Being Alone

I’ve been single for seven months now. That might not seem like a lot and I agree, it’s not a lot. But for me, it’s definitely something to celebrate. I remember when I was eighteen and I had never really had a real boyfriend. Shit, I don’t think I had even kissed a guy yet. And I was not sad about it in the least (the not having a boyfriend part, I was super self conscious about not having kissed a boy). A boyfriend had seemed like the last thing I wanted at that point in my life. I thought that I would date a guy and it would be so boring. We would just get bored of each other. So, because of that, I was just super content on going on dates but never actually having it turn into anything more.

Throughout these past couple of years, I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve looked back on that eighteen year old mindset and I was so damn envious of myself at that age. Because, for the past four years, I’ve bounced from boyfriend to boyfriend and I’ve absolutely hated it. It definitely had something to do with my self esteem (or lack thereof). I’ve briefly mentioned it in some blog posts (here), but I’ve really struggled with the friendships in my life throughout university. I was friends with a group of guys and girls and it was (and still is) one of the most toxic things I have ever experienced in my life. It’s such a confusing thing when you’re surrounded constantly by these people you think are your friends but then you feel so damn alone. I had these eight friends and yet I didn’t feel like I could actually talk to a single one of them. It was really hard. I felt like I was living a lie. On the outside, my life looked great. I wa doing all these fun things and everything looked happy and silly and exciting. And yet, on the inside, I couldn’t have been more miserable. But it didn’t all really fall apart until a guy in that group of friends broke up with me. If I didn’t think I had anyone to talk to before, now I really didn’t have anyone to talk to. And so, because I now had nothing really tying me to that group of friends, I left. It was one of the hardest things I ever did but it was also a choice I knew I had to make. It was a gradual drift. I unfollowed some of them on Instagram, I stopped replying in group messages, I rarely showed up to their parties. Slowly, but surely, I was forgotten from that group. And suddenly, that was that. I had no real friends.

I knew I had to start fresh but I think I did it in the wrong way. Actually, I know I did it in the wrong way. I wouldn’t be writing this post if I didn’t. What I needed to do was find myself a really good group of friends that would have my back for years and years to come. But instead, I fell back on guys. I started going on dates. A lot of Tinder dates. Solely Tinder dates. I craved the attention of guys who I could pretend were my best friends. Who I could push all of my problems on and expect them to fix everything. So I did just that. I would go on a first date and I would ignore all the red flags. If we didn’t click, if I didn’t feel that spark, who cared. I would go on a second date. And a third date. And a fourth. Until we were dating. Until we were boyfriend and girlfriend. I just so desperately wanted a boyfriend, someone on my side, someone to hang out with, that I didn’t date someone because I thought they were the person for me. I dated them to just date somebody. I know that sounds bad and typing this all out, I would never do that consciously. But it was something I didn’t understand at the time. I just figured I liked them. I didn’t hear the part of me that was telling me I didn’t.

And inevitably, none of these relationships worked out. Because I didn’t actually like them. So whether it was me pushing them away or them pushing me away, they all crumbled apart. But what did I do after every single breakup? I hopped back on Tinder and I was probably going on dates mere days after. And the cycle started again. So, that was why I haven’t been single for more than a month in four years. That’s bad. That’s really, really bad. I know that. There was so many times that I told myself that I was going to stay single. But my loneliness took over. It gripped me by my shoulders and made me feel the lowest I’ve ever felt. Going on dates was the only thing that made me feel even close to whole again.

It was a constant rebound from my lack of friends, not a rebound from heartbreak. It took me so long to realize that. It wasn’t love that I needed. It was friends.

But, in February of 2019, it all changed. I woke up one day and I realized that I could do this. I could be single. I could break up with my boyfriend and live a happy life. And so, that’s what I did. And guess what? I am the happiest I have EVER been. It feels like such a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. That loneliness that was gripping me by my shoulders? It’s gone. I now have some of the best friends in the world. They are amazing and they are everything I’ve ever wanted. I have an amazing job (and a part time job and this blogging job) that keeps me busy. I have the world’s best dog (and the rest of my family is pretty great too). Life is great. It’s never been better. Don’t get me wrong, I still get those brief moments of sadness where I feel my heart constrict and like I can’t breathe. But those moments are fleeting. All it takes is to remember that I have friends who I can talk to and it’s okay again. And one thing is for sure, I would never trade these friends for a boyfriend and that’s how I know I am perfectly content being single.

So now I’m going on dates. Not just for the sake of wanting a boyfriend. But because I want to explore and see who’s out there and one day find the man I’m going to marry. But now, if I don’t like the guy or I don’t feel a connection, I don’t push it. I don’t date them for the sake of dating a person. I don’t date them to fill that void. I just let them go. And it feels good. It feels really damn good.