It’s another Saturday, meaning a new post comes out. For you guys tomorrow, for me, that means getting my fab a** to write it on a Saturday night.
Saturday nights are sort of ritualistic to me now, thanks to this blog and thanks to you guys who actually read my Sunday rants. So, thanks for giving me an extra reason to write.
To be honest, the minute I wrote the tittle (maybe that’s my problem with tittles, I first write them then I write the post) I got up and I thought: “Hold up, momma needs a glass of wine for this one”. Because yes, I am a Karen, if you didn’t know that already. And a Karen needs her white, musk whine.
So, I saw what we have at home, and a shiny bottle of Pinot (read pino, not pinot y’all) Grigio was calling my name, like it’s meant to be. So here I am, writing on a Saturday night, listening to Amy Winehouse and drinking Pinot Grigio. Life is perfect. Or is it?
It’s cuffing season and if you don’t know what that means, here’s a slight translation, Soph-style: It basically means it’s the most romantic time of the year where you get most depressed because of the weather and because you’re 30 (I’m not) and single and have no one to roam the streets while you get showered with snowflakes.
So, women (AND MEN!!!) feel super lonely. Guess who else feels lonely? *does finger guns pointed to herself* THIS GUYY. Yes, it’s my favorite time of the year (hell yeah I’m a winter baby :P) and it’s snowing, and it’s the perfect time to snuggle up and cuddle, while listening to Sinatra. But, there’s no candidate for that.
And of course, raised on the Balkans, my first thought is: OMG I’m going to die alone with a sh*t tone of cats by my side at the age of 80 and they’re probs going to eat my dead body. Yes, growing up on the Balkans is a story of its own.
Part of that story is the fact my grandma held my hand on my 17th birthday saying: “Oh sweetie, you’re 17 now! I got married when I was 17.” Being the anxious 17-year old, being in a long distance relationship for 4 years at that point, severely depressed and conquering social anxiety, I quickly removed my hand, as if that was gonna make her “bad” words go away. And I just said: “Good for you grandma. I’m going to have a career.”
As any older Balkan women ever, she got frightened from my words, did her “mantras” to make MY “bad” words go away and she wished I’d marry sooner.
So, yes ever since a kid, I’ve been brainwashed to think that marriage is not only the solution to all the problems, but If I don’t marry, I failed myself, my family and everyone I know. Or what the hell am I going to do, when all my friends get married? (answer: enjoy a pinot grigio and travel, duh)
And being the rebel, we all know I am, I am still against this idea. Buuuuuuuut. I, as every other person ever, get lonely. And y’all know we all want someone to warm our bed.
But here’s the story and evolution on the idea of bed warming:
I got into my first “serious” “relationship” (nope it’s not a typo, yes it’s air quotes) at the age of 13. We were together for 5 years. Through it all, he showed me not only unconditional love, but we actually thought we’d get married. I mean, it’s only logical after being together for so long. He even made me fall for the idea of love even harder.
You know, the first-thing-in-the-morning-texting, the surprise visits, tutti di amore. And then we peacefully broke up, understanding that we’re just on a different path in life – he was going to stay in Macedonia and I already got accepted into Ljubljana.
It didn’t hurt after 5 years. I wasn’t sad. So, logically, I started searching for a new man who could fulfill my fantasies the way he did. And being super insecure and having almost 0 character, you could’ve said I was desperate to replace him. Yet, every single guy that came my way at that time, was compared to him. And it was never enough. Because no guy is the same, and trust me when I say that’s a good thing.
Then something else happened. Out of nowhere, I meet this guy, of course back in Macedonia and we fell madly and deeply in love. So deep, we both basically drowned in our own love.
And it was perfect, it was more than I ever wanted, and by that time I stopped comparing men to my ex. So, he was my new ideal man. Until he wasn’t. 6 months later. Why? What happened? Simple. We weren’t meant to be.
Him, a passive man with no voice of his own too afraid to make decisions and me – a fierce woman who not only knows what she wants in life, ain’t silent and severely dominant. Of course, you cannot make it work.
It took me 2 freakin’ years to get over his sweet a**. Not because he was too darn cute, but because he was innocent in all the senses of the word. Because it wasn’t his fault. For the first time ever I didn’t date a bad boy, a boy who was bad for me in any way whatsoever. My parents loved him. He got along with my friends just awesome and I kinda did with his. After all, he was the best friend of my best friend. Just 6 months later it all fell apart.
And guess what happened? I turned into a bitter old nag for 2 years. And then, being the determined fierce b*tch I am, I decided to get back into the saddle.
So a new “prince” showed up. Showered me with attention, gifts and for the first time ever, he was an equal to me. Dominant, at times arrogant, a man who easily forgives and loves to have fun. The problem? (and of course, there’s always a problem)
Too shallow and we both didn’t want a relationship. I never connected with him, never spent a lot of time together. Never texted “just to hear his voice”, poisoned by the idea that love hurts and the further me and my emotions stay away, the better. I was still wrecked from 2 years ago and I didn’t want throw someone through my pain and hurt and he got out of a super serious relationship and needed a breather.
