I’m trying to work out why I’m chronically single.
I’m about to turn 29 and the longest relationship I’ve had is with a three-month-old jar of Nutella. I can safely say that that was an achievement in itself – three months too long. Let me paint a quick picture. I’m successful in a professional sense. I have many friends in a worldly sense. I am by no means ugly.
So what is it?
I’m constantly racking my mind as to what it could possibly be. I haven’t necessarily ever been dramatically hurt by men. In fact, I love them. Maybe there were signs way back when I was first ‘active’, and by ‘active’ I mean having my first kiss. I was a late bloomer. Hell, I grew up in a conservative Lebanese family. I’d be shot if I ever brought home a guy in high school. Instead, I ‘chose’ to focus on my studies. Now my parents are begging me for grandchildren – the irony! Ethnic parents, am I right?!
The Mamamia Out Loud team deep dive on one night stand etiquette. Post continues after.
The first guy I ever dated ‘Bad George’, dumped me for being too prudish. He figured out I was a virgin. I was too embarrassed to admit that I was. I was eighteen. In my mind, I was too old to be one. He wondered why I would never play with his dick whilst he viciously made out with my whole face in the passenger seat of his BMW. He would always say “touch it”. Did I mention he had a girlfriend? Hence the ‘bad’ in his name.
It may well be this incident that started the fear of relationships.
After the quick realisation that ‘Bad George’ was the kind you don’t take home to mother, I became a player – virginity still intact. I would hook up with every guy in the Western suburbs. By hook up, I mean kiss. Add in a few digit slip ins along the way. I pretended to be sexually liberated and oozed confidence when I really wasn’t. It worked. When it came down to the crunch of the prospect of a real relationship, I was embarrassed by my lack of sexual experience, I’d make an excuse and leave. His hands were too scrawny, what was with his nostrils? He’s not cool enough. When in reality, I was too scared to “touch it”.