Common Pitfalls pt .01

So we’re pretty much known to champion our status to the world, as single females; to wear the independence of singledom and womanhood as a badge of honor, earning us the freedom to roam about the globe at the drop of a hat, eat caviar and blinis for dinner, and fiercely live and work in a way that the world feels the weight of who we are.

First off, singles I know rarely brag about being single unless they’re instigating a match-up, some of us feel well-traveled when we hit the beach more than twice a summer, and the only caviar I ever see is the orange kind on top of my sushi, which I believe is called is fish roe. (And Lord knows I don’t even eat that often enough.) And when it comes to our identity, more of us would rather hold off from coming into a full definition of self, leaving wiggle room to conveniently change and sway, let alone allow the world to feel the weight of who we are.

As Christian single females, fewer of us take the time to find who we’re meant to be, and even less effort to attempt to live confidently in that. More often than not, it’s due to a slight preoccupation and the most common pitfall.

It’s common because it’s comfortable.

As single women, we tend to feel we’re not yet fully who we are meant to be until we’re in the right relationship. Sometimes, just a relationship. Yet in this vein, we come to a place in our heads where we qualify our indefinite relationship status with an indefinite sense of self. That exactly who we are is in a waiting game, on hold for someone else to come and bring definition to. As females (dare I say, at the risk of sounding sexist, possibly more than males) we often accept that the core of our values, priorities, and sometimes even career goals, aren’t yet fully established until that someone arrives.

We’re quicker to apply to a school based on a crush attending (anyone remember Ben from J.J. Abram’s Felicity?), quicker to scrap plans with a close friend, if it means even a chance to get within the vicinity of this guy, find ourselves scrolling to discover who they follow on Instagram, and find ourselves easily swayed to change taste in the smallest things, like tv shows. (And if its Game of Thrones, it’s a sore sacrifice.)  Often we’re even so inspired to bend our political preferences accordingly, and possibly even moral convictions to be palatable enough to match someone who may or may not even care for boundaries. We tend to cling to some kind of romantically formulated superstition that we hope will carry us to this guy, and in the midst of being led by this empty notion lose quite a bit of ourselves, not to mention a pathetic amount of time.

Many of us are just hardwired for romance and somehow find something romantic in the idea that someone else holds our true identity - we just have yet to find them. And therefore, have yet to truly discover ourselves. Rather, we wait and waiver those infinite decisions and standards for life based on the next guy that will send our hearts a pitter-patter. (Never mind holding monstrous expectations for that guy.)

Eager for this guy, we have such a natural inclination to alter our values and tastes to cater to whichever guy we currently have our sights set on. As hard as we work to frame it up to the world that we’re boss, and have it all under control, we are remarkably susceptible to shift and change with every new prospect. Granted the modern single female is more empowered to be who she is now than ever. Still, single females seem to fear that having a clear voice and ground rules, as a foundation for their life, will weed out more options for men than you may be comfortable with.

And rest assured - it most definitely will.

But are you more comfortable with coming to fully know who you are, what you believe, and entering the life you’re created for, even if it means sitting in the waiting room longer than most?

Or would you rather comfortably step into a life with a guy, unsure of exactly who you are?

Coming to know who you are and what you stand for in a way that allows the world to feel the weight of yourself is never a breeze. But it just may be the most critical task at hand during this single season.

In Panic mode

Holidays can make people do funny things. Desperate things, maybe.

Then again, major milestones and memory points in life can drive any of us to extreme measures.

Consider singleness somewhat of a milestone, a season in which you don’t plan on sitting too long. Such seasons have the propensity to send one into, what you might call panic mode: a frightful state of being, where one is both fearful of what may (or may not) come all the while equally anxious to escape. (I completely made up that definition, so in case you’re wondering, in technical terms a panic mode is more formally defined as "a very strong feeling of anxiety or fear, which makes you act without thinking carefully.")

Among christian girls, I find the desire to be married a much stronger pursuit than the average, perhaps causing panic to set in a bit earlier than the norm. My freshman year of college I often heard the words ring by Spring, a prayer most females would have, that interpreted meant come Spring semester they’d be engaged. Walking down my freshman dorms, while hearing multiple rooms simultaneously playing A Walk to Remember soundtrack, you would see large posters on doors that said “Intercede for the Rock!” Not as in “The Rock of Ages”, but more like a precious crystalline carbon. A diamond ring. Anyone outside the campus must wonder if the bane of a christian females’ existence is simply to find a man, the man.

