Tag Archives: Lifestyle

This is not the time to ask a woman why she is still single

It’s Valentine’s Day.

With the exception of family Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners, Valentine’s Day seems to be the most popular time to ask a woman with no significant other why she is still single.

Let me preface this by saying I’m a millennial woman. I get a kick out of self-deprecating memes about being single and drinking too much and laugh at things solely for the purpose of not crying over them instead. I myself have joked when people ask me why I’m still single that the fruit just isn’t worth the squeeze or I’ll remind them that I’ve been called crazy many times in the past by many exes. I usually always laugh and brush it off but as of late I just really want to clear the air to address this, especially for some women who may also be feeling the same way.

We’re in the middle of a global pandemic. We’ve been under a strict lockdown for longer than many of us would like, and we find ourselves completely isolated; not just from the opposite sex but from close friends and family. Couples who have been together for twenty years have had their marriages and relationships fall apart in the last year. In short, these are trying times, and the last thing you want to ask a single woman is why she is still single. This has to be the worst time imaginable to ask a woman a question like this.

For me, personally, as if a global pandemic wasn’t enough to halt dating and cease any efforts to pursue a romantic relationship and risk potentially catching a deadly virus and spreading it to my loved ones, I’ll keep my reason(s) simple. Let’s start with the fact that I am high maintenance.

There’s so much work that goes into my mind, body, and heart, and every day I try to do better. Every day I try to treat myself better. Whether it’s through something as simple as a face mask, an hour spent at the gym, buying myself flowers for the week, cooking myself an extravagant meal, or just taking time to reflect, decompress, and center myself again, there is a lot to unpack and a lot to maintain. Finding a man is not a priority for me. I am high maintenance but I can’t stress enough that I am the one constantly sealing the cracks and I am the one making all the necessary upgrades and repairs. I am the one putting in the work, no one else. I am the one who puts the hours, weeks, months, and years into my growing investment. It used to bother me when people, both men and surprisingly, women, accused me of being high maintenance because they would frame it as a flaw or a red flag. But now when I hear someone say I’m high maintenance, I smile and laugh and take it as a compliment. I’ve reached a point in my life that I care so much about myself that no one has been able to compete with that kind of love and I won’t settle for anything less.

I’m single because for the first time in over a decade I’ve learned to respect myself enough to not just refuse being treated poorly but walking away from people who only agree to put in the bare minimum.

I’m single because I’m not afraid to leave someone who is unsure about me, even if I deeply love them and it pains me to walk away.

I’m single because I refuse to settle because I haven’t found something better yet. I also will not stay with someone who just settles for me. I will not stay in a relationship because it is convenient for either party involved.

I’m single because I’m not actively trying to meet someone. Granted, I don’t expect Michael Fassbender to just show up at my door with a bag of tacos and whisk me off my feet but I’m not going to force anything and believe things fall into place on their own when they’re meant to. I’m not a traditionalist by any means and I’ve heard many dating app success stories but they’re just not for me and I don’t want to waste my time on something that doesn’t bring me joy.

I’m single because I’m not desperate. I’m not on someone else’s timeline. I don’t have a set date or agenda to find someone, get married, have kids, buy a home, etc. I have no one to please and nothing to prove.

I’m single because there’s so much more to life than finding a partner to share moments with. Don’t get me wrong, I was in a relationship for seven years and to this day I cherish the many memories I built with my partner at the time, but since our breakup, I’ve created so many new memories by traveling alone and I wouldn’t trade those for the world. I can’t begin to express how important and illuminating it is to safely travel solo and experience adventures on your own.

I’m single because I spent my twenties being a serial monogamist and never took the time to get to know myself first. Young and naive I would be a sponge and absorb my partners’ likes, dislikes, listen to their favorite bands, hang out with their friends, pick up their hobbies and learn everything I could about them while forgetting about myself.

I’m single because at the end of the day if I grow old and die a spinster because I didn’t find a man to love me as much or more than I love myself, I am perfectly happy and content with that.

So the next time someone is so flabbergasted and tells me I’m too pretty to be single, or wonders how someone who is such a culinary genius in the kitchen has so much trouble finding a man, I might tell them that it’s none of their damn business or I may just send them a link to this article because I’m done having to explain myself any further.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

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Happy New Year, Girl

I had the most productive day yesterday. 

