I’ve never had a boyfriend, sue me.

How I feel when someone asks me reacts to me saying I’ve never had a boyfriend:

• WTF
• Seriously, not this again
• *tight smile*
• “hahahahaha yeahhhh” *internally screams*
• I want to throw whatever I’m holding in my hand at you (this is very rare, only in bad moments and to those I don’t know well)
• Wow, I love your condescending tone
• Please just shut up
• *eye roll*
• Whyyyyyyyyyyy
• Ugh.
• Sadness x loneliness
• Pls leave me alone
• You’re making me feel stupid

As a 22-year-old, I am no stranger to the old “Woah, you’ve really never had a boyfriend?”. Usually my response borders something between “yeah, I get that a lot”, “yep” and a simple “mmhmm”. Every time, I meet someone new I brace myself for the dreaded question or really exclamation out loud when topics of dating and romantic relationships pop up inevitably. With old friends, I wince when the conversation turns towards me and I feel the pressure (since almost every friend I know has had one) weighing down on me. I’m usually met with a joke or two, lighthearted in nature, but it sinks to the pit of my stomach every time and laughs at me from the inside. With relatives, it stings, but I know it’s not said with malice or intentional condescension.

It almost feels like a competition. “Oooo I wonder when Maddie will finally get one! Will it be in a few months? Six? A year or two? How long can she manage to stay single despite having gone through high school and all of college without managing to find one? Will it be a meet-cute? Maybe she’ll accidentally spill a coffee on him in a Spanish cafe and look up at the most stunning man ever and be swept off her feet!! Or maybe while walking her dog in her hometown, he’ll accidentally hit a tennis ball out of the court (I can’t escape tennis boys) and she’ll retrieve it, only to be met with a big smile and a warm energy!!” My internal dialogue and words said by others blur together often, spinning in a circle and echoing in my ear.

It’s humiliating. It makes me feel stupid. It’s a reminder of my loneliness, despite my independence, and it feels worse coming from a friend. It’s something very few people my age can relate to (that I’ve encountered). It’s bothersome but also tiring. I’m the last one of my high school friends to not have one so I feel like the “last one”, like I’ve lost a race that started without me realizing.

I run towards the finish line, huffing and pumping my legs, but every step feels heavy and every time I look behind me it feels like I haven’t gone anywhere. The end seems so far away. It’s embarrassing to bring up around family. It makes me feel like other things I’ve done in my life aren’t worth as much because I’ve utterly failed in my dating life. I feel like the butt of a joke that I can never be in on. But mostly,

the feeling that always burns the strongest

is that I’ve failed myself.

I spent a large part of my childhood watching Disney and Pixar movies. By age 8, I had probably seen every classic Disney princess movie. I remember Jasmine being my favorite, as least for a while. But I can’t really recall why. Perhaps the fact that she had a pet tiger and my love for cats started young. I watched the princesses get saved by their prince, discover that the meaning of her life and the answer to all her problems is a man (boy is that wrong but that’s for another entry) and get swept off her feet.

I always dreamed that when I was older, like really old (high school), I would meet the most perfect man ever and also be swept off my feet. At the age of 16, I would be like the teenagers in the movies, with perfectly styled hair, a killer makeup routine and a cute car. 16 felt so many years away, an eon in the future, that I could picture a different person.

I would be so cool. I would have so many awesome friends and have really fun sleepovers (because that’s what 16 year-olds do right?) and have a hot boyfriend that would take me to all the school dances and prom, after giving me the most amazing prom-posal. I would be so pretty and fit. Great fashion, great boobs (after reading the American Girl puberty book I was convinced) and a perfect life. So, let’s see how that worked out:

• Awesome friends — check
• Killer makeup routine — errrrr not so much, but I did my best with the few Sephora products I had
• Perfectly styled hair _ nope, took me until last year to figure out how to even properly blowout my mane
• Cute car — Ya know, my 2005 dented Toyota Highlander was and will always be my baby, RIP
• Fun sleepovers — A bit different than I imagined at 8, but sure
• Pretty and fit – I struggled with self-image for years but have finally found peace (mostly), and I was generally fit for most of high school
• Great fashion — Lol, I went to a private school and frequently borrowed my friends clothes so, nope
• Great boobs — Welllll, it’s taken me years but I finally appreciate my smaller-than-average rack
• Hot boyfriend — nope
• Hot boyfriend to take me on dates and school dances — nope
• Hot boyfriend who did the cutest prom-posal ever and danced the night away with me at prom — nope

I could go on and on about how few things I pictured for myself came true, but it would take up pages. The truth is, the grass is always greener. I was a happy child, but I always had the expectation that I would figure things out just because I was older. I would excel at puberty (which what does that even mean, like how would someone do that??) and come out the other side a teenage model with a Disney-like life.

I was the oldest sibling and the oldest cousin on both sides of the family so I had no other expectations, no grasp on reality as a teenager and young adult. I was the first, my only role models were the adults in my life who had at least 20 years on me. And those adults were amazing. But I didn’t really know, or understand. And my siblings and cousins wouldn’t come to understand my experience either until I was well into college. By that point, I had already stumbled through adolescence, high on my superb grades and active social life and extracurriculars, but confusedly trying to figure myself out and why on earth I couldn’t find a single male who would want to date me.