My focus during college was mostly invested in music, my major, and play productions every semester. (Yes, theatre geeks were my people.) While seemingly ideal, this concept of ring by spring wasn’t on the forefront of my mind. In fact, the December before my last Senior semester a mom of a friend who was graduating said to me in sympathetic tone, in regards to finding someone, “Well, at least you have one more semester.” Had I not had these other interests I may have gotten hitched, or at least had more of an exciting dating life. But then again, I’ve never viewed dating as much of a hobby. Other girls had more gumption than me in that department, much more likely to approach a guy and flirt their way into a date. Flirting was never really a language I understood, let alone spoke.

Years later, months before turning 30, I’d find myself in such a panic mode. I had been working remotely in Orlando as a grant writer for a non-profit organization based in an impoverished African nation. The director was on site in Africa and my two co-workers in the states were in two different time zones. So I spent most days at my desk in my apartment, drafting and redrafting proposals until I’d get stir crazy enough to wind up at Starbucks. Typically the same Starbucks, same spot. One day a moderately Ryan Gosling-ish good looking guy walked in (even the same Gosling swag) and made eye contact with me, ordered a coffee - eye contact again - and left. The next day the same guy would come in, make eye contact, grab a coffee, a Wall Street Journal and be out the door. This happened for a series of days. And every day I continued to find my way at Starbucks, at that same spot, awaiting that same encounter.

Each day a bit of anxiety would swell in me. Already I had been caught up in this mode, entertaining thoughts like, “Why am I still single?... Is this real life?... Why is this happening to me?... Is this going to be forever?”  as I’d hope this guy would say hi or smile already.

With a seemingly interesting guy, fueled by emotions I didn’t know how to kick, and in panic mode I decided I’d introduce myself. (This could not be further from my personality.)

It took a few days before I mustered up the courage to open the door to where he was sitting, just to realize he was on the phone and spontaneously spit out “Um, when you’re done, do you have a minute?” “Sure,” he smiled, “I’ll be right in.” A moment later he came in and sat down across from me. “I’ve just wanted to introduce myself and to say hi”, I said.  (Yes, I actually used the very words I hate hearing.) Minutes into the conversation I quickly realized it was a mistake. (Well, really, after he sat to reveal a smoker’s smile.) Turns out he worked as a marketer for a local vodka company, promoted by the likes of Nicki Minaj (you can just imagine the marketing) and laughed when hearing the irony of how polar opposite my job was to his. Beyond that, there was little to be said. It was quite clear this guy was used to being approached, just eating up the attention and I felt nothing more than a naive puppet he found pathetically amusing.

Needless to say, this minor state of panic I’d allowed myself to dwell in made me feel like I was missing out if I didn’t act right away. As if it was the Apocalypse, this guy was the last man on the planet and I had to make something happen out of clear unnatural circumstances.

Nothing ever became of the encounter, except for the fact that I’ve not done that since.

Not two month later and I ended up in a relationship for a period of time. Almost as if I had been anticipating it. He wasn’t the right guy for me, but it went on to clarify my identity and solidify core values I hold tightly to this day.

In no way am I suggesting a female should never approach a guy, but she should know herself well enough to acknowledge whether she’s motivated by a desire to be in a relationship or driven by fear of being single.

There’s a great deal of amazing things a relationship can offer, when it’s right. But there’s also a great deal of undesirable things that come when its not.

But we can save that for next time.

How to Tell Your Emotions Where to Get Off

If you look up the word bitter, you’ll find it is synonymous with the word single.

Ok, not really. But sometimes it might as well be.

Simply googling the words bitter and single it appears the two are quite the compatible pair. The results come to a resounding 99,800,000 finds. The first few post titles include 7 Signs You’re the Bitter Single Friend, Proof You’re Turning into the Bitter Single Woman You Never Wanted to Be, and my favorite How to Spot a Single and Bitter Woman in Her 30s. (Which happens to be number five on the list of Google findings.)

As single girls age, there seems to be more room for irritability and bitterness. (This is also true for any woman. Who are we kidding?) But the catapulting emotion of bitterness is birthed out of something beyond thin air. Clearly, no woman sets out to the bitter and single. Single, maybe for a season. But no one ever sets out to be identified as bitter. So how does this character creep up on us?

