Single Self-Importance

I am often asked why I don’t have a husband/boyfriend and, when my answer is not satisfactory, the asker subsequently makes a list of possible men with whom to set me up. Of the few set ups I have actually agreed to, they have only served to illustrate the very reasons why these men are still on the market.

My singleness makes people slightly nervous, worried that they are missing something truly horrific about me, not immediately visible, that precludes my settling down with anyone (something they have obviously missed in their single male friends). They figure there must be something wrong for me not to be attached by this point – perhaps a deep-seated psychological neurosis that I have never dealt with, or an innate bitchiness and inflexibility that only comes out behind closed relationship doors. I obviously have some serious self-help to undertake before I am able to enter into a healthy partnership.

Years of Oprah, self-help books and popular psychology have taught us single women that we cannot find love until we really love ourselves. We won’t be able to be with someone else until we are happy with being by ourselves. And we should expect and demand a person who is up to the high standards that we set for ourselves.

But is it possible that some of us have gone too far? Do we think so highly of ourselves that no one can measure up to the inflated vision we have of ourselves? Do we love ourselves so much that there is just not enough love to go around another person? In the immortal words of Elaine Benes: “Is it possible I’m not as attractive as I think I am?”

We don’t want to share ourselves with just one guy – who would be worth it? We have so much to offer, with our superior intellect, preternatural beauty, and mastery of sports, cooking and carpentry. All of this greatness would be wasted on a guy that probably is not even capable of fathoming the extent of our amazingness. Only Leonardo da Vinci would start to figure out that there was something unbelievable about us, and he’s been dead for ages; plus we would probably get annoyed with his backwards notes scribbled on the back of invention blueprints: klim teg ot enog.

So where does this leave us narcissistic, over-confident girls in search of a free-loving polyandrous society? It leaves us with friends who scratch their heads as they try and think of a suitable match for us, trying to figure out what exactly it is that is wrong, all the while never realizing that the fatal flaw is our refusal to settle for anyone that isn’t as goddamn wonderful as we are.

(Thank you to Sarah, the inspiration for this piece, who suggested that perhaps we lean toward arrogance in our dealings with the mere mortal males in today’s dating scene.)