It was the perfect ensemble, like you know the feeling when you’re looking for the perfect shoes to go with your dress and you find them in the back of the closet? That’s how well we matched.
And it ended. No pain, no anything – which basically, was the overall problem. And whoop, suddenly ya girl was single again.
So, what now? On to the next adventure but of course! Let’s find another good man, there must be more, right? Yep.
So, I went back to meeting men. I met this guy who was awesome, but his head was a mess and suddenly one morning out of the blue he said “he cant do this, whatever it is”.And I was done. Funny, when I take a look back, all my exes were men who should definitely see a therapist – my first one was incredibly toxic, a playboy of some sorts, an egomaniac, my second one had no self-esteem whatsoever and my third one was just mean and he oppressed his feelings. It’s like I have this thing for emotionally unstable men my whole life.
Then, I hit a huge crisis, because it was so pretty outside and I had no hand to hold. So, I talked to a good friend of mine who basically said:
“Soph we both know I know you for a long time now. You are picky. You’re not cold or cynical and no, Slovenia did not turn you into this new person you claim to be. You just painted over your character. Stop doing that. You’re nice, you care about people and you show them that. You’re vulnerable and soft. So stop being a b*tch and act like the real you. Be picky.
As long as I’ve known you, you pick out men, with who deep down you know it’s never going to work out, so you can convince yourself that you’re cold and not worth it etc. Stop it. Stop searching for a guy you know ain’t right for you.”
Another good friend, noticing how eager I was to get a man back in my life, said: “Soph, you are a fierce lady, who knows exactly what she does in life. But you have no idea what you want in the love department. You have your priorities in order, you are kicking a** in the professional world, but sweetie you’re completely confused when it comes to men. You want a relationship or just company? You want a dominant man or a passive one? You don’t know. And plus, you’re scaring men away by saying you don’t need them ‘you just want them’. Men are simple creatures and like us women, they have the need to feel needed too. You scare men away, girl. “
And then I though about it – it’s men’s fault if they feel intimidated by me, but that I am not sure what I really want, that’s very true. So, I suddenly stopped. I deleted my Tinder and just stopped focusing on men altogether.
And here I am. Single as pringle, sipping on Pinot Grigio, listening to Amy Winehouse’s “Stronger than me” thinking about all of this. Thinking I need “me” time, I am spending 10 months of 2020 travelling, I am in no position to ask or to be with someone, not physically, not mentally. And time and time again that thesis proves correct.
Yes, my bed is cold and empty, but now that I think about it, I’d rather leave it like that, than have a little man rug (my before-last ex) or disrespectful man (you guessed it – my last one). I’d rather open my Grigios by myself and carry my own groceries (because I buy once a month and buy the whole store while I am at it) and I’d rather wear that sparkly cleavaged dress for a New Year’s party than a dinner date with someone who is just not right for me.
After the afore-mentioned 2 years ago breakup, my therapist said to me: “Soph, you have to understand. It’ not your fault you guys broke up. It’s not his either. You just weren’t compatible and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
And from there on, I try not to think like it’s my fault, because even when it’s not I have a tendency to blame myself.
And because of all the things I wrote before, I came up with the single girl’s manifesto: It doesn’t make me weak that I am single. Because I don’t have a man by my hand, doesn’t mean I’m less worthy as a woman. If I’m single it doesn’t mean you should set me up with your friends. It doesn’t mean I’m desperate. And I AINT SCARING MEN AWAY. It’s their problem if they can’t handle a strong woman.
I’m so done apologizing for being strong and powerful. For wanting a career before kids. And if someone has a problem, he/she can solve it by themselves, coz it ain’t mine. And I’m so done with being a therapist to men. You don’t pay me to listen and solve your problems, so why the f*ck should I?! Go getcha own therapist, boy. I, for sure ain’t one.
I’m going to enjoy my grigio and my cookies. I’m taking my me time. I’m traveling.
And plus, call me when you find a man who’s going to enjoy watching me read a book and do my home spa or sit in the tub alone for 4 hours. Because honey, it ain’t one.
Ladies, being single don’t mean jack sh*t. It means you’re aware of who you are and waiting (or not!!!)on the right man to see your qualities and even if you want no man, say no to Balkan stereotypes and own a bunch of cats or dogs if it’s how you roll. No judgement.
We live in a time where stereotypes are starting to break. Where the idea of marriage and having kids isn’t the point of life (ha, we all know the point of life is 42) and where you’re “ALLOWED” to have a different meaning than that.
Sure it’s going to upset your Balkan parents. Sure you’re going to get called different names by snakes (read: women) and men. But that doesn’t mean your gut isn’t right.
Break the ideas of the “idea”.
And me? Oh, me and my pringle are going to continue ranting on Saturdays over a glass of Grigio and I ain’t gonna lie – I do want a man, but obviously I’m not ready for one. Til then, I’mma rant on a 1000 more topics. And I’m never going to be afraid of who I am.
Always loud, always brutally honest and foremost, always yours,