Thursday, January 28, 2016

Single in Cville: a Survivor's Guide

It was my first week at a new job in a new city. I was fresh out of college and excited to explore the world of early adulthood. In my first attempt to make friends, I joined a few coworkers for lunch. Brian sat across from me. He was engaged and excited for his upcoming wedding. Adrienne sat beside him. She was a fellow 2010 grad and had gotten married earlier that summer. I chuckled to myself and looked to the guy on my right, Adam. "Are you married, too?" I asked, half joking, for surely not all had already made the biggest commitment of their life. We were in our early twenties, after all. A time for revelry and adventure, for late nights and ridiculous stories. I heard tales of my older sister galavanting through Chicago, and I assumed this behavior was consistent throughout the country.

"No," he answered. "I'm engaged."*

Where was I? I was not in Chicago, friends. I was in Charlottesville, the city where 50% of the population is married, 30% is in a relationship, 15% is off limits because they recently dated your best friend, and 15% is a special breed of idiot in pastel shorts and applique belts who feel compelled to tell you the asinine subject in which they're getting their Ph.D. or casually mention their father's yacht within 30 seconds of meeting you. That's right - the dating population of Charlottesville is -10%.

Let me be clear: this is not about dating. I have been on roughly five dates, and one of them probably doesn't count - Sam Bradford told me he liked my hat. I also went to what I thought was an interview that may have been a date or an invitation to join a cult. I'm not sure - the man implied at one point he was Jesus. And then I saw him every day on my walk to work and awkwardly looked in the other direction or talked to my invisible friend, Joe, to avoid eye contact.

For those ladies who came here hoping to learn how to score a date in a town where the male/female ratio works against you, though, here it is: sit at a bar by yourself and stare off into space. I have run field tests, and while the quality cannot be guaranteed, the conversion to a drink offer is 92%.

Now: I do know about being single.

Not because I "have really high standards" or "just want to enjoy my freedom" - which, frankly, I don't believe when a girl tells me. I think secretly we all want a man to sweep us off our feet - preferably, a man who is beautiful, intelligent, kind, and has a six pack, good sense of humor and enough money to support our shoe fetish but not enough to make us seem like gold diggers. The reason for solitude doesn't matter; what matters is the depths of knowledge gleaned from a nearly six year foray in the Charlottesville singles scene. When included in my memoirs, this chapter shall be segmented: the annoying, the bad, the good, and the truth. Some of it's universal, some particular, some of it's silly, and some hard to share. As always though, it's honest.

The Annoying

Lame excuses. "I'm not ready for a relationship," "I don't want to ruin the friendship," "My phone's dead so I can't get your number," "Work's really hectic right now," "I have a girlfriend." Okay, maybe the last one isn't lame - just annoying. Really, a simple, "I'm just not that into you" will do.

O, beautiful man at the gym who is not wearing a wedding ring, why did you casually mention your wife four months after I adjusted my workout routine so I could admire your chiseled body? Men, at least wear a rubber wedding ring to the gym. It helps me keep my imaginary world in check.

That time I was on Tinder for 16 hours and deleted the app because I knew 70% of the men and the others looked liked they enjoyed either Drake or David Allen Coe just a little bit too much.

Shoot. Gotta change my gym schedule for a couple weeks.

OSweetJesusWhyAreYouHere. Because it's Wednesday night, I have a huge zit and am apparently revisiting puberty, my boss is annoying me, and while I want to vent to a close friend over some vino, the small town devils want to send a gentle reminder that though you are not into me, you are taking this broad who I assume you met through some random medium for social hookups out for dinner and drinks. And then probably dating her. And then probably marrying her.

Guy: Why are you still single?
My head: Why is the expectation in this town that a female needs to be in a relationship at age 27?
Me: Because my husband hasn't come along yet.
...Guy walks away because I mentioned the H word.

Well hello, sir. You seem well adjusted. You are single and straight. You have not yet dated anyone in this town. Ooo, you're moving across the country next week? Cool.

Being a twenty-first wheel.

The Bad

The loneliness. It's just the worst.

The voices. Screaming that you are not worthy. That no man will ever see you the way your dad sees your mom. I wish it were not the case, but there were periods where, though I knew they were lies, those voices prevailed.

The mistakes. My biggest mistake was not forcing my boss to eat at the same bar as the New England Patriots when we saw the team at Dulles airport. Ahh what could have been. Other mistakes - seeking comfort in the wrong places, disappointing others, making my world loud so I didn’t have to deal with the quiet.

