As I get older it becomes increasingly evident to me that I am not a normal person. I honestly wasn’t aware of this before. I’ve been making stories up in my head since I was a preschooler—way before I entertained thoughts of becoming a writer (an idea I didn’t give serious consideration until three years ago). I always assumed that everybody was making stories up in their head. I thought the normal thing to do after watching a TV show was to construct a mental script of what happened to the characters next.
But that’s just one of my personal quirks—it doesn’t actually make me weird (I don’t think). But then there are my feelings about relationships, men and being alone.
First off, I’m not a romantic. I consider romance to be a sales-pitch. Some guy (or girl) wants to create a demand for whatever it is they’re selling and they do so by showering their target market (which hopefully consists of one person) with hearts and flowers. Now I have a degree in marketing so I have great respect and admiration for a good sales-pitch. As far as I’m concerned the best part of the Superbowl is the commercials and I love it when something I want is packaged well. But if a guy neglects to send me a Valentine or forgets our anniversary I’m not going to get upset. The only holiday I expect to be acknowledged for is Mother’s Day because I worked for that one.
Does all that make me a little weird? Probably. Here’s something else—I like being alone. I know a lot of women say that but I really mean it. I’m not going to say that I would never consider entering a long-term committed romantic relationship again (I’m a big believer in the never-say-never thing) but relationships—even good ones, are so much work. Why go through all that for some guy who isn’t totally spectacular when being alone is so easy? I do like dating and I’ll admit I love being ‘picked-up’. That excitement you feel when some new guy first approaches you and tentatively tries to make conversation is great fun. Unless of course their a total idiot—note to men: your first words to me should never be ‘do you believe in fate’ or ‘you are so f-cking hot.’ I’ll still have my fun–but at your expense.
I know that some people will read this and think I’m trying to justify my relationship failures. I’m not. You don’t have to believe me but I should tell you that while men have lied to me and done or said hurtful things to me no one has ever dumped me. Of course there have been times when I went out on a date with a man and then never heard from him again and there have been men who I found attractive who never bothered to give me the time of day but I’ve never been in a committed relationship with someone and had them call me up, email me or sit down with me and say ‘Kyra, I don’t think we should see each other anymore.’
Yet here I am, a single woman by choice because for me if a relationship is more work than it is fun or if it is somehow destructive then I will get out of it—quickly.
I don’t judge women who want to be in a relationship. If that’s important to you then the choice to pursue one is a valid one—in fact it’s the only logical choice for you to make and you shouldn’t feel defensive about it. We’re all different and we should conduct our lives in a way that makes us happy (assuming you’re choices do not necessitate the suffering of others).
But personally I love being single. I love living alone with my son. I love the freedom and the independence of it. Does that make me weird—absolutely.
Sex, Murder And A Double Latte—May 2005