Avoid Societal Expectation: Take Back Your Soul!

"Get over it!" my so-called trusted friends declared, their tone as casual as if they were dismissing a rainy day. Well, let me tell you, those three little words hit harder than the time I tumbled from a tree trying to prove to the neighborhood boys that yes, girls can be daring climbers too! (Ugh, gravity had other plans for me.)

It brought me back to those teenage heartbreak days, sprawled dramatically on the couch, sobbing into a pillow for a week because KR-the-heartbreaker decided he wanted to be with Puffy Patty, giving away her wobbly bits. My mom, the queen of tough love, would say, "Get up! No boy is worth your mascara!" She was right... sort of. But back then, I thought her words were the ultimate betrayal.

So here I was again, years later, listening to my friends serve up a cocktail of unsolicited advice. My ego puffed up like one of those pretentious dwarfs auditioning for a WWF match, ready to unleash a hurricane of spiritual smackdowns. But I didn’t say anything; I felt that overwhelming pit in my stomach, AKA Submissabelle, the submissive servant, waiting to take orders at a drive thru. Oh no, not me, I decided to let the nonsense flow like the flushing of poop in a toilet. it began with, "You need someone to fill your gaps," "You need to be in a relationship," "You need to get up and move on," and then it came—the grand finale: “Just go with whatever shows up in your life and deal with it!” Sure, because dating will solve all the issues that they believe will be the cure-all to the disease otherwise known as Singlitis. No thanks!

And that was that. I declared I’d rather embrace the present singleness than dive into the local "meat market" they so enthusiastically endorsed. No free samples for me, thank you very much!

Needless to say, invitations to awkwardly mingle with strangers have mysteriously dried up. Yay for small victories! In the end, I chuckled at my friend’s well-meaning but misguided advice, but not before I explained that their perspectives were simply a projection of what I like to call “Look at me, my life isn’t so bad, even if I have to sell my soul.”