I've been reading romance novels since I was fourteen and fascinated by love since long before that. So, a person who doesn't know me very well might be surprised to hear that I am writing purely based on on what I have read and seen, not personal experience.
I was in high school when I first met a guy I really liked. I even had the courage to ask him to one of the formal dances, something that ate at my ever-anxious mind as I waited for the answer that never came. However, the crush was not mutual, and I found that out the hard way, crying on the bleachers while he danced with someone else not even five feet away, with him not noticing or caring. It was then that I found out that my love life was not set out to be some John Hughes movie. This was the cold, hard reality.
Recommended for you
If I thought the rejection in high school was bad, college only cemented this cruelty. I was interested in several guys throughout my undergraduate years, but each of those crushes ended badly. The last one was the worst, perhaps because I had once again built up the courage like I had in high school to straight-out tell the guy I was interested in. However, when I saw him with someone else, after I'd spent days planning what I was going to say, I knew that I would never be able to say those words. No matter how desperate I had become, I would not sink so low as to go after someone else's boyfriend.
At twenty-one years old, I have never had a guy express interest toward me, and it is a devastating, empty feeling. I have never been on a date, never been kissed, never experienced any of the things I have spent years reading and writing about. I feel light years behind my peers.
Because of this, I have continued to bury myself in romance novels and TV shows. My friends like to joke with me about the celebrities that I have crushes on, that I have a very specific type. However, there is a sadness tinged to it. These books, movies, and celebrity crushes are just something to ease the sadness. It's not like those men are attainable (or available, for that matter). None of those relationships that I love to watch develop on a TV show are a reality. Some would say it is even setting unrealistic expectations. I guess I would say it is simply setting an expectation, since I have no idea what dating is really like.
Over the years, I have surveyed my friends to see what possible reasons there could be for the lack of interest. I have heard everything from my being intimidating to my hair being too short. None of them offered me any solace and only made me feel more self-conscious. After all, hadn't I always been told that a guy is supposed to like me for who I am and not who anyone else wanted me to be?
Living in a dorm always spawns those ever-insightful late night conversations about guys and dating. Somehow, I always ended up crying because I was finally able to reveal my insecurities. One of my closest friends told me that perhaps I have been too mature for the guys in the environment around me, and I suppose that could be very true. They offer me explanations that put the blame on the guys, not me. They carefully remind me that I have always been attracted to older guys, which is true.
Most of my friends tell me that someone will come along. However, it feels so easy for any of them to say. Most of them have been in relationships or currently are in one. They have had opportunities that I have not been afforded. I know that it's okay to be single, but sometimes, I really wish I knew what it was like not to be.
Somewhere deep inside, I still hold out hope. I know I am only twenty-one and have plenty of opportunities ahead of me. I have a college degree and am a self-published author. I am successful. However, with all of the social expectations and a good chunk of my friends having already experienced romantic relationships, it can make a young woman feel abnormal no matter what she has achieved. Admitting this is difficult, but I do often ask myself that horrible question, no matter all of the reassurance I have been given: what is wrong with me?
