My phone rings on my granite-wrapped countertop as my friend calls asking for relationship advice. After describing all the flirting and talks they’ve had, I tell her to ask the guy to hang out and get a vibe for the relationship, knowing I haven’t even had one myself.
I’ve had romantic interactions before, more specifically, situationships. I’ve had one that lasted 11 months, never having the “What are we?” conversation, and I’ve had other ones that lasted 2 weeks. Yet I’ve never had an official boyfriend. I’ve been on dates, but only a few. I’ve kissed guys, but only twice.
I scroll on Instagram, looking at old high school friends soft-launching their boyfriends, or posts on their close friends’ stories about the date they just went on. Sometimes, I feel like I’m falling behind.
I thought that by the time I got to college, I’d have had a serious boyfriend by now, gone on more dates or experienced the excitement that everyone talks about. I know that relationships aren’t achievements, and that having one doesn’t automatically make someone happier or more mature.
But knowing that doesn’t stop me from wondering why everyone else seems to be collecting experiences that I haven’t even started. I don’t actually want a boyfriend because everyone else has one. I want to experience what it’s like to genuinely like someone and let them know.
My roommates constantly talk about the “rosters” they have, or the dates they are excited for and the guys they met on Hinge. I sit there feeling jealous. Not because they’re going out with a really hot guy, or because they had a code pink the night before, but because I’m not experiencing the excitement, too. I’m not experiencing “young love.”
A lot of my friends come to me for advice. I give it to them, offering my best two cents. They follow it up by asking about me. I reply with nothing new, and they react crazy, saying I haven’t had anything in a while. I simply reply: “Coaches don’t play.”
At first, it was just a joke I used to get around answering questions about my love life, but I slowly realized I’m comfortable analyzing other people’s relationships because I wasn’t risking anything myself.
I used to be scared of relationships. Not relationships themselves, but the vulnerable feelings behind them. The idea of texting someone and having them know every detail about me, my family life, my fears and my beliefs, made me feel icky.
When I went on my first date with a boy, I immediately went to my sister. I told her about how we went to Raising Cane’s. She sat there and smiled with me, getting me excited.
Sitting across from my sister, telling her every detail of a date that ended with a boy showing me his camera roll, I wasn’t embarrassed. I was excited. For once, I wasn’t giving someone else advice about a boy. I was the girl with the story. Coaches may not play. But I don’t think I want to be a coach forever.