thelesbianlifestyle.com

It seems like everywhere I go, every time I meet one of us–be them gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, etc–every time I read a blog or profile…I see, “Kristy and her partner Jane have been together for 13 years” or hear “My partner and I are coming up on our 9-year anniversary.”

Whoa. I’ve never even been in a relationship for a good three years, let alone some of these numbers I see. The other day, I was reading something and saw that this lesbian couple had been together 23 years. The only other couple I know that has been together that long or longer than that is my heterosexual parents.

I know I’m not the only one of us sitting up here single–otherwise, I wouldn’t have written. In fact, I started to put this on my own blog, and then I realized how perfect this might be to write about here. And I know there are some more of us who are not single but also haven’t really been in long-term relationships to the extent mentioned above. I have a friend who, seemingly, every time I talk to her she’s interested in or dating someone different. But it almost seems to me as if every GLBT person I meet has been in this long, committed relationship, as if that’s almost a GLBT requirement nowadays (i.e. let’s show straight people that our relationships are no different–maybe even stronger–than theirs)…and the worst part is when they ask me what’s up with my love life.

Ah, yes–my love life. Or lack thereof. And that’s fine, most of the time. I’ve been single for a long time, and I think the longer I’m single the more set in my ways I get. But I still can’t help but notice that it’s getting to that point where everyone I know–gay or straight–is turning into a “X & Y” kind of thing or was that when I met them. And the worst thing is when they act like that’s what you’re gunning for, or should be, or that something’s wrong if you’re not that. Not to mention how am I ever supposed to find anyone if everyone seems to be matched up? Do I just have to wait for my crush’s life partner to die or what? (The sad thing is, yes, I have actually thought that–and I feel bad for even thinking that, but…in my latest case of the crush, it’s been 10 years for them and they seem happy, so I don’t see splitsville any other way.) I could be 80, walking up to her with a cane, pacemaker going insane because I’m so nervous, granny voice and all–”Would you like to play bingo with me tonight?”

Even though I’m usually happy with being single, I still have to ask myself what have I been doing for the past few years when less people were partnered up. Well, as far as sexual orientation goes, I was too busy not being interested in the fact that I like women. I mean, I knew, but I just didn’t think about it as much, didn’t check out women as much, etc. As opposed to my crush, who probably arrived in the hospital 25 or so years ago looking for women. I mean, I really wonder if accepting that I like women earlier would have made a difference in the relationship department. I feel like being fine with being single has cost me something and will continue to cost me more as I keep getting older.

Which…my birthday was yesterday. I turned 26. And my best friend, whose birthday is coming up in less than two weeks, and I talked about how turning 26 is kind of bad because now we’re closer to 30, which is “old.” So now we feel “old” because we’re on the road to 30. (I know it’s ridiculous.) But she has found the person she wants to marry (she’s straight), so that’s one less thing off her back. We all know that the older you get, the more you field those questions like “Why are you still single?” “Someone as great as you, how is it that you’re still single?” Or it’s things like, “A & B, R & S and X & Y are getting together this weekend. You’re welcome to come, too.” It’s like how that show “What About Brian” started out–it was, like, three couples and then…Brian. There can be so many things I like about being single, but eventually it seems to lead to stuff like losing a level of relatability to friends who are in relationships, not getting to spend as much time with them as you used to or as you’d like, not really getting to spend time alone with them (it’s now the X & Y plus you show) their wanting to fix you up with nightmares and so forth.

And, still, I can’t imagine being in a long-term relationship. It’s not necessarily because of commitment issues, but maybe because of becoming more used to how things are as a single person and possibly because I’ve never really, really been in love. And then with the extra hurdles thrown at gay couples, it always amazes me to hear “We’ve been together 6 years” and watching the same sacrifices being made in those relationships as in straight relationships. One thing I probably should be asking these people is how they met. Because those of us who are single know that, okay, what are our options the older we get? In our 20s, a lot of us aren’t even in school, so you’re relying on, what? Bars and work? Maybe an organization, if you’re lucky and live in places that have good GLBT events? In school, I’m not out to everyone, so that’s an extra hurdle there. And even without that hurdle, I feel like there’s a certain amount of subtle alienation I experience as a black person at a predominantly white school with predominantly white GLBT individuals.

Then there’s personality. The dance where the more “butch” girls are expected to do all the approaching. First of all, I don’t know what category I fall into with most people, and I tend to think all that is crap in every application. Second, I don’t approach people even just for friendships. My closest friends all basically approached me. Once I know you, it’s easier to work up to a romantic approach. But cold-approaching is not for me. Finally, there are the games that get played. I’m not the best person to speak to this. I mean, I feel like every woman I’ve been interested in has played games with me, but I know so little about game-playing that I generally don’t even know what games they played. I tend to be a straightforward person, which I’m learning more and more is harmful in more ways than you might think just in life in general. Maybe I need to learn how to play games, but that’s also just not my style and is not really something I’m interested in.

All of these things are part of why I’m single. Maybe next time someone asks me why I’m single, I should just direct them to this post. I mean, do people seriously expect you to sum up why to them? Or, if something is wrong with you the reason why you’re single, are you seriously going to tell them? “Why are you single?” “Oh, because I’m an insensitive, self-centered bastard who hurts chicks’ feelings by teasing them and being too direct about any and everything with them.”

Okay, I guess I just did tell you what is wrong with me.