The Good

Different relationships. I have had space to build strong friendships with people across the spectrum of social circles. I will carry those with me, and that is more valuable than a series of broken relationships.

Not running into an ex who reminds me of a relationship that ended with me throwing a ten pound ash tray at his head.

Untainted memories. I have been to twenty countries. I have seen the Eiffel Tower, admired Machu Pichu, roadtripped through Eastern Europe, skydived over the Remarkables, dined at true Brazilian and Argentinian steakhouses. Looking back, I see the wonderful people who were beside me: my sister and brother, my cousins, my closest friends. I hope the future Mr. Navatsyk enjoys traveling, because I would love to build memories with him. However, I am glad I have shared moments thus far with people I know will be in my life forever.

Revelry and adventure, late nights and ridiculous stories. Although let's be honest, I think I would still have ridiculous stories if I was dating someone.

OMyGoodnessFancySeeingYouHere. Because it's Saturday night, I look hot and am feeling flirtatious, and I came to one of the three bars in this town. Actually, I already went to the other two, but you weren't there, so by default, I knew you were here, but I'm going to act like it was a totally casual and unplanned run-in. God, I'm smooth.

Freedom to do what I want. Sure, that means I can dance with whoever I would like on a Saturday night, but that's not important, because I much prefer to dance by myself. It means I can choose to train for a marathon, travel, work two jobs, spend my entire winter studying, pursue grad school and a more fulfilling career, and all of those decisions are much simpler because I am the only one truly affected.

Truths (According to Anna)

Tell the voices to go to Hell. Literally. Because that's where they're from. Tell them again and again and again, and they will come less and less and less.

If it's not him, it's something else. And if God closes the door to something pretty cool, than how great is what He has in store?

You can stay at the party. But you can also leave.

Being a third wheel is a skill. You have to constantly be focused, switching gears from sports to fashion to music to humor to gossip. Couples can tackle double dates 2 on 2, but you must be versatile, agile, like a double-teamed Lebron driving to the hoop. Let me tell you, my slam dunk percentage is quite high.

Smile. The world's too small for enemies, and they're not worth your mental space.

Putting yourself out there isn't so bad. I once left work to go to a guy's apartment the day before he left town to confess my feelings in a totally cool and casual way. He told me his ex-girlfriend wanted him back. I was humiliated for a second, but when you have lived with the nickname Nips Navs, you bounce back pretty quickly.
The last time I was rejected, my gesture was much less robust, but my philosophy remains: if someone is taking up space in your mind and you can't seem to turn the switch off, then do something. Chances are, he's not that into you, because otherwise he would have read your completely obvious signals and done something, but at least the switch will be off.

It's okay to not be okay. It's not okay to ignore that.

Relax. Acknowledge your desires, but enjoy the crap out of being single. Because relationships are hard, too.

If you're under 30, please don't talk about your biological clock. Maybe, don't ever talk about your biological clock. It sounds like you're involved in some type of robotic procreation.

Guys are great. They are supportive, kind, and gracious. They will laugh with you, comfort you, and push you. But it's still nice to complain about them.

The ultimate truth

Define yourself. I heard a sermon once about the disciple John. Throughout his gospel, John refers to himself as the one who Jesus loved. This was not a claim of arrogance, but an act of finding his identity in Jesus' love. We choose to define ourselves in many ways - careers, past hurts, significant others, family, money, our own strength. The list goes on, but none are ultimately fulfilling. Some may be fulfilling for awhile, but they will fade. They will disappoint. The most valuable truth I have learned the past six years is how to define myself. I am not Anna, the daughter of two wonderful parents, the aspiring ruler of the world, or the oversharing blogger. I am Anna, the one who Jesus loved.

I'm not sure what the next six years will hold. People have mentioned that business school is a viable place to meet guys, but I'm skeptical. The last b-school guy I talked to about dating used opportunity cost to make his decision on the matter. Plus, I would rather leave the experience with a baller job. At least I know there are fewer pastel shorts in the Midwest. Until then, if you would like to knock on my door and confess your feelings, my shoe size is 6.5, and I have been eyeing a pair of Jimmy Choos.


*I find it important to note here that Adrienne and Adam became two of my closest friends at RKG, and I deeply respect and enjoy both of them. I also think their spouses are lovely.

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