Women are quite emotional beings. This has even been repeatedly established via neurological research. So for those of us who are single, there are a lot of emotions that can be felt through this season. And there also happens to be ample time to engage them. I think some young girls assume the older you get the less emotional you’ll feel. That becoming a single career woman somehow bolsters one into a new level of assurance and confidence, which for certain it does. Yet for the female being, regardless of her current state in life, there always seems to be room for emotion. Often the many surges of emotions you may choose to engage now will likely affect the emotional waves fueling your way into adulthood. And not necessarily emotional, as if always crying, “Oh, woe is me! I’m single and all alone!” (Though no doubt that’s a popular one.) But the whirlwind of feelings one can entertain can range from whining to woe is me, to irritability, to being highly sensitive, to anger, and maybe even to belittling those around you, even if it is in the most subtle ways (because if you’re female, you know the seemingly subtle ones tend to be the nastiest.)

The female psyche is a complicated thing. We know we’re complicated. And, if we’re honest, we often even confuse ourselves. So when a woman feels the emptiness of her singleness, when she feels forgotten, she easily allows herself to deeply feel more than necessary. To feel mad, unwanted, belittled and, in result, often become bitter.

If anything in current culture has fueled this, it is what we feel is our right to feel. It is also our deep, sometimes overwhelming concern for ourselves which is often encouraged by a misunderstood message of self-love that continues to stroke our self-focused egos.

Feelings are now, more than ever, considered a beautiful thing. A rite of passage. Particularly when they are our own. They are considered to be celebrated, honored, fully-expressed and our God-given right to be fully felt and conveyed to all of those around us.

In regards to an unwavering faith, C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity on the power of emotions, and the power we can have over them, if we so choose:

Now Faith, in the sense in which I am here using the word, is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods. For moods will change, whatever view your reason takes….That is why Faith is such a necessary virtue: unless you teach your moods ‘where they get off’, you can never be either a sound Christian or even a sound atheist, but just a creature dithering to and fro, with its beliefs really dependent on the weather and the state of its digestion.

(Forgive me, but leave it to a man to see the matter of emotions so plainly and clearly.)

Singleness can breed a great many things. But the one thing we often allow it to nurture is disdain for our circumstances, and disdain for anyone and anything that may appear to have what we want. This time allotted for us to be single is meant to be beautiful and can be if we choose to reign over our emotions instead of letting them reign over us.

If only we may take heed to what the great Dowager Countess of Downton Abbey once said, “Stop whining and find something to do.” After all, the person most likely to turn into an old bitter woman is no doubt a young bitter woman.

Groomed to date humans

I did not grow up expecting to find romance via the web.

No, I grew up in the 90’s with the likes of passing handwritten notes (do you like me: yay or nay), awkward first phone calls, and the ever traditional, palm-sweating dinner and a movie date.

Of course, now conventional dating means either swiping right, or really doesn’t have a place in our vocabulary anymore. So when the dating pool already seems so shallow, is one missing out on relationship potential if not on Bumble or Tinder? Because if it does, I’d say that leaves many of us with a fair amount of reason to be a tad unnerved. (And a fair reason to remain single.)

I blame myself for this severe unpreparedness, that and the remaining remnants of the traditional dating culture I grew up in. (Though in all honesty, even if the dating world had maintained any realm of tradition, I’d likely still be a deer in the headlights.) I was raised with parents who did the conventional dating throughout high school, met their senior year of college, graduated with stars in their eyes, simultaneous wedding bells, and expected a future the same for their daughters. But little did my parents know that majority of my first romantic interactions, of what would ever lead to any kind of date would exist primarily on Facebook, texts and Instagram messaging (which, for the record, is especially odd.) And I’m not even referring to dating apps - not yet.

By the time I graduated college I had yet to consider I’d have to determine one’s social skills via texts, let alone one’s compatibility swiping through pictures on an app, which more often than not just appear to be a bad bar scene.

As the dating culture has shifted the psychological impacts of relational tensions have surfaced, acknowledged as an additional source of stress to many lives. It’s been coined relationship anxiety, and is often experienced in committed relationships, whether it be a 23 year marriage or a couple dating for five months, questioning the certainty of love or whether this person is the right one for you.

