Girlfriend, it's only embarrassing if you stay for the sake of it.

Life's too short to settle

I tell you what; I’m really enjoying this ‘having a boyfriend is embarrassing’ chat happening around the internet right now, and I have to recognise my privilege in that perspective - I’m currently quite happily unattached.

I have the kind of life we’ve done such a beautiful job of romanticising; freedom of time, quietly fulfilling my every whim and desire, cuddling with my cat and eating girl dinners.

There’s no one messing with my sacred equilibrium; I have nobody else’s feelings to consider and I am free to do what I like, when I like.

And in that, I have plenty of sympathy for women in mediocre relationships right now. If you’re happily partnered, none of this chatter will bother you. But if even a small part of you wonders whether you’d be better off alone, this wave of anti-relationship propaganda might be enough to tip you into singledom.

And honestly? There’s nothing bad about that. Being single isn’t shameful anymore. It’s not some great tragedy. Being in a relationship simply doesn’t offer the same social currency it used to.

Being independent and self-sufficient on the other hand? Oh, the girlies covet that kind of freedom. And truthfully, when I was in my last relationship, I yearned for this.

Back then, I was shrinking myself down to fit within the confines of the relationship. I was with someone who, at first, accepted me - more than anyone had before - but over time became more and more critical of who I was.

I started censoring and contorting myself. And the more restricted I felt, the more embarrassed I felt that I’d let myself end up in that place. Even more embarrassed about who I was doing it for. To make oneself smaller, for the approval of a man? Changing yourself to be chosen? That’s embarrassing.

Being single used to mean something was wrong with you.

But it’s shifting, aggressively. It’s more accepted than ever to be single by choice, to live fully, freely, and independently. But it didn’t feel like an option ten years ago.

I spent my 20s walking the well-worn path, believing a relationship made me someone. I didn’t think I could stand alone, so I adjusted myself to suit and I settled.

Again and again. I felt the sting of embarrassment just taking ownership of the men I settled for. Only to be disrespected to get a laugh over dinner. To watch them get sloppy drunk at a kid’s birthday party. Having them say something offensive in front of my family, openly betray me or ask if they can wear shorts to a formal wedding because they don’t like pants.

If an ill-mannered son is a reflection on his mother; an embarrassing man is a reflection on the woman that keeps him.

Now, at 38, I’ve learnt to be alone. I sustain myself financially. I feel legitimate on my own. I no longer crave being chosen, because I’ve chosen myself. And it’s a relief. It feels like coming home, honestly.

So yes, one might ask - why date again? Why bother?

Because I’m an optimist? Maybe because I believe there are men out there who’ve reached the same point - that don’t need a relationship, but would like to share life with someone. Men (or just one man will do) that carry themselves correctly and act like a grown man should.

I don’t want a boyfriend for the sake of it. I refuse to settle for being periodically embarrassed; humiliating myself to be loved. I want a connection that expands me, not one that makes me hate myself.

And it’s curiosity more than anything. I just want to know what it feels like to have someone I’m proud of, someone I feel secure in.

Real love, the kind that makes life feel bigger, like you could do anything. I’m curious about what parts of me that would unlock, what I might be capable of with a man who lifts me up instead of holding my head under water.

If real love ever finds me, I hope it looks like something that celebrates us both. A love that doesn’t require anyone to shrink themselves. A love that looks across a crowded room with pride.

And if having that standard means that I stay single - then so be it.

Because I refuse to embarrass myself for a man ever again.