In my defense, I went to an all-girls school for five years from 8th grade to 12th grade. I moved from my birthplace and childhood home of Leesburg, VA to Charleston, SC when I was an awkward 12-year-old. I went to public school for one year and then transferred into my high school, where I thrived in the small, all-female environment. But even if I had gone to a typical American public high school, I would feel the same.

I picture the young girl who excitedly watched Disney princess movies and her disappointed face at my love life. I can see my small, round face fall and the sadness crawl up inside. I bow my head in shame and also try to swallow the frustration and angry tears. “I tried, I swear!! I spent so much time at school and I just never made guy friends like other girls, but I have tried!!” I say desperately. But I can’t change the past. I had fun at all my school dances, throwing my hands up and moving to whatever clean version of a 2015-2019 top hit song they were playing among sweaty bodies in our school auditorium. I loved prom both years. Getting a party bus to and from our venue, the afterparty at someones house and the peculiar, hard seltzer blurred memories of the night.

But I never went with someone I knew. I made small talk with a stranger, some boy my age that my friend had found through her boyfriend or guy friends and pretended like I didn’t crave the feeling of being with someone I could call mine. It’s a particularly strange feeling. Everything else about these dances was so perfect, but there was always a hole on the inside. A small one, the size of a keyhole. But it was there. Sometimes I would forget about it, usually the busier the better. But occasionally it would ache and throb, a reminder that I hadn’t accomplished something.

It carried through college, through all the surface-level conversations in dark, sticky frat basements, or when I scrolled on Instagram and saw girls my age grinning next to a boy with some variation of an emoji heart in the caption. When a roommate brought back her boyfriend and they spent time on an old, cramped dorm bed or in a small apartment bedroom. I always told myself, I am so lucky I have my room all to myself and can do whatever I want without having to worry about dealing with someone else! But it was only to mask the sadness I felt that I could never quite get rid of.

It’s taken years of bitter Valentines Day’s, scoffing at 6-month anniversary posts, cute TikTok trends and listening to hundreds of love songs to deal with the fact that I can’t relate to any it. I don’t relate to most of the songs I listen to. I don’t relate to those who talk about being crazy in love, or at least thought they were, and who drove themselves to do crazy things. I’ve never had bad dates because I’ve had under 5 dates, like ever.

I’ve never felt a true emotional and romantic connection with someone in my 22 years of living. Sometimes it kills me. I get bad FOMO. I feel like I’m always on the outside looking in, staring at everyone else dancing and mingling and crying and sweating in a warmly-lit ballroom, finding each other, while I stand out in the snow. Struggling to see through the foggy glass on my tippy toes. It’s an isolating feeling, truly. But I’ve made peace with it.

A rocky peace, but it’s a start. I’ve come across videos of women talking about not ever having a boyfriend at my age,or even older and had my wait, that’s me!! moment. I’ve realized I’m not alone and there are plenty out there who feel the same and are in my situation. I’ve never been with someone, but I’ve been with myself for over 20 years. I grew into the woman I am without ever depending on a boyfriend, feeling held back or stunted, and by making my own mistakes.

I know more about myself than ever before, especially now having lived abroad in the past year. I deal with my own issues but I have no deep-rooted issues from past relationships, no trauma. Nothing. And while I’ve always felt that dating during my teenage and college years would’ve been experience, would’ve given me clarity on many things, I have found my ground on my own. I know I will never compromise my independence and I will never lose faith in myself.

I am grateful I got to spend my high school years working hard without the distraction of a boyfriend, putting forth my best effort and spending my free time making memories with my friends. I spent my college years doing the same, building up an impressive resume. And while I sat on the couch, eating my microwaved dinner and scrolling through shows or movies while others may have been dates, I never wasted time on someone else. I always had me time.

I know to some that sounds sad. But I don’t really care at this point. What a beautiful thing it is to feel like you are finally finding yourself. What peace it is to know I don’t regret any decision I made because of a relationship that didn’t work out. I only have myself to blame, and that is something I can move on from with my own internal closure.

There is nothing I can do to change the past, how I experienced high school and college. I did the best that I could at the time. I was so young, so I give myself grace. One day I know I will experience the highs and lows of being with someone, the rush of emotions and the heartbreak of it ending. But I move through life steadily and on my own instead of sitting idly by, crying and wishing I could be like everyone else.

To the one reading this who can’t relate to any of it, be kind to those you know who are in my position. Maybe the friend you have who always laugh it off, says they’re fine and is happier being single anyways. Or the one who clearly gets embarrassed at every mention of it. You may not joke or talk with bad intentions, in fact I’m sure you don’t, but it sometimes hurts to get reminded of something you’ve never had. It makes you feel less.

To the one reading who nodded along and understands, who gets me, you are not alone. There is not something wrong with you, you are not stupid. You will find someone one day and know these feelings. Instead of turning inwards with shame and self-hate, look outwards. There is something to be said for growing up with yourself first. The longest and most important relationship you will ever have is with yourself. Hold your head high and don’t crumble to the words of others, especially those younger than you.

You don’t need a boyfriend, or even a significant other, to enjoy your life. It’s your own damn life, no one else’s.