Though I’d dare say there’s also a kind of lack-there-of relationship anxiety that haunts many single women. Particularly when you’ve been raised with the expectation to be somewhat settled in life by the time you’re 30. I’m not sure how similar it is to relationship anxiety - fear of being with the wrong person. But it is certainly a fear, one of never finding the right person. It’s as if a fear bottled up in hope, as contrary as it may seem. And it tends to follow one at the most unlikely places, at coffee shops, the next party and certainly any weddings you attend (no matter how many times you tell yourself, “No, that would just be too cliche.”) It’s the uneasy notion that you just might finally find that someone, and a simultaneous haunting angst that there will never be anyone. But like any stress in life, you can either entertain it or choose to disregard it.

Entering a dating app that engages this maybe, maybe not, maybe, unlikely not, up and down roller coaster of hope, disappointment and then… reality, is simply a lot for the emotional tank and analytical mind of a female to engage at once. And of course, it’s known to be an addicting ride as well. The swipe… swipe… swipe… has a similar kind of high that draws many to pick up they’re phone with every Instagram like. Though, like an endless notification, it has the ability to suck one’s mentality and affections into somewhat of a dark abyss. Yet when it appears as enticing as a bad bar scene, or a pool of individuals looking for nothing more than a fling (because such things can sometimes be read on a face), I can’t help but question it’s worth in looking for love.

Regardless of “all the time” single girls seem to have on our hands, I’m not sure such platforms are a well investment for the psyche. At least not for mine. Not when there are humans to be met.

The Good Girl Complex

You can arrive at a certain age, with all the life experience to have survived college, find a job that finally fits, having trekked through many of life’s haunting quandaries, feeling mildly centered with who you are and yet still manage to feel forever 21.

(Ever seen the The Sandlot? I’m meaning that kind of FOR-EH-VER.)

Maybe everyone deals with this to a certain degree in life, this feeling of inadequacy, of immaturity that follows regardless of how much you’ve proven yourself an adult. (At least I’m secretly hoping I’m not the only one.) Particularly, in the pursuit to maintain one's sexual values aren't quite up to par with cultural norms, a girl can easily find herself emotionally confined in such a box.

In the episode, Single, Female, Mormon and Alone, of The New York Times podcast Modern Love, which explores the complexities of real-life love presented through personal essays and read by notable actors, a 30-some Mormon-raised woman shares on the polarization one easily feels when raised with sexual conservative values:

“Most troubling was the fact that as I grew older I had the distinct sense of remaining a child in a woman’s body; virginity brought with it arrested development on the level of a handicapping condition, like the Russian orphans I’d read about whose lack of physical contact altered their neurobiology and prevented them from forming emotional bonds. Similarly, it felt as if celibacy was stunting my growth;... I felt trapped in adolescence.”

For the young women who has chosen to maintain virginity until marriage, at one point or another, many of us tend to place ourselves in this box. Consider the box, so to speak, this idea of adolescence, or an underaged, unqualified, inexperienced state of being.

It was this box I often put myself in throughout high school, college, even into my adult years. It was as if I cornered myself with the concept that sexual experience is directly correlated with one’s level of maturity or life qualifications. Though I had decided to navigate my sexuality at a young age, for reasons that simply align with what I wanted in life, I at times allowed my preconceived ideals of what is desirable to affect my confidence as a woman.

Graduating college, I think I stepped into life feeling somewhat like a kid - because I was single, wasn’t remotely dating at the time, hadn’t the faintest idea of what I wanted to do with my life, and I was single. (Did I already mention that?) Though even when I did date, I’d manage to find myself back in this same box. Let’s just say a series of short-lived relationships with guys who had hit all the bases, can at times just make a so-called “good girl” feel rather strange. It was often these relationships that placed me in a position of some kind of unspoken oddity when guys would realize “Oh, you’re not that kind of girl.” (Though, odd I very well may be.)

Almost as if a lush were on a first date, just to learn they’re going out with a tee-totaler, the modern dating world simply does not support virginity. Of course, pursuing virginity is odd in our culture. So, I guess I’m saying, if you feel a tad odd in the process, you’re probably doing something right.

Yet the irony of this process - day in day out, discerning your physical actions against the many trying and tempting moments life presents - is that each time you hold to these values, your confidence actually grows. Each time you choose to maintain these boundaries, a more solidified and grounding sense of who you are and what you live for settles in.  

Generally speaking, the value of remaining a virgin until marriage can be mistakenly correlated with abstaining from owning any sexual appeal or desire. That in order to be sexy, or merely confident as a complete and whole female being, one has to have had sex.

Granted, avoiding desirable physical contact can do a number on a girl’s sexual confidence - if you let it. When not clearly understood, sexual abstinence has the ability to leave one in a constant pit of self-doubt, a lack of sexual-identity, and even left feeling unfit to be sexy. (As does OD’ing on chips and guac.)

