Confessions of a Single Female Ogre

Answers to the question: "Why are you still single?" Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I'm an ogre.

     “I can't believe you're single.” These five words seem to follow me around wherever I go. I hear them from people I have just met, people I'm reconnecting with, and family members I haven't talked to in a while. Depending on who is making the statement, it can be translated several ways:

      “You're a healthy, good-looking person, so why aren't you dating?”

      “What's wrong with the guys in North Carolina that one hasn't staked his claim on you yet?”

      “You're getting old. Isn't it about time you settle down, get married?”

      “What's wrong with you? Are you incapable of having a healthy relationship with someone?”

      I don't generally spend a lot of time reflecting on why I'm single, because it's not my favorite topic. Who wants to waste time thinking about why they're alone while everyone else is paired up with someone? It's more productive to clean the house, do laundry, read a good book, watch a movie, write stories about other folks living happily ever after, or spend time with friends. But lately, I've been doing some heavy thinking about why I'm single.

     Let me just state, for the record, that I have not been single my whole life. I am not one of those gals who decides in her youth that relationships suck and I want to be alone forever. I never wanted to live a life of solitude or celibacy. In fact, my girlhood dream was to get married, have kids, write books, and live happily ever after. That was literally the extent of my answer for “What do you want to do when you grow up?” I knew I wanted to share my life with someone special from a very early age.

      I had many childhood companions who were boys. I pretended to marry several of them. Boys were easy to get along with, low-maintenance, and interesting. My best memories include boys. To this day, most of my best friends are guys. They are just so easy to hang out with and talk to. Things don't get complicated until the “just friends” line is crossed. As soon as romance, love, and sex enter the picture, everything changes. Jealousy, possessiveness, and insecurity creep in and wreak havoc on what had once been a happy relationship.

      This leads me to Reason Number One for why I'm single: I don't want to risk ruining a good thing by trying to “take it to the next level.” There is a certain familiar comfort that surrounds a guy-girl friendship. Because there is a mutual understanding that what we have is platonic, false pretenses fall by the wayside. The guys are free to be themselves, with all their gross habits, immature lingo, and embarrassing insecurities fully visible to me. And I don't have to pretend to be someone who has it all together, who never spends any time in the bathroom, or disguise what I'm feeling, even if it's ugly. The conversations I have with these guys are open, honest, and generally disgusting. If anyone were to eavesdrop on some of these heart-to-hearts, they'd most likely be shocked by the candid topics being thrown around like a volleyball. The point is, I like what I have with my special dudes. I can't imagine dating any of them, because they know too much about “the real me” and I know more about them than I ever cared to. Romance and sex would just feel “weird.”

       Here's what happens when I meet a guy who peaks my curiosity: I find out what his interests are, what he likes (and doesn't like), and see if we have anything in common. Then, if I like what I discover, I make myself available to him. I smile a lot, flirt, listen attentively, respond to his signals. My goal is to capture his attention with my charm and alluring qualities. Therefore, all the parts of me that I don't like �" traits he might find repulsive �" are kept under wraps. In a nutshell, I make him fall for the lovely part of me (what I call the Wonder Woman within) while hiding the ugly, ogre-y part.

      Reason Number Two for staying single: I don't want anyone I date to see the ugly part of me. It's not just vanity that makes me want to hide my inner ogre. It's fear. My guy friends know the ogre exists. My family is acquainted with her. Even my kids have seen her. They accept that I'm cursed with the magic spell of imperfection. But, just like Fiona in the movie Shrek, I don't want a guy who might be able to “break the spell” to know about the hideous side of me. If they saw the ogre, they might run away screaming.

      Hiding the ogre side of me has inevitably kept me from having healthy, wholesome dating relationships. Trust cannot thrive in a partnership where there are secrets. The healthiest, happiest relationship I ever had with a boy was in the fifth grade. (Go ahead and roll your eyes. It's okay.) Charles Williamson was the first boy who asked me to “go with” him. We met in Band class. He played the saxophone, I played the clarinet. We had been assigned seats next to each other. Even though we were in different fifth grade classrooms, we had plenty of time to see one another in Band and at Recess. After he found out where I lived, he would ride his bike over to see me.

      At that point, it didn't matter that I didn't look like a Cover Girl model. I was just a kid. I spent my time reading books, writing stories, climbing trees, catching frogs, and riding my bike. I didn't care about what I wore, how my body looked, or whether I was cool. Life was simple. Charles liked me and I liked him, so we became boyfriend and girlfriend. We met in the park every chance we got, we sat together, and we held hands. Holding hands showed the rest of the world that we were “together.” It was a serious gesture of affection for two little kids. We never kissed or “played doctor.” He wasn't like some of the other boys I knew who were obsessed with girls' bodies, sexuality, or “experimenting.” He was about as gentlemanly as a fifth grade boy could get. Our relationship was pure, innocent, and delightful. We were two people who shared a mutual attraction, but never tainted or tarnished it with self gratification, hidden motives, or lust. That's why it was so healthy, and it is something I have never again experienced in a dating relationship.

