rackers co

One of my best gals and I can talk underwater about nothing and everything. We’ve had extensive conversations about cockroaches in our homes, to itchy legs after exercise, to boys and the need we don’t have for them.

We’re the token perpetually single friends and we’re fucking sick of being asked why we don’t have boyfriends.

I sat down and opened google – thinking, for once, maybe it would help to do a little research for this piece. I typed in ‘why don’t you have a boyfriend‘ – and the results were astonishing. Not in a good way. Post, after post, stating what habits are preventing you and what you need to change.
“20 reasons why…”
“5 reasons why…”
“Why am I single? quiz.”
“Take this quiz to find out why you don’t have a guy… And what it’ll take to get one.”

Like are you actually KIDDING?
Plain and simple, majority of the time I am being asked this question is because I am a female. Females are supposed to want to settle down. Just like females are supposed to have long hair. (Whoops, two strikes, one more and I’m out of the dating game 5eva.)

Amidst this ‘research’, I found an article that had a point saying, ‘Grow your hair out – the importance of not having short hair for communicating physical and mental stability.’
I don’t know if the pure anger I felt when I read that was because I felt personally attacked, (I genuinely wanted to punch the writer in the face, possibly proving their mental stability joust right), but seriously, the fuck? Do we still live in the 1800s?

Why don’t you have a boyfriend? Is it because you won’t follow ridiculous social conformities that the internet endorses?

I guess it gets to a point in someone’s life where people start to think, does she ever have a boyfriend? Imaginations run wild, people start to think up this wonderful little slutty life that you must live, where you can do, say, be what you want, all because you are single.

Frankly, my dear, if you cannot do, say, or be, what you want while you are in a relationship, you are doing it wrong and you should run for the hills now.

I’ve met very few people in life I could see something with. And, obviously, when I have met some people I’ve liked enough to keep around, they don’t see something with me. And don’t you understand how okay that is? Who wants someone who doesn’t fully, truly, heart-achingly want you back?

I have been blessed with the most incredible support system anyone could ever ask for; a close, funny, puts-each-other-first family, friends who know me inside and out and incredibly still want to hang out with me, mentors and everyday heroes who have helped the shy, must-hide-behind-mums-legs-at-all-times young girl blossom into the weird, outspoken, all-encompassing emotional love bucket she is today.

And I am proud to say that I didn’t need a man to help me come to this point in my life. And nor should you.

I cared once, that I was ‘the single one’. About 5-7 years ago. That was before I became so unapologetically comfortable in my own skin.

Living in Sydney for close to a year, people back home knew very little as to my love life (albeit knowing a lot from my insta-presence). I liked it that way. It was refreshing, going on a date, meeting someone out, talking to tinder baes, knowing they didn’t know people back home and word wouldn’t run around. But the moment I came back home and had a (fucking blast) weekend in Shorty’s, I was countlessly asked if I had a boyfriend loyally waiting for me back in Sydney. No, I laughed, waving them off, I don’t need a boyfriend.

But why?

Said galfriend of mine has had the same situations, particularly with loved-up couples within a certain group of hers. She constantly has people suggest ‘Oh, bae and I will find a single friend of his for you.’
She’ll laugh and say, ‘thanks, but no thanks,’ and sincerely mean it.
God forbid they take her seriously, though. Because how could you possibly be happy when you’re all alone?

We had a good laugh as we were going over old crushes of ours, or unrequited crushes (us being the unrequiters) from school days, and how different things were to be, had they ever worked out. How utterly glad we are that they didn’t.

Who’s to say we would have travelled the world as much as we have, even become as close as we have, if we had someone else taking up our time and attention?

And that, too, was a big point; we enjoy being selfish as fuck and doing whatever the hell we want (as long as our bank account allows us to). Plus the thought of someone joining us on our lazy Sundays, makeupless, pantsless, socially unacceptably stewing in our own grossness, is just too horrible to bare.

I think a big part about those who ask is that they know we’re actually secretly (not so secretly) hopeless romantics. We are also cynical critics. It probably also doesn’t help how ridiculously picky we are.

We are only 23 years old. We have a multitude of years to make the god-awful decision of who we spend the rest of our lives with.

We’re the token perpetually single friends and we’re fucking sick of being asked why we don’t have boyfriends.

Maybe we could ask you: why do you have a boyfriend? 

The day will come. For now, I think we’ll stick to the endless love that we find in each other, our books, and of course, dogs.

Good luck to our future suitors anyway. (Sassy gal emoji).

Until next time.
Your single gal, rack daddy