But in choosing to navigate your sexuality, against the everyday impulses, confidence is essential. Though if you understand why your sexuality is sacred, and believe thoroughly in the value that saving sex for marriage holds for you and a future man, and can cling to that hope against momentary feelings of confusion and frustrations, confidence will be readily available. Abstinence doesn’t equate ignorance, but rather an informed and well-developed confidence.

Sexual identity and assurance can be found as much in what you’re not doing, as what you are.

The Rom Com Effect

Romantic films tend to fashion our minds to forgo the complexities and nuances of love, in constant anticipation OF some formulated version of what life should hold.

I grew up in the golden era of formulated films. And I’d gladly admit, I love most of them. 

When recommending such gems from the 80’s and 90’s, let’s say Tom Hank’s Turner & Hooch or Marisa Tomei’s Only You, I tend to get a tad pepped up. So in fair warning - it most certainly won’t reach the level I talk it up to. (Or so I’m told.)

Yet for the formulated film, there is no doubt a leading lady of the genres.

Up until the early 2000’s the nuances and complexities of romance were conveniently overlooked for versions of love most easy to swallow - otherwise known as romantic comedies. The rom com.

Then again, the queens of rom com writing reigned up through my teen years. (Nora Ephron being the queen.) And as much as I’d like to think highly of my taste in film, there may be a handful of painfully formulated romantic comedies I inevitably crave come Fall. (Almost as if an emotional eating issue, only film. With films though, I confess - I’m a glutton.)

In more ways than one, films have a ripple effect on the emotional sense and sensibilities, if you will. Ones that have the ability to kinda screw with your heart, and inevitably your head. At least, I’m quite convinced they've screwed with mine growing up. And particularly for the average single female and the romantic comedy, its lasting effects are certainly two-fold.

Within the grand scheme of romantic comedies from my generation, (with the exception of Nora Ephron - because Nora is always the exception), these films were made exclusively for women, as we women would gladly live vicariously through them.

In most any rom com, this stereotypical female is generally met by viewers moments leading up to meeting the striking male, the brief moments leading up to love. Rarely do we meet this woman three, five, ten years before she meets a man. Rarely is this waiting period, this trifling state of singleness, a stage of life audiences are eager to consume. Unless you’re watching Tracks or Frances Ha, you seldom see a woman just as a woman, exploring and discovering life, without the angst of seeking a destined companion.

In 2009 for the first time in US history, the percentage of single women outnumbered the percentage of married women. Still we’ve somehow accepted this generalized portrayal of a woman, the often dimmed-down, rather uncomplicated, single-dimension version of a female’s relational neediness and irrational expectations. She’s the woman who doesn’t know what she wants in life, and lives constantly at the end of herself. The woman who functions in overriding anxiety over for the opposite sex’s opinion, simultaneously harboring an obvious bitterness towards them. She is the woman eternally desperate for love, who would leave a job, travel across the globe or disown a life-long friend at the drop of the hat, if it meant finding the one. Yet, love inevitably manages to find her. The End; Life is suddenly whole, complete and without need (or intrigue) of any further explanation. It’s such formulated films that have fashioned this preconceived notion that lead us to believe a woman’s sole desire and deepest longings remaining in her are for a man. That in romance, her life is found and completed here. It’s the same formula that leads us into a pit of worries that love will pass right by us, or worse, the acceptance of what would otherwise be viewed as the demeaning role of a bimbo-like accessory, which we quickly welcome as some version of affection. Constant consumption of such entertainment can numb some of us to believe life doesn’t begin until we fall in love.

On the flip side, these comedies (now often translated in tv shows - which progressively continue to rival featured films), paint an ideal picture that can nullify what life holds for females outside of love. And with such statistics making single females no longer a minority, why wouldn’t we want to see more of it on film?

Alas, I understand life is love and love is life. But for those of us who’ve grown to be 30-something and have yet to experience life as love, what does that mean for our life?

Romantic films tend to fashion our minds to forgo the complexities and nuances of love, in constant anticipation for some formulated version of what life should hold. Of course today's romantic comedies certainly aren’t easily summed up in some formulated version as they once were. So hopefully future females won’t have to undergo the expectation that life should follow suit as if some glorified rom com.

Why Navigate it?

