Living in Houston, I can’t help but perpetually be in my feelings about being single. Mostly, that’s the weather’s fault. Either it’s rainy and you want to be inside cuddled up under a blanket with bae, or it’s sunny and you want to be at the park with bae, or it’s inexplicably and unseasonably cold and you want to be holding hands and sipping cocoa…with bae. One would think that living in the city offered a wide variety of dating options, but that’s just not true. It seems that everyone who is worth your time is already spending it with someone else and you simply don’t have the time to be wasting time with someone who isn’t top shelf.
Whether meeting someone in real life and trying to get to know them, or trying to date online, it’s always two swipes forward, one swipe back.
I always end up griping to my parents and my brother and sister — who are seven and ten years older than me, respectively — about how hard it is to date. They try to give me the best advice they can, but then it dawns on me: none of them ever really had to date. My dad met my mom when they were both 19 years old on a Sunday and proposed that Thursday. They’ve been married for 40 years. My sister and her husband dated and got married within six months, and my brother just sort of ended up married. One day we looked up and he introduced this woman as his wife…I still don’t know the details.
Either way, it’s disheartening to think that I am here, in all my glory, still single.
The problem can’t be me, right? I mean, I think I’m dope as hell, independent as Boosie and Beyonce want me to be. So what I’ve resorted to is blaming the one thing every web site blames when they don’t really know who to blame: the Internet. No doubt about it, that’s the one thing my older, married relatives didn’t have that I’m fully immersed in. My job is Internet-based, so I wouldn’t be able to get off of the darn thing if I wanted to, and it seems like a good way to get all the rest of my important business done — naturally it’s where I do my dating too.
But, there are some serious differences between how my parents and siblings’ generations dated and how I’m forced to date, which is why any advice they have tried to give me is, well, useless.