Human nature is so well disposed towards those who are in interesting situations, that a young person who either marries or dies, is sure of being kindly spoken of.
– Jane Austen, Emma
Hi. I’m Zoë and I’m single.
I’d like to think that this story began as I trudged into the turbulent journey that is your early twenties, which is when I started to feel eerily self-conscious of my lack of engagement ring (or cave man pulling me around by my hair). Amidst a sea of stepford wife wannabes, I can only compare my bare ring finger to an uncircumcised penis at a Jewish nude beach.
I get the feeling that there’s this notion going around that for some reason leaving your significant other alone in a room with a single person is the same as letting the cat into the canary cage. It’s as if they think we have these dodgy blowup voodoo dolls at home on which we place hexes while chanting a song like Natasha Bedingfield’s Single . You know because it’s been scientifically proven that people who are single have a lot more time on their hands. As if the earth, while orbiting the sun, pities us so much that she sneaks us a few hours of extra sunlight every day. As you can guess we spent this gross amount of free time attending each other’s pity parties, plotting world domination and reading all of those patronising articles about relationships our married friends passive aggressively share on Facebook. You know those with the really catchy titles like: ” 4 Things I Wish I Knew When I Was Still Single”. No offence, but if those four things aren’t
then I’ve lost all interest. Just kidding. I had no interest to begin with.
Another thing that bugs me is how my relationship status is somehow confused with my HIV status.
“Oh, you’re still single? I’ll keep you in my thoughts and prayers.”
“One day you’ll find the right one (the cure) and all of this suffering will be worth it.”
One day I’ll be able to hear these types of sentiments without wanting to punch you in the face, but until then I guess I’ll just write some passive aggressive posts of my own.