I can see a loser coming....

…From a mile away

I don’t know what you would call it. A sixth sense maybe? I swear to God I can size any guy up within minutes of talking to them and/or watching them interact with other people. I don’t consider myself to be the type of person who purposefully looks for faults in other people. Nor do I consider myself a ‘man-hater’ as some of my friends may jokingly accuse. I just think that I can see through the bullshit. I don’t see this as a fault as some of my friends may say, but as a gift.

I am constantly being razzed for setting my standards too high. Hearing jokes being made (in good spirit, but still) about how I’m on the verge of turning gay, or that I’m going to be an old reclusive cat lady. I’ve been single for nearly three years now and well-intentioned friends are constantly trying to set me up. This may seem like a good thing, but it’s not.

For various reasons every guy that has tried to ‘woo’ me just hasn’t quite made the cut. They may have been too awkward or maybe too suave. Maybe they tried too hard; maybe they didn’t try hard enough. Maybe they were too short/tall, fat/skinny or maybe they just talked about their car too much. Maybe they had a crumb on their lip the whole night and all I could think about was why they didn’t feel the crumb on their lip and remove it FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!

Regardless of the reason I chose to give my friend (who did the setting up) who anxiously awaits my ‘report’, the true reason is that I know that pursuing any of these guys would be a waste of my time. They are all loser(it’s not their fault they’re young and stupid and totally clueless about what’s really important in life)! I can see through them and their b.s. and I refused to be duped. After the first couple of ‘set ups’ which I courteously declined I started to get the rep of miss snooty pants. My friends insist my standards are too high. I will never find anyone with my current expectations and that I need to lower my standards or I will be a crazy cat lady, yada yada yada.

Personally I don’t think the issue is my standards. I think it’s more complex than that. Yes I have high standards and I’m damn proud of them. I feel empowered to know that at the ripe age of 22 (almost 23…8 more days and no, I don’t give a shit that I’m getting a new president for my birthday this year. Not when my choices are between a douche bag and a giant turd sandwich) I am perfectly content to be single and focused on getting to know myself as well as raising my daughter to the best of my ability. I am completely dependent on myself only, which is the greatest feeling in the world, and I answer to nobody.

I guess I feel that if it was just myself I would have a lot more room for error in my choices as far as getting into a relationship. Trial and error isn’t really that big of a deal when you are the only one who suffers. I try really hard to learn from other people’s mistakes and I have been witness to several of my single parent friends finding themselves in and out of relationships or stuck in destructive ones. They don’t want to be alone, and I understand that, but what about the kids? The kids are getting attached to each of these significant others. The kids are learning from us what a relationship is and how it’s suppose to work and although it’s inadvertent they are being taught instability as a result of those choices being made regarding relationships and intimacy.

So my retort to my friends who say I’m a cat lady in training, who say my standards are too high and I’ll never find anyone who can make the cake (bake the cake? Take the cake? Meet the cake? Eat the cake? Whatever!) is this: my standards for myself are NOT too high however, my expectations for the standard in which my daughter will live is extremely high. My standards for the amount of love my daughter will receive is also extremely high. The standard for the person I choose to be a male figure to my daughter is extremely high, and no amount of nagging, bashing, teasing or scaring me into believing I’ll be alone forever will change that. Not in a million years. Not for a million dollars. Never.