Single Shaming
Your co-workers do it. Your relatives do it. Hell, your friends probably do it. And the sad thing is, they probably have NO idea what they are doing. What they are doing is making you feel poorly about something you have no control over. Being single. Literally. None. Unless you whore yourself out on the street, which would just be ridiculous … and dangerous. Or let any idiot date you … which … no.
These people, the single shamers, are the ones who believe any cherish-able moment in life should be spent with a significant other. She’s that girlfriend of yours who only comes around when she isn’t in a relationship, and when a man finally falls for her she literally drops off the face of the planet (we all have one of those). They are the ones that ask inane questions or make obnoxious statements like:
1. He’s out there … don’t worry. He’ll find ya!
Proper response: I’m not playing dating hide and go-seek. Calm the fuck down.
2. Have you tried online dating?
Proper response: I would rather spend $19.99 a month on shiny things … or shots of vodka.
3. (When single shamers talk to one another:) Do you think she is sad because she’s the only one out of our group of friends that is single?
Proper Response: Yes. In my free time between knitting and brushing my 10 cats all I can fathom is how my life just will never amount to anything without a man at my side and how much better your lives are because of it.
4. I have the PERFECT guy to set you up with!
Proper response: I hate people.
5. Who is your Valentine this year missy?!
Proper response: My cat :::takes a victory sip:::.
And if this shit wasn’t bad enough, now Valentine’s Day is upon us and it is like everywhere you look you are being reminded that you are “alone.” Alone. What utter hogwash. “Poor little single person with no one to buy them anything from the aisle in Rite Aid that looks like Cupid vommited all over it.” I have no shame in my game, I will straight up buy myself a box of chocolates any time of year and eat that shit, single or in a relationship, Forrest Gump-style.
I decided Valentine’s Day was a bunch of hooey when I was 16 and my boyfriend gave me a stuffed dog with a heart in its mouth that said “I woof you.” Yeah. That happened. I didn’t swoon … well, I faked swooned out of courtesy for him, but in my head I was just like, “is this what people do? Really? What is the point?” And since then, I’ve just been beyond it.
Listen, love comes in different forms and is in random corners of your life, but one thing I’m absolutely sure about is a box of chocolates, flowers, a dog with a heart in its mouth that says “I woof you,” a reservation at a fancy restaurant one day a year, sure as fuck doesn’t mean love in ANY sense of the word. So thinking you aren’t loved because those things are happening for you Saturday is just straight up crazytown.
And to all you people who treat your single friends like they are the hunchback of Notre Dame sitting alone in their bell towers screaming, “DON’T LOOK AT ME, DON’T LOOK AT ME!” stop it. Seriously. These people are your friends, therefore tilting your head and going, “awwww no Valentine this year?!” makes them want to secretly judo chop you in the throat.
Single, in a relationship, swingers, I demand one thing from you on Saturday, and that is to show yourself some love by buying yourselves something shiny. That’s all.
Life Sucks In A Strapless Bra has spoken.
