Almost exactly one year ago, I found myself in a place I had never really been before — I was single. Since I was about twelve, I had made a habit of getting into relationships with guy after guy after guy. After breaking up with my boyfriend of nearly a year and a half last January I decided that I would make a concerted effort to stay single. I wanted to focus on my relationship with myself, rather than have my sense of self be attached to a guy. I felt a bit like a character in a sub-par romantic comedy by making that declaration, but it was important to me.
The main thing about my behavior in relationships that I wanted to change was my tendency to alter my opinions and interests for the guys I was dating. Being with someone was more important than being with therightsomeone and, as a result, I found myself saying things like, “Yeah, I totally love baseball too,” despite not knowing anything about baseball except that you hit the ball with a bat, and I wasn’t even 100% sure if that was right. I would find myself getting attached and ultimately hurt by guys that I was never really sure I ever even liked. I convinced myself I liked them and that we were compatible out of a fear of being alone.
The decision to stay single started off easy. I was single for the first time in college, which allowed me to get close to people I normally wouldn’t have spent a lot of time with. When you’re dating someone, a large chunk of your life is eaten up by them, but being single allowed me to grow closer with my suitemates and find a group of solid girlfriends for the first time in college. I was about three months into being single and no part of me missed being in a relationship. I kept myself busy during the week with class and internships and then during the weekend, I went dancing with friends, went to parties, and tried new restaurants. I was happier than I had been in a while and it was completely unrelated to my Facebook relationship status. When I got the opportunity to go on dates, I’d respond, “I’m sorry, but I’m really not interested in dating anyone right now.” Cue Beyonce.
This is not to say that there were not moments that I missed being in a relationship or moments where I missed being with my ex. However, I was keeping myself distracted with enough activities and people that it was easy to pull myself out of a woe-is-me session when I felt one coming on. Plus, any sadness that I felt was immediately overcome by a wash of happiness from the realization that I was living my life as “Michelle King. Period.” and not “Michelle King, Girlfriend of So-and-So.” I was the only person that defined me and I loved that.
Eventually, I did agree to go on a date with someone — a cute senior who I hardly knew but had harbored a distant crush on forever based on literally nothing more than his amazing bone structure and piercing green eyes. For our date, he took me to one of my favorite restaurants, where we sat at a candlelit table and I felt… absolutely nothing. It was clear within minutes that even though he was a perfectly nice guy, we had little to nothing in common. There was not even one butterfly in my stomach.
In the past, this was exactly the kind of guy that I would convince myself I had serious feelings for — he was (ridiculously) cute, nice, charming, polite — all the things that are objectively “boyfriend material.” Still, the fact that we had zero chemistry trumped all those factors. Instead of pretending that I was as into the things he was interested into or that I found all his jokes hilarious, I refused to let myself throw away the sense of independence I had gained. At the end of the date, he asked if I wanted to go on another date later that week. I knew that a few months ago I would have said yes, but instead I took a deep breath and said, “I had a great time tonight, but I really want to be single right now and I don’t want to waste your time.” That weekend, I went out with some of my best friends and at no point in the evening did I find myself wishing I were with a boyfriend.
After about 7 months, I was still single and was still happy. Being single forced me to think about the reasons why I had become so reliant on males. I was learning so much about myself. I was living in New York for the summer and definitely felt as if I was entering a new chapter of my life. One weekend, I went to the apartment party of a girl I went to high school with. Since I didn’t know many people in the city, I was open to talking to and hanging out with almost anyone, which is how I began talking to Joshua. We had an instant rapport. We liked the same bands and movies and had both studied abroad in the Netherlands, but the connection was based off way more than just things you’d find on our Facebook profile. We had the same sarcastic sense of humor and similar career paths. Talking to Joshua was easy right off the bat, but I still wanted to be single, which is exactly what I told him when he asked if I wanted to go to dinner that week.
“Okay,” he replied. “Then let’s not go out on a date. Let’s just hang out as friends.” I didn’t see any problem with that (after all, we clearly had a bond and I didn’t have a lot of friends in the city), so I agreed.
Joshua and I began hanging out frequently, doing things that vaguely resembled dates (walking the Brooklyn Bridge, watching the sun set on the Highline, visiting art galleries in Chelsea), but we never held hands, we never kissed, we weren’t really even very flirty. I let him know when I disagreed with him. I’d show up to dinner with messy hair and no makeup post-gym. I felt comfortable with him and I loved being with him. I knew that I liked him in a way I had never really liked anyone previously, since I felt so comfortable with him and no pressure from our relationship status, but I also knew that being single was really, really important to me.
One night, Joshua sat me down to have a talk about “what we are.” He expressed to me how much he liked me and even that he would be willing to do long-distance once the summer was over and I moved out of Manhattan. As he spoke, I began to get anxious. The idea of not being with Joshua scared me, but so did the idea of having a boyfriend. Being single still felt new and important to me. I let him know that and could see how crushed he was. After that, we didn’t really hang out again.
I’m still single and sometimes I do have “what if” moments regarding my relationship with Joshua. If I sat here telling you that it wasn’t hard watching Joshua get a girlfriend, move on, and lose touch with me, I’d be lying. It was very difficult, especially when all of that first happened. I become angry with myself that I had let a guy I was truly compatible with go. However, that was about 8 months ago and I have learned a lot about myself in those 8 months that I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to had I been someone’s girlfriend. I am proud that I made a difficult, but ultimately right, decision and I have certainly reaped the benefits.