This Valentine’s Day I’d like to share a few things with you. I’m 19 years old and:
I have never had sex in my life
I have never dated anyone in real life (so not on the Internet)
I have never kissed anyone
I have never been on a date
I have never even held hands with someone romantically
I literally have never even been close to dating anyone in real life
Not because I don’t want to or because I’m picky. Because no one has ever asked me out or showed affection for me or even flirted with me. I don’t think anyone irl has ever fancied me, or if they did they never let me know in any way.
And you know what? I don’t care. I moved on from feeling abnormal and broken and not whole. I refuse to connect my value as a person to those things. I will not allow myself to think of myself as less because I have never done any of those things. Yes maybe my self-esteem still relies on my uni grades or good reviews of my works but I finally stopped thinking that there is something wrong with me for not experiencing those things.
I feel happy and whole anyway. I survived every crush who didn’t return my feelings and every instance of being attracted to someone and knowing they do not like me back. I survived and moved on.
And today I’d like you to turn to things you really value in your life. Your jobs and talents and hobbies and passions. Your family and friends and pets and even house plants. Your favorite books and bands and TV-shows and video games. Your favorite ice-cream and favorite pair of jeans and favorite plush toys.
There are so many people and things you love. There are, I hope, things that make you happy. Focus on them. And screw the society that tells you that you need relationships to know that you are loved. You are already loved. Don’t let society ever persuade you otherwise.
My best friend is sick, it’s leukemia. And you know before she got sick when I’d see her name on caller ID, I’d be excited. You know, I’d be like what bar are we hitting? Or what happened with that guy she was crushing on? And now I see it, and I just think like, oh God, what’s wrong now? You know? I’m just, I’m scared all of the time. And of course, I mean, I can’t tell her any of that cause I just want her to get better. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.
Last few hours have been spent cleaning, which I really shouldn’t because fuck the landlord and his son that ALMOST RAN OVER MY SPOUSE AFTER SLIPPING AND FALLING ON THE GIANT SLAB OF ICE (I had to run out of my car and fucking STOP HIM BECAUSE HE KEPT BACKING UP IN HIS TRUCK), but a lot of it is stuff that I wanted to get done this weekend so it’s a good thing to sort of cross a bunch of shit off that list.
But I’m going through the apartment and I’m p sure there’s like 10 different health code violations that maybe I’ll contact the housing authority after we’re out.