While the common arguments to avoid sex, often thrown from conservative circles, focus on the consequences of STD’s, pregnancy and to fit a status quo - the reasons any could muster up the wherewithal to maintain any physical perimeters, falls into none of the above.

When you’re often told you’ll soon be past the age of your sexual prime (though the story on this is always shifting) it’s questionable why anyone would want to be less than sexually active as possible. After all, this is what the single life is generally most coveted for, no? Quite possibly there are some who’ve decided to maintain virginity for a mere label, but for the majority of those who choose to navigate their sexuality in such a way, the reasons far extend status quo.

Yet for any female with the slightest romantic inclination to the opposite sex, the ability to lose oneself within the melting pot of vulnerability is likely for even the most ruthless, seemingly-stoic, feminist of females. Even those of us stand-offish, private and headstrong hate to admit the puddle we would gladly fall into within the hands of the right guy. Consider it our curse, if you will. At least I do, when I think of my willingness to offer a ride to the mall an hour out of town for a boyfriend who, just hours prior, told me to call and wait for AAA when my tire blew two mile away from his house. And particularly when I consider my eagerness to drop my dinner plans to go out last minute with a boyfriend, who didn’t call in over a week, just to break up with me over a slice of pizza, and proceed to join him at a miserable viewing of Jim Carrey’s The Number 23 with a row of teens from the youth group he interned at, simply because he invited you. (Note to self: once a guy ends the relationship, end the date.)  When I think of the outlandish scenarios that I readily endured for guys who had my keen, naive interest - as independent as I like to think I am - I’m floored at the female’s ability to become pure putty within the vicinity of the right guy.

So when it comes to our physical availability with the right guy (an always questionable phrase) well, for that guy there’s few things many of us aren’t willing to do. Of course, it’s part of the beauty of relationship, this vulnerable readiness to fulfill someone’s needs, and their equal eagerness to meet yours.

But in these very moments, most of us can be so ready to do, say, be whatever it is a guy wants (particularly before entering the working world, where many of us finally learn to speak up for ourselves) that we forget the things we want beyond that very date.

Before you learn to navigate it, you have to know why you want to navigate your sexuality. Why you might not want to kiss every set of lips that become available to you. Why you’d like to be a virgin when you get married, or something close to it. Or why you wouldn’t want to not be having sex when you could. If you don’t know the why, don’t want to discover a why, well you’re almost better off just letting loose. Because, otherwise, choosing to force a lifestyle of sexual reservation upon yourself with no clear reason as to why, will quickly run you down; or you’ll just become a prude.

Understanding the why, why you refrain (or don’t) from anything in life, may only deepen your understanding of self, if not simply solidify it.

For singles today, when the likelihood of marriage anytime before 35 is not really in our favor, and some easy, momentary taming of physical frustration is within arm’s reach, navigating one’s sexuality sounds completely nonsensical.

Though when faced with the polarizing qualms of modern love, a little navigation may be the only way to keep you sensible in a realm of life that continues to lose much of its sensibility.

Abnormalities of Love

I’ve always tried to have a teachable spirit if you will, an open mind to understand the way both the old and new world could benefit my journey - particularly in relationships.

When a woman, faithfully married some 20 years, begins to share raw insight on the struggles a marriage inevitably brings, I listen up. When an elder cues me in on how looks eventually subside and all that matters by age 73 is the loyalty that lies between you both, I take note. When my college-age sister suggests I could maybe rewire my perception in social settings and loosen up a bit, I try to take heed.

When a happily married couple (happily, meaning regardless of how the wife may whine about all the sex it takes to keep her husband tame), proceeds to tell me to just get out there, to go ahead and dabble in the world of online relationships, and to “just have fun dating” while I still have these years of “freedom”, my ears go deaf.

If you’ve missed out on the joys of looking for a guy in the days of modern love, and proceed to give me pointers on how to lighten up and enjoy it,  I tend to become a little hard of hearing. For starters, fun and dating as a single adult do not coexist. And certainly not in my realm of reality.

I’m not sure who would find the gut-twisting anticipation of coffee and a movie with a stranger fun. Or enjoy winding up at a stuffy dinner with a socially inept meat-head, eager to talk of nothing more than engineering and Fast and Furious 7. Or even engage the whole long-distance matchmaking thing, where you eventually host a visit to test the waters, find compatibility is slim to none, have to spell out that “Yes. Chemistry does matter”, just to discover the same guy pursuing you will come out of the closet nine months later.

