I’m A Serial Monogamist And I Hate Myself Because Of It


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It wasn’t even 24 hours after I dumped my now ex-boyfriend that I was out at the bars. I wore a short skirt, tall heels, and a sheer shirt that showