Fuck the Fairy Tale – Love in the 21st Century

Dear Buttons,

How long do I have to be single before it’s required that I seriously consider (a) lesbianism, or(b) becoming a spinster who will be eaten by her cats?

-On My Own


Dear On My,

Guuuuuurl two things, 1. Aint’ nothin’ wrong with having some cats. 2. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with lickin some…ice cream off your spoon cause you’re alone at home with the afore mentioned cats.

Really though, here’s the thing re: lesbianism, would finding a lady-mate be any easier than finding a man-mate? Cause last time I checked love is love, and life-long love is hard to find regardless of whether you’re lookin’ for a man, a woman, a womyn, or a merman….mmmm…merman (not to be confused with Morman. They are very different things.). I don’t mean to be discouraging. I too am of the single variety, and the longer I’m out in the ring, the less likely it seems that I’ll one day be wearing one, but I’m gonna go ahead and get a little radical up in here:

What if we go ahead and say “fuck the fairy tale”? I’m not talking in some sort of angry, negative, “love stinks” kind of way. What I’m saying is that, as we’re all super aware, the success rate for most marriages in the US is not super excellent, and I think that’s because marriage (or even life-long non-marital monogamy) doesn’t make sense for a lot of people, and yet we’re all taught that that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

I’ll be the first to admit that I love being in love. Being in love is lovely, but I’ll also admit that I have loved many people who I knew were never going to be my “life-partner”. Just because those relationships “failed”, does that mean that they were a waste of time? To this I say “fuck no”. Does it also mean that the time I spent being single and mackin’ on some super hot people (men and women and womyn and mermen oh my!) was a waste of time? To this I also say “fuck no”. And FURTHERMORE, does this mean that the time I spent chillin’ with my cat, watching Parks and Rec, and eating Gummy Colas for dinner was a waste of time? This here is my BIGGEST “FUCK NO!”.

And now for my modest proposal (don’t worry, no Irish baby eatin’ in this one): what if we looked at our lives, and the time we spend with various partners, as well as the time we spend on our own, as the goal. All of it. The goal is not a live-in boyfriend that looks like Ryan Gossling and makes love like he’s playing Haydn on your hoo-ha. The goal is not a 50 year marriage in which you both die in each other’s arms at the exact same moment like that super sweet old couple in Titanic. The goal is not a series of super steamy affairs that leave you gushing about your “LOVERS” like Will Ferrell and Rachel Dratch. The goal is not the peace and confidence that comes from being truly happy alone (especially if you have good snacks and a Netflix account). The goal is all of these things, in whatever way they arrange themselves in your unique romantic life.

Everyone’s love-life plays out differently, so why are we all chasing the same damn thing? Gurrrrrl. That just don’t make no sense.

And people are all “what about children/procreation/bla bla bla”, but here’s the deal, I’ve had more than enough panicked trips to the Duane Reade© for an EPT© and a package of Peanut M&Ms© to know that you def don’t need to be in a committed relationship to make a little whoops-a-baby (thankfully all my whoops-a-baby scares turned into “thank god here’s my period but now I need new pants” moments, but you get the point). I also know that families don’t have to look like they once looked. It takes a village people, but what that village looks like doesn’t necessarily have to equal mom + dad + sassy black nanny (omg The Help! Watch it on a Gummy Cola night. You’ll cry your FACE OFF!).

I want kids, but if I don’t meet my Ryan Gossling it ain’t no thing. I have met my Taye Diggs, my Javier Bardem, my Salma Hayek, and my Bill Clinton (that’s right…don’t judge me, he was divorced), so I think I’m doin’ pretty alright. I can have kids. I can adopt them, or I can get one of my gay friends drunk and convince him to “try girls…just this once” (we all saw how well this worked out for Madonna in the 90′s), or I can pay one of my poor but smart friends to jizz in a turkey baster and then practice some handstands in my bathtub.

The point is, I’m gonna go rogue on this shit and say my love life (and yours too) is exactly what it should be, even if at the moment it’s comprised of mostly you, Ben, Jerry, and Jerry.

Go forth young lover. Kiss a lady if that’s what feels right. But don’t do anything cause you feel like you have to do something.

You is kind, you is smart, you is important, and you is exactly where you should be.

-Buttons

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