I have been dating, mostly casually, without any real intention of finding a boyfriend since this summer. Fairly recently, I started to feel ready for something that lasts more than a few weeks. I, of course, immediately became deeply confused as to why a boyfriend did not appear in my life as soon as it occurred to me that I might want one. In my twenties, I was a Boyfriend Girl. Never single for more than three weeks at a time, every second date turned into a relationship. This time around, it’s been a bit more of a struggle. A major factor in my solitude is that my standards are simply much higher than they were in my twenties. A man smokes weed daily? I know that will annoy me in the long term! Two slightly misogynistic jokes? I am for the girls and especially for this girl and so that man is not for me.
And yet, it does seem like it should be easier? I am stable, my apartment is nice, I am silly and outgoing and fun to talk to, I am smart, my work projects are interesting, and my baggage is mostly dealt with! Unable to come up with any substantive reason I could not find a boyfriend, I decided that a small weight gain was to blame.
I was complaining to my overly honest male friend about this nominal weight gain. “I think I am single because men like overly skinny women. I think if I lost five pounds, I would have a boyfriend.”
“That isn’t your problem. In a sense it is, your fixation on this is a problem. But you’re attractive enough that the kind of man you like, realistically, is always going to be interested. If men don’t like you, it’s because of your personality.”
