The Real Reason I’m Single

The Real Reason I’m Single

Dear Diary,

I can’t stand that question, “Why are you single?” Why are we so often asked tedious, intrusive questions, especially around the holidays? Why do our family members feel entitled to know intimate details of our lives? Just because they’ve known us since we were in diapers doesn't mean they are entitled to know what goes on when we are in our skivvies. They act as if our single lives still hold an innocent and charming appeal. They assume asking about a grown woman’s private life will result in an adorable anecdote or two, and then an encouraging pinch on the cheek to send me on my way for another year in the brave dating world.

I’m tired of it. I have a rule in my personal life, don’t ask questions unless you are prepared for the answer because I’m going to be honest whether you wanted to hear it or not.

Most of the time we already know the answer to the question we are asking and we simply want to be upset, fight, or feel reassured. Political correctness and social etiquette have made it so that we are rarely, truly surprised by what people say. Everything is "pre-approved."

Besides that, it’s sort of a self-important question by someone who has been paired up long enough to be miserable.  They say, “You are so beautiful, how can you be single?” As if to suggest, “Looks aren’t everything, Bitch! Bet you’re a total nutjob. I’ve heard about your kind!”

They aren't flattering you, they are insulting you and asking for the evidence.

Nonetheless, you are expected to give the standard response, “Oh, I’m just picky,” or “I work too much.” No one is really asking. No one really wants to become acquainted with the intimate details that make up being you. Superficial questions come from superficial people.

So, if you aren’t ready for the answer, don’t ask the question. Because my new response is, “I don’t do anal.”

Poor Aunt Louise. Bet she won’t ask me again next year.


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