Or, consider the simple casual dinner offer, being led through an entire meal answering in-depth questions on your passions and plans for the future, only to hear the words, once the waiter arrives, “Separate checks, please.”

But, I get it. This whole thing is difficult for everyone all around.

Though, could it just be stated for the record, there may not be a more confusing, odd time to be a single female. 

In short: modern love is abnormal.

Dating is not the stroll in the park it may have been for our mothers. I’m not sure if its formalities can any longer fit into current culture, making this whole navigating thing quite the puzzle.

Or, maybe I’m the only one who finds herself in a near state of panic anytime I pass an older, clearly bitter single woman who seems perfectly content cut off from the rest of the world. The grey-haired, Target-lady bowl-cut types you see at the grocery store, dressed in what can’t quite be distinguished as a sweat suit or pajamas, as if to say “screw you” to the world, strolling past with a cart full of pineapple cottage cheese and cat food. (Just one of the many anxieties in life for a single girl.)

It’s a well-known fact that us singles are marrying later, if at all. We are less the committal type, and a bit more the thrill-seeking type, the majority of the time, our eyes wide open for the next best thing. When traditional forms of dating went out the window, traditional relationships seem to as well. This does not quite make a simple recipe for love, particularly for those looking for the traditional kind. 

Good Girls need cold showers too

It’s a rather odd and unnatural objective, I admit, abstaining from sex as a modern-day single female, with the goal of saving it for marriage.  

Particularly in a day when the majority marry later, girls bloom earlier and the social norms of a dating culture (non-existent as it may be) no longer really caters to this idea of relationship ideals, at least not in any conventional sense of the word.

For most any single female, with a solid understanding as to why you don’t engage frivolous make out sessions each time the opportunity presents itself, your single years can present, frankly, a climate of unclarity and confusion you simply weren’t prepared for.

If you’ve embraced this value, on any level, you know what I mean. Maybe you’re a virgin. Maybe not. Either way, your decision to embrace this idea that sex is created to take place within a marriage, may at times appear prudish. You’re the girl labeled uptight for being too good (too proper, too well-behaved, too morally-composed) to appreciate half the jokes in Master of None. It’s often assumed, when you’re a conservative single female, you’re eager for nothing more than a shiny ring, an elaborate wedding and a pretty place to play house; all good girls care about are the romantic happily ever afters in the form of some kind of glorified desperate housewife scenario.

The traditional picture had long been painted to me as such: boy meets girl, then comes baby, and a family life soon in full swing, dwindles whatever of a woman's sexual drive had existed to make babies, prompting her to tell all her single friends, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

The general thought has long been that while men struggle to steer their sexual fantasies, women battle their romantic sensibilities. While males have a sexual drive, females are simply emotionally-wired. That men just want sex, and women want some cinematic, romanticized version of it.

But maybe my traditional concept of gender roles was highly old-fashioned. I grew up in a pentecostal church (think charismatic christian, sans the snakes and interpretive dance and blow horns. Ok - maybe some interpretive dance.)

Sex was always taboo, a big no, no. And simultaneously a central focus for young singles in the church, it was directly addressed, yet completely avoided. Almost as if the Nike motto in reverse: Just don’t do it.

My teen year were likely the most marketable time to be a virgin. True Love Waits, an international Christian group promoting sexual abstinence, birthed from the Baptist church in the late 1990’s and quickly became a widely embraced abstinence slogan by the Assemblies of God and Catholic church alike. Along with purity rings and Christian hit singles like DC Talk’s I Don’t Want It, while sex was taboo in the church it remained a topic of high intrigue and a top-seller in bookstores.

Churches have long addressed sex geared to gender-exclusive talks for frustrated boys, accountability groups for the red-blooded sexually-driven male, and of course the annual sermon series on the importance of sex for a healthy marriage, while us single folk sit there, twiddling our thumbs, acknowledging our lackluster level of optimal health.

If you’ve been raised with the slightest similar concept of traditional gender roles, and have found singleness to be a longer journey than you could’ve anticipated you probably feel about as prepared to navigate your sexuality and this season of singleness as you do to manually compile your annual taxes or start a bonfire out of sticks in a secluded neck of the woods.

For all boys and men, a drive for sex is identified as completely normal, healthy, and expected. For females, it's often totaled up to be daddy-issues or a promiscuous fixation in search for a deeper identity. And, maybe it is.

Or, maybe, for the majority of us, it’s just plain normal.