The Tranquil Vintessa

Something is stirring in the dating world. We as women are becoming happily single. I know, shocking.

We’ve begun repairing and building happy relationships with other women, creating a life that doesn’t need a partner. As we embrace solo life, we’ve begun asking: why am I dating again? Why am I going out with a guy I kinda don’t like or trust for a meal that I can afford to buy myself, and I could be eating braless?

Well, because you can’t always fuck yourself, babe.

No, but seriously, why are we still dating? What’s the point if we are happy at home?

I can’t give you one clear answer, but I can give you a line I was told when I was speaking to an older woman with many friends. She was reminiscing about an old friend she had and said offhandedly, “It’s good to keep people. You’ll need someone to do life with.”

That line hit me.

I’m a loner by nature. I like having people in my life, but I’ve grown used to having no one around. I was fine. I still think you can be fine with a small circle, but within that circle, you have to have people to do life with. Someone you can call when you have good news. Someone to push you to see things differently, to laugh and cry with, and to take care of you when you’re sick.

That last one haunts me when I think about being single forever.

I think about the episode of Sex and the City when Samantha, a woman who knows everyone, got sick and everyone was busy. She called her hookups, but because there was no relationship, no one came to help. She had no one to do life with despite having a large group of friends and lovers.

I also think of the real-life story of an older woman I know who is not sick, but who is older and single. Who, yes, has friends, but when her dog died, no one was around to fill that empty spot on the bed or fill her house with life on those still nights.

I think about myself when I have a nightmare and wake up in a sweat, panicking. Yes, I can comfort myself, but these are the small little moments of life where your friends aren’t there. They have separate lives and different goals, and are sleeping. They’re in your life, and you can do life with them, but not all of life.

We romanticize the idea of female friendships being built around foreverness. We fantasize about the ladies in sitcoms who are always there for every event and every moment in each other’s lives, but they don’t show you what happens when the show is over. They don’t always show the small things that get in the way of bonding, like work, distance, or different stages of life. Kids are beautiful, but they can become obstacles when all your friends are childfree, or when they all have kids and you’re childfree. There are certain things you just won’t understand about each other’s lives. And there are parts you’ll miss while building your own.

You date to find your person. You leave your house and get dressed to find someone to be vulnerable with. We keep trying because when the lights turn off, the show ends, and the thoughts creep in, you have someone beside you who knows all of you, the good, the bad, and the ugly, and still wants to be there in the darkness with you.

We leave the predictability of solo living and our beautifully decorated apartments to find someone who adds beauty to our lives, and we add joy to theirs. Someone, again, to do life with. Not just the aesthetically pleasing parts. Not just someone you update when your schedules meet, but someone who is there through all the little bits that your friends might miss.

I’m not trying to make it seem like you have to date. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.

But if you’re wondering why I, a happily single woman who doesn’t want kids or a husband in the traditional sense, is still on the apps, still gets dressed, and still goes out despite being hurt time and time again, it’s because at the end of the day, I want people to do life with.

And I want to find my person.

Someone who sees the darkness in me and says, “I have a flashlight.” Someone I can hold when they’re sad and say, “I have your sun.” And someone who, when I’m horny, can dick me down like I like.

It’s just someone to do every bit of life with.