Men my age are gross.

They’re either giant man children, completely clueless, filled with too much masculinity, completely rigid, full of bad habits, or a mix of all listed. 

I just don’t know how to fucking do this. Be single. Like, alone. I’m on my own again and it fucking rules. I love that I can make snow angels in bed or that when I buy a snack I know it’ll be there waiting for me. I like that I don’t have to ask for permission to do something. I like that any decision I make typically only impacts me. 

But all of these things have come at a cost. I have no clue how to invite people out, for coffee, on a date, an invite to a movie or anything really. It’s so weird, if I think about how my preteen self tried so hard to think of all possible variables for my adult life, I would have never thought I’d marry an agoraphobic. I got so used to hearing “no” or “I’ll sit this one out” so many times I stopped asking. I started ignoring the FOMO and just did it. 

It was scary at first. Being the only person in a crowd on their own, or so it seemed. At first I was horrified at being alone at a show. A million thoughts would flood me to a point of paralysis. 

“Everyone is looking at you”

“What a fucking loser. You couldn’t find anyone to come with you?”

“What a weirdo”

“Alone. Wow”

It took me several shows, and several events to start gaining enough confidence to walk into a venue with the only expectation of a good time and minimal concern at how other people perceived me. I gained so much confidence that I started doing a lot of things on my own; movies, shopping, new restaurants. It was a good feeling but I also had this other aspect of me that wished I could share some of these things with my partner. 

At the end of the day I was with someone who wasn’t compatible with me, but I also didn’t realize just how incompatible we were until life’s major tests began. 

In the summer of 2015 I was laid off from my job. I didn’t have any real savings and I was still junior enough in my profession that I didn’t stand out nearly enough for employers locally to give my resume much of a look. I still had student debt to deal with, on top of debt I’d accumulated after several promotions afforded me some grand luxuries. 

I found that even though I was married I was still saddled with so much burden to keep our little family afloat that I took a menial job just to generate income, and decided to go back to school and finish my degree. It was rough; I was working a job I didn’t like, juggling a full course load, still trying to stay relevant in my industry, and maintain a household. 

I won’t say he didn’t contribute in any way, but I will say that he was not nearly as burdened during this time and was not driven at all to try and advance his own professional standing. A raise on his part would have been a blessing but he just wasn’t driven enough to think it was necessary or needed. I was managing just fine! 

I think that was the first sign of the end, but given the amount I was juggling adding a separation wasn’t an option. I wanted to get out of the situation I was in and reevaluate things once I wasn’t head under water. 

The next few years would continue to be a stressful and exhausting ordeal. Working at a startup for 1/4 of my professional worth, finishing a full course load, managing a household, and trying to make friends in a city I no longer loved was very difficult, but I managed. All while he was comfortably set up at his desk, playing whatever game was hot for him at the time, chain smoking ditch weed and consuming what little food we had. 

I guess ultimately for the past decade I basically was single and living with an agoraphobic and socially distant roommate. He just happened to be my spouse, but he definitely wasn’t a partner. 

So now here I am, years later and officially on my own. It isn’t the alone part that’s hard for me, it’s the part where I should naturally be able to socialize or do things with friends in a way that doesn’t cause me anxiety or annoyances. I’m trying and I’m practicing; the people who I’ve been surrounding myself with have been really understanding about this and have done their best to help encourage me to move through it. But it is a process and I know I have a lot of work left to do still until I feel like I’m able to clear this hurdle. 

I just know dating is something that horrifies me and I probably won’t jump back into it after this most recent foray, but I do wish I had a partner again. I miss that. He wasn’t always absent, but at some point he closed himself off and the shift from a marriage to co-living started to happen. I don’t know the why, and I don’t think I even have to, but at some point we just broke and there was no fixing it.

And when I think of dating again I think about all the tedium, all the work, all of the vulnerability it creates and I’m just not keen on any of it. Especially with my current dating pool options. It sounds cruel, and I know I have work to do to continue to better myself, but lately the only people I seem to meet are the ones who are looking for instant gratification, a lot of “What can you do for me?” ways of thinking while I’d prefer to come at it from a “what can we do together?” angle.

This new world I’m living in is full of positives – I’m afforded an opportunity to live in a new city, go on adventures, and begin to find myself again. It’s all very exciting, but at the end of the day sometimes I just wish I could give someone a hug and tell them about my day, listen to how theirs went, and then just enjoy each other’s company. 

I think I’m asking for far too much.