      When I hit puberty, I fully expected to turn into a bombshell. While most of my girl friends were starting to fill out ladies' bras, curve in all the right places, and evolve into women, my appearance stayed that of a thirteen year old's. This was a traumatic disappointment. I had been anticipating the pubescent bodily changes like a preschooler on Christmas Eve. I was Fiona, fully expecting to be transformed from ogre to beautiful princess with true love's kiss. But, apparently, my “true form” was not to be that of a supermodel. Lucky for Fiona, Shrek was big-time “into” the ogre version of Fiona. I didn't think I'd be that fortunate.

      Reason Number Three for why I'm single: What if my prince is not “into” ogres? In other words, what if he sees my true form and doesn't like it? When I did not outgrow the measurements of a thirteen year old girl's, I realized that I could not count on a guy to want to be with me for my body. Therefore, I would have to work twice as hard to capture his attention and keep it. I would not have big b***s and voluptuous curves working in my favor. I would have to snag him with my hair, my eyes, and a winning personality. So, that's what I focused on �" my assets, my Wonder Womanly attributes.

      This is how the adolescent mind thinks: “I have to be beautiful on the outside if anyone is ever going to love me.” Now, in my heart, I knew that this was faulty logic. During my childhood, I'd been loved by many people solely because of who I was as a person. None of my friendships, or my relationship with Charles, had been based on my outward appearance. But something had changed inside of me during puberty. The devastating disappointment in myself for not becoming what I'd always dreamed of (a Daisy Duke look alike) had drastically altered my self esteem. Insecurity overwhelmed me. I hated my reflection... and if I hated it, so would everyone else.

      So I learned to evolve. Derek was a surfer who wanted a beach babe by his side, so that is what I became. Joey wanted a Playboy Centerfold party girl, so that's what I turned into for him. Brad wanted a girl who was into classic cars and rock music, so I became fascinated with what went on under the hood of a car and in rock bands. With every guy I loved, I became his “fantasy girl.” As long as I hid my real self, they had nothing to complain about. I was the best girlfriend they'd ever had. But it got to the point that I honestly didn't know who I was �" the real me �" anymore. I learned the hard way that a relationship can't survive on dishonesty. A healthy partnership requires two people who are willing to strip away the fake and phony outer layer to reveal the authentic self. It means standing in front of each other, ogre to ogre.

      It's a scary thought, standing completely exposed in front of someone. It means making yourself vulnerable, and vulnerability terrifies me. I like to feel safe. I like to feel in control. The idea of letting a guy see me naked, inside and out, is my idea of a nightmare come true. How could any guy look at me �" green, warty skin and ogre-y personality �" and think, “Hubba, hubba, baby. I want to spend the rest of my life with you”? The only Person who knows me that intimately is God. I have never allowed anyone to know me the way He does. The fear of rejection is too great to risk with any ogre-fearing human. I'm not sure I'm willing to devote the time to finding out if there is an ogre-loving man out there. And I'm too tired, too sick of games, to keep pretending I'm more Wonder Woman than ogre.

      Which brings me to Reason Number Four for why I'm single: Dating is too much trouble! Seriously, the time, money, energy, and drama that accompanies dating seems like more hassle than it's worth. Somehow, it all feels futile �" like investing in something you're only renting for a short time, but will have to eventually return or give back when you're done with it. If I'm going to put my whole heart and soul into someone, I want to be certain that person is worth it. I don't want to look back and regret the days, hours, or dollars I've put into them.

     I'm pretty comfortable being alone. Life is fairly predictable, I have my daily routine, my independence, my personal space. I am accountable to no one accept God. I don't have to look good for anyone but myself, don't have to share my bed, my house, or my body with a guy. It's so nice! Sure, there are times when I miss companionship, romance, and sex, but since I've never been pampered or spoiled by the guys I dated, it's not too much of a sacrifice. Why would I want to give up my freedom for some guy who is just going to clutter my bachelorette lifestyle?

      So, I've just decided not to date. It keeps life simple, and I love simplicity. BUT... if I ever do go out on a date with a guy again, I've already planned it out: I'm gonna sit across from the table from him, smile sweetly, and say, “Look, let's just cut to the chase. I'm an ogre. If you're not into ogres, just say it and let's be done with it, here and now. No sense in us wasting any time on pleasantries and mindless chit chat.” If he looks relieved, I'll know I've found a kindred ogre. If he freaks out, I will have saved myself a lot of trouble. After all, life is too short to pretend you're something you're not. I would rather be a genuine ogre who is single than a phony princess in a fake relationship.