.
- I feel cheated out of the happy marriage I should have had, and I often wonder if others feel the same. I sometimes wonder if I openly admit how I feel, if others would reach out to me and say they feel the same way. Perhaps the loneliest thing about being single after 25 is the fact that you have to admit pain to get the camraderie you want.
- There’s no real point in hiding it, anyway. What’s the point? I’ve already given up on finding a guy, so why should I try to put up a facade in hopes that a Mr. Right will come along? I’m not going to lie and say I’m happy just to please others, either. For once, people should try to make me smile instead.
- To a point, it’s also me refusing to act as if I’ve failed in some way. Society makes single women feel like failures, and most of the time, we didn’t fail anyone. Society, and men, have failed us. I honestly do feel like a victim of a crappy dating scene, and crappy, self-entitled men. If I failed, I’d be embarrassed. I’m not embarrassed to admit I was a victim of men’s terrible attitudes and behavior.
- If I don’t hide it, people will avoid hitting my sore spots. One thing I’ve learned is that people who don’t want to have problems will learn not to talk about things that hurt other people’s feelings. My love life has been a source of pain as long as I can remember. By making a point of telling people I’m unhappy about it, I’m telling them to not talk about how great their husbands/boyfriends are.
- I’ve already mastered the look of “Don’t You Dare Tell Me What To Change,” so people know better than to give me advice. Ever notice how other people always need to tell you what you need to improve in order to get a man? Yeah, I got real sick of that. In fact, I don’t understand why people even think this is appropriate for discussion. As a result, I’ve perfected my look that basically says if people talk about it anymore, they will have serious problems.
- What I wanted wasn’t much, if you think about it. The only thing I ever wanted was a husband who didn’t abuse me, use me, or neglect me. I’m really not asking for much, and yet, despite how much effort I put in, it just isn’t happening. I’m sorry, but it’s very reasonable to be that upset. People need to stop telling single women that we should be happy alone.
- I feel like it sets the right example for my daughter. I don’t want her to think everyone gets a dream marriage, because, well, they don’t. I don’t want her to think that someone who had a man ditch her after doing everything right is an inadequate or stupid person, either. I wish someone would have told me that earlier.
- I have no qualms about showing my grief because people have a right to show their emotions. Society basically tells us that we should be emotionless robots, because otherwise, we’re women and therefore crazy. I’m not crazy; I’m grieving over a love that will never be. I have a right to show my emotions, just as anyone else does, and no amount of shaming will ever make me stop.
