To many, this may come as a shock, but to some, this bold statement feels relatable. I experience "love" only in my dreams; I have never had actual experiences of love beyond that.
I have grown accustomed to being alone, so I don't crave relationships or love in that way. Social media holds a giant mirror up to society, revealing the "cheat code" of overexposure that constantly highlights what I don't need. I've shared "moments" with men, but none have been enough to lift my spirits and make me reconsider.
The text highlights our collective feelings of being lost. Many actors love to play pretend and take on roles they can't fully embody. After eight years in therapy, I've come to realize that my choices stem from deep-rooted trauma.
I have always seen myself as a late bloomer in many ways. When I interact with men, I can't help but think, "Men just want one thing," a saying my dad has preached to me since I was a teenager.
Since that fun and loving "speech," which I believe was a scare tactic my daddy used to discourage me from having boyfriends, I faced a time when I, as the oldest, received the most mental lashing, not physical. I couldn't enjoy my high school years without my dad reminding me that he had friendships with some of the staff to "watch me." My high school experience strayed far from the truth.
To look back and realize that the majority of your bullies were boys who are now almost 40-year-old men makes me wonder if they feel any remorse. Most won't remember the harm they've done because it's an adult who spewed the "boys will be boys" ideology that, as a young teenage girl, I couldn't understand.
The first boy who complimented my looks told me I looked "alright," and that hurt. Still, I didn't care much about his opinion because he had a reputation for being disrespectful to girls in our grade. I even saw him fight a girl before school started. Hearing the word 'alright' felt just as painful as being called 'ugly.' Nobody wants to feel "alright" or "maybe." I never thought my looks were a mixed bag, and adding low self-esteem to the mix didn't make his statement any easier for me to accept.
The first time being called a bitch occurred at the hands of boys. A classmate called me a bitch for simply existing and not wanting to entertain foolishness. At the same time, someone labeled me a hoe for a polite request for someone to be quiet, which led to a discussion about weight, which, in retrospect, was simply baby weight and a regular part of puberty.
While in college, I maintained this phobia of men. I didn't want to make eye contact, walk past them, or even talk to them because boys want one thing. I did my best to avoid them at all costs. After high school, I attended community college, and that's when I practiced solitude. I could go hours without talking to anyone; I became mute and invisible. I became invisible and allowed my grades to speak for themselves. I didn't make friends, and I didn't talk to grown adult men either.
The lack of opposite-sex interaction isn’t a priority during my first few years after high school. Although I had graduated from high school, I was still a teenager at the time, and I became fixated on my crush. My blinders became thick and one-tracked. I trained my mind to create a blur outside of myself. It's almost like you're walking into a party. You hear music and see everyone having a good time, but you can't listen to them; that's the college experience I had. My mind didn't transition from teenager to adult until my mid-twenties.
My social skills were weak, which contributed to my social anxiety. I don't have experience with young boys asking for my number or wanting to take me out on dates. What I've had experience with is grown men/pedophiles attempting to date me and wanting to be my "friend." I had love confidence, but I'm headstrong and used discernment. I've hung out with my friends to get overlooked, and now I know that's a matter of desirability politics.
As time progressed, love and relationships took a backseat to career and financial security; that part of my life is a dream in my reality. I didn't know what I wanted, let alone who I wanted to be with; I still felt like the teenage high school girl in my early twenties.
In between figuring it out and living with undiagnosed depression, I didn't want to have a boyfriend. In my mind, I felt like I couldn't tame my own "crazy." There were things I still didn't know about anxiety and depression, and I suffered a lot in silence and was embarrassed to speak about it. Mental health conversations were not prevalent in the mid-2000s.
The podcast wave has become increasingly popular over the last few years, and it's revealing things about men that I wish I had never known. Opinions about relationships and love are mixed with misogyny. Hearing black men speak about black women makes me feel 3/4 of a human, let alone a black woman. Most of them reveal themselves in these spaces, and it gives me the creeps. One married man stated he didn't love/like his wife, and others refused to be a father and decided to be the baby out of the mother; the violence, stalking, and unaliving on Facebook Live and Instagram Live don't make me feel safe.
Following the #MeToo movement, the conversation continues to focus on consent and the importance of saying no. Even the word no could cost you your life. It's happening way too often, and it scares me. I can't see myself taking that kind of risk. Men lying about their sexual status and giving their partners HIV or leaving the mother of their child in a hospital to give birth, why do you go out and cheat? None of what I'm saying is fictitious. Women have been sharing their stories on TikTok since I joined the platform.
I don't feel safe leaving my home.
I don't feel safe saying no gracefully.
I don't feel safe riding in someone's car.
I don't feel safe at night.
Perhaps I'm overly exposed to social media and have allowed what I see to become the norm, but I also think about how the same disrespect is prevalent in many men. I can see a few men, but men across the nation are cheating in the same way, regardless of their looks or charisma; it's as if they've read the same book. I find that alarming because most people have the same internet and social media access that I have. Yet, they still feel naive about the fact that a viral domestic dispute can easily unfold in their backyards.
I'm not in a hurry to find love or be with anyone, especially if it compromises my safety and mental peace.