To All The Humans I Love

Okay, to all of my girl (and one boy who just read this) friends who are single, ranging from the “currently single” to the “lifetime sentence” kind of deal, I’ve got a thing I want to say to you that I don’t think enough people are saying to you, or at least saying it and actually meaning it, or saying it in a way that’s funny enough to trick you into actually hearing it. So here goes.

Being single does not mean that you did anything wrong, that your life doesn’t look right or that you’re somehow subpar. You’re not doing anything wrong, not at all, and the reason for that is that getting a boyfriend is not what your purpose is. It is in no way your primary function, it is not your job, and it is not your concern. You were not created just to sit around and wait for someone else to find you pleasing. How boring would that be? If you’re reading this then I probably know you, and I don’t make space in my life for people who aren’t completely fantastic and interesting and kind and passionate and fun and weird in the best possible way. It’s a high bar and you’ve made the cut. You have so much cooler stuff to do than finding a guy. You’ve got stuff to learn, adventures to have, really unhealthy food to eat, friends to make, laughter to produce, memories to form. Because that’s the kind of stuff you are made to do.

And someday, as much of a lie as it seems on certain days, there will be a man- NOT a boy- who stops being an idiot just long enough to see how fucking cool you are, and you guys will get out of your own ways long enough to get into each others’, and that part’s not going to be as easy as you think it is either, but it will be awesome and great and worth it. Someday. That will happen for you. I could quote you mere statistical probability alone to back me up on this. That guy is on his way, alright? But he’s not quite here yet, so stop worrying about him and think about all the stuff that’s around you now, that might not be here by the time he shows up. The friends, and the food, and the adventures, and the being awesome. I promise that the value of that stuff does not fade. Ever.

And yeah, I know sometimes it’s going to feel shitty that no one’s picked you yet. But I am a firm believer that value ascribed to you by someone else is not value that you want any part of. Because value given can be value taken away, and you’re not just a sieve to hold people’s favor until it slips away again and leaves you empty. There’s a reason you exist, and it’s not solely for the benefit of other people, and it’s definitely not for the sole benefit of one particular person with pretty eyes who smells good. There’s something that you are and something you can do in this world that no one else would ever be able to be or do, even if they tried. I don’t think anyone on this earth ever is going to be more qualified to define you than you, so why would you let them?

I feel like there’s no better way to round this off than with a solid reiteration of that most oft-uttered idiom among the be-ovaried, that being that boys are dumb. I’m not saying that in the sad, jilted, “looks like it’s just you and me again tonight, Mr. Tibbles” kind of way. I’m saying that because it is truth. As true as Newton’s declaration that a body in motion tends to stay in motion, boys are dumb. Boys are dumb because people are dumb and boys are just people and any boy you could think to name right now is no exception. So cut them some slack to just be people, just be really dumb people sometimes. They don’t know any better. Not yet. So don’t sweat it, because no memory dominated by pointless fretting is worth taking up space in your head when there’s laughing and playing and hugging and dreaming and living to do.



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