Feel like a good vent?
To a good chunk of the world, if singles should dare to exist, it must be because they have something "holding them back." Mommy issues. Insane expectations. Fear of commitment.
He had gone out with more than one girl that he could see himself marrying, but his mamma put the kibosh on all of them; no wonder he's alone! She hopes that the man she marries has a plan for the future, and he sees nothing beyond waiting tables for the next few years; silly goose, doesn't she know she has to compromise? He is dating her seriously, but not proposing; it must be because his uncle got divorced.
But then, beware of the RED FLAGS. One should be flexible, unless there's a RED FLAG. (I'm still not sure where bendiness is warranted and fleeing screaming for the hills recommended.)
The "professionals" have been unleashed. You've heard about them, the "dating coaches." Too quiet on dates? C'mon in, we'll make you into a Chatty Cathy. Too loud? We'll get you on the perfect mellifluous decibel. Don't know what's "wrong"? We'll figure out how you're broken, and fix you. Because if you're single, you're broken: You need fixing.
So if I'm single, of course it's because I messed up MANY opportunities I had for wedded bliss, while still wobbling along the narrow line in not compromising on those RED FLAGS.
Since, indubitably, every couple out there is . . . just the same. So it's an accident that he's quiet, and married, right? Or that she's loud, and married, right? Or that he's . . . something, and married? Since we aren't all supposed to be different. We're all supposed to be the same. (Sarcasm, people, sarcasm!)
Here's a story that I know well. Luke married his first girl, Orgiana. Orgiana was quiet on their dates. Newbie to this whole business, he had difficulties mustering up conversation.
Their outings consisted of long stretches of silence.
But that didn't matter. He saw a woman of brains, who didn't speak carelessly; her experience until then had been with loud jerks, and she was drawn to that same thoughtful deliberation.
He thought she would say no. She thought he would say no.
Nearly fifteen years later . . .
As for me, I don't think there is anything I need to consult a "professional" about. If a guy isn't for me, he's going to think I'm too quiet, or loud, or something. That's not on me; that's on him. There is a lass out there who is his ideal.
The majority of the men I have had the displeasure of being introduced to ticked off nearly all the categories of RED FLAG; no way is a relationship possible.
I don't think I'm broken. I'm merely unattached. Kindly don't confuse the two.