I woke up at 4:30 in the morning completely (and surprisingly) well-rested from a good night’s sleep. At 5:30 am I got the beating of my life at the gym after two weeks off but couldn’t stop humming to “Hurt So Good” by John Mellencamp while catching my breath after my workout, completely doused in sweat. 

I came home, showered, poured myself a cup of green tea and learned Japanese for 15 minutes, courtesy of my recently downloaded Duolingo app. At 9:00 am I headed to the Korean spa for an hour long scrub and oil massage – with a complimentary mini facial I might add. If you’ve never been to a Korean spa, you need to book an appointment and experience this magic at least once in your life. 

I wanted to start off the first full week of January with a fresh start and I couldn’t think of a better way than to literally scrub the remnants of 2019 off my body to reveal a glowing new canvas itching to create a new portrait. 

If you’ve had a body scrub before in a Western spa, then you were likely in your swimwear or bottoms, exposing as much as you were comfortable with, rubbed down with some green tea coffee mix promising to exfoliate your skin, then wrapped up looking like someone’s Thanksgiving leftovers. You poor little snack.

Let me tell you that the Korean spa is a much different experience. You strip down to your birthday suit, hang out in the spa or sauna until your fingers and toes look like raisins, then a tiny Korean woman in black lace underwear (scandalous, right?) and the strength of a bodybuilder (no joke) takes you into a private room where she literally scrubs off your dead skin with nothing but what feels like a sandpaper loofah. If you’re brave enough to look, you’ll notice your arms and legs look like someone freshly grated parmesan cheese on them and wonder how you’ve been carrying around this much dead skin. You feel disgusted yet refreshed at the same time, if you can get over the anxiety that comes with baring it all for a stranger. In recent months, the only other person I’ve been that intimate with is my waxing lady and we’ve been together for over a decade. That woman has seen parts of me that I know none of my ex’s have.

I got sidetracked.

After the Korean spa I went on a grocery run and came home to meal prep for the week. This week’s menu includes Beyond Meat cheeseburgers (I’m not vegan or vegetarian but these are seriously delicious), Alaskan salmon kale and spinach salad, and chicken breast with mixed vegetables. In an effort to really be an overachiever and kick-start this “New Year New Me” bullshit, I even cleared the entire Whole Foods selection of celery juice to start each morning with. 

In the afternoon I headed to the bank then cut a check to pay my entire year’s rent. That’s right; the entire year. I’m really big on saving and try to be smart with my money so if I can avoid one stress this year I will absolutely cut bills off my list. I guess my dream Camaro will have to wait.

Having had a busy but productive day, I closed the evening by reading. I turned off my phone, avoided Netflix, and continued to read “Girl, Wash Your Face,” by Rachel Hollis which I had started on the first of the month. One of my many goals this year was to start reading more so I decided to commit to reading one book a month. It’s not much considering most can put a good book down within a week, but it’s a realistic goal and one that works for me. I used to read obsessively before college but as I took on more classes, accepted internships, and got more and more job offers, I fell out of my passion.

I don’t have any New Year’s resolutions but I certainly have realistic goals that I’ve set for the year that prioritize my health and happiness. Today, I woke up at 4:30 again to go to the gym, sorer than I was yesterday. I must have hit the snooze button 8 times this morning and thought of every reason why I didn’t have to go but then realized that if I didn’t show up I was flaking on myself. Put it into perspective; if you say you’re going to commit to something and decide you’d rather Netflix and order pizza, it’s basically the equivalent of a friend making plans with you and flaking last minute. I’ve been that friend and I’ve had friends flake on me multiple times. It’s the worst. So why flake on yourself? Don’t you deserve better? I think you do. And I do too.

I’m not saying we don’t deserve a rest day every once and awhile. Hell, I’m sitting on the couch as a type this with a glass of wine beside me. And yes, just a glass this time. It is only Tuesday after all. But I’m having that glass of wine knowing I’ve been productive as fuck and I’m only celebrating how good that feels.

So cheers to the New Year and cheers to feeling good. 2019 was an icky year and I finally got sick and tired of feeling so beat down. Looking back on it though, as cliche as it sounds, it really was a blessing, hurting in the same way growing pains do. Hurting in the same way Monday’s squats are feeling right about now. But after the pain comes the muscle and with the muscle comes strength. 

Come at me 2020. For better or worse, this is going to be my year.

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