The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
If you’ve somehow stumbled upon this article, I’m going to take a wild guess that you:
A) Willingly devote every waking hour of your life to celebrities that don’t have a single clue you exist.
B) Have a profound emotional attachment to Edward and Bella’s relationship and dreaded the removal of the Twilight films from Netflix last month, or
C) Have to conjure up fake scenarios in your head every time you listen to “All Too Well” (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version) just to have an idea of what it’s like to have your red scarf stolen from you by your significant other.
Yeah… I think I might’ve just unintentionally described myself but if the shoe fits, wear it, right? Don’t get it twisted though, I am no Cinderella, and I most certainly have no Prince Charming. My teenage years were a series of perpetual romances and boy drama, none of which ever belonged to me. I was never the girl recounting her first ever steamy make-out sesh while playing “Never Have I Ever” at a slumber party. I was always the girl waiting for the game to end because I wanted it to remain unknown that I had never even held hands with a boy before. This was a battle I had to fight on my own. I’d always longed for someone to validate my loneliness, constantly pleading for reassurance that I wasn’t the only teenager on the planet with a poor excuse for a love life. And here I am, older and much wiser, dissecting the chronicles of my non-existent love life in an attempt to soothe any single-hearted readers that you are in fact, not alone.
I’ve been single for the entirety of my existence. It has been an uneventful two decade-long, boy-less saga consisting of daydreaming about my future fairytale wedding with no groom in mind. Twilight has been the pinnacle of my love life, to say the least. If you’re like me, you know all too well the feeling of spending holiday gatherings with nosy family members who are dying to ask you if you have a boyfriend and being condescendingly reassured that you’re “not ugly.” Umm, thanks, I guess. I think I’ve gained enough self-respect for myself over the years to perceive myself as more than “not ugly.”
In my senior year, I refused to confront the harsh reality that I was never going to live my Troy and Gabriella High School Musical fantasy. Even though I would be graduating in a few months, and I still remained untethered to love, I clung onto hope. Hope that in the blink of an eye I would meet my blue-eyed basketball player, and he’d instantly fall in love with me and ask me to prom after a spontaneous Waltz on a rooftop garden. Wrong. Deadly global pandemic instead. Talk about a plot twist, am I right? No Troy Bolton look alike, no promposal, no waltz. Just me, myself and I for a year and a half. And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Believe it or not, quarantine completely changed the trajectory of my path towards love. My love life was no longer a pity party. Why was I moping around every Feb. 14 because no one anonymously delivered me a Valentine’s Day gift? So what if I had never been asked out on a date? I shed my sad girl cocoon far too long ago to be sobbing on my bedroom floor at 3 a.m. watching Edward and Bella’s wedding scene on repeat. I didn’t want to be known as “single.” Why should I let that title constitute my entire being? I was no longer going to let this label be a constant source of shame and embarrassment for me. So I took it off my mental pedestal and repurposed it instead. I quickly realized I was the only person in my life making myself miserable. I decided to stop pining over what I didn’t have in life and began to immerse myself in the one person I had lost all focus on — myself. Thus, I mastered the art of enriching everything about myself that makes me who I am. Yes, I’m single, but more importantly than that:
I’m a businesswoman — working hard to chase my creativity, fulfilling hopes and dreams.
I’m a truehearted friend — devoting time to those who bring extra color into my life and being there for them whenever need be.
I’m a good daughter — letting my parents know how much they are appreciated everyday and trying my absolute best to make them proud.
I’m a hardworking student — prioritizing academic success for the benefit of achieving my career and life goals.
I’m a proud fangirl — embracing my unapologetic boyband-loving self, no matter what anyone thinks.
I’m a kind person — loving everyone and embodying kindness from the goodness of my heart.
So if anybody asks me, the answer is yes, I’m still single, but I’m also so much more than a girl who’s never had a boyfriend before. I’m a girl who loves to turn her doodles into stickers for the world. I’m a girl who appreciates lying around on the couch with her friends and doing a whole lot of nothing. I’m a girl who doesn’t go a day without saying “I love You” to her parents. I’m a girl who thrives off of academic validation. I’m a girl who stays up having midnight One Direction dance parties by herself and nightly Harry Potter re-reads for fun. I’m a girl who will always smile at strangers even if I know they won’t smile back. I might be going into my 20th year of life still single, but I’m still me. I’m a girl who has learned to take both life and love, day by day. Even if it might’ve been the hard way.