Why I don't want a boyfriend

Saying the quiet part out loud.

photo by Joy Newell

“As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman thinking.” -Virginia Woolf

Dear reader,

My relationship to men is changing. Whether this shift is general, or will extend into my personal life, it’s too soon to tell. I can confirm that male validation, or whether men desire me or not, is finally wholly uninteresting. And the more men want my time, the more I want my solitude, nature, my work, and my friendships.

Without notice, it’s as if the rose-colored glasses for my own Prince Charming fell off of my head, and I don’t know where they went. Awakenings have happened before, but this time, I’m not the least bit concerned with what it takes to put the glasses back on.

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I’ve been dating men for twenty years. I’ve merged lives with brooding musicians, flamboyant jocks, hard-working farmers, single dads, tortured professors, treehouse builders, and award-winning chefs. I tried to love these men for who they were, and not for what they did, but it was impossible. Their actions towards love were clouded by ego, coercion, control, dominance, manipulation, self-loathing, reactivity, weaponized incompetence, and cowardice. With one exception, I don’t remember any of them taking the time to sit still, self-reflect, or even jot some thoughts down in a journal.

Currently, I see multiple generations of men who haven’t done any inner work, and generations of women who have done all of it. Men can barely look at themselves, and women are taught to look too much. This disparity is sad for everyone involved, but because of it, I rarely feel the benefits of the “love” men try to offer me, especially when compared to the nourishment and deep intimacy provided by my friendships with everyone else.

It turns out that love starts with the self, and it requires courage, attention, and devotion. Deeply loving someone, and being loved by them in return, requires radically loving ourselves. In my experience, most men don’t even like themselves. It’s no wonder I don’t really feel their love.

photo by Joy Newell