It is the question of the hour in my Latin family, as they consistently ask where my alleged boyfriend is. Well, sucks to say, I’m looking for him too? But that’s the thing. It’s truly just a small joke I make, with little intention behind it. I am by no means ready for a boyfriend, or even emotionally prepared for one.
In a dream world, I would be perfectly mentally-stable, have a self-image, and most importantly, know how to regulate my emotions in a healthy way. Which, for the record, I don’t think I’ve dotted all my I’s or crossed all my T’s just yet.
If you were to ask my family, I don’t need a boyfriend. But sure enough, the topic of every conversation is when they’ll be able to meet the lucky guy.
Coming from a line of women who married and started families relatively young makes it difficult not to feel guilty about putting the idea of a family on the back burner. Having kids at 28 or 30 can feel late when you compare it to the timeline I grew up around. But the women in my family did not necessarily have the same career opportunities or professional goals that I have today. What a blessing and a curse, right?
Being a woman in today’s society means checking off a list of criteria that somehow always contradict one another. Be funny, but not too funny where it gets annoying. Be intelligent, but not too intelligent when you become arrogant. Be successful, but not too successful where it threatens your romantic prospects.
I mean, I’m not all the way there yet, but search up the healthcare side of Tiktok and you’ll see what I mean. Female doctors often talk about the difficulties of dating while pursuing demanding careers. Of course, social media is not exactly a scientific study, but the conversation itself is interesting. A successful male doctor is often viewed as an eligible bachelor, while a successful female doctor may be asked how she plans to balance her career with marriage and children.
Why is ambition considered attractive for a man, but sometimes treated as an obstacle for a woman?
I can only imagine that this extends beyond medicine. Women in law, business, academia and other demanding professions may face similar expectations. It is not that these women are incapable of having committed relationships. It is that they are often expected to prove that their careers will not interfere with their ability to be partners, wives, or mothers.
And maybe that is what bothers me most. I do want love. I want a family someday. But I also want to become someone I am proud of before I build a life with another person. I want to know that I can support myself, regulate my emotions and pursue a career that means something to me.
Why should wanting those things make me less desirable?
Maybe being career-driven does not limit your chances of having a serious relationship. Maybe it simply changes the kind of relationship you are willing to accept. I do not want to be with someone who sees my ambition as competition. I want someone who understands that my career is not a rejection of love, but a part of the life I am trying to build.
So, to my family, I promise I am not completely opposed to the idea of a boyfriend. I just have a few things I would like to accomplish first. And when the lucky guy does come around, I hope he understands that he is not competing with my career. He is becoming part of a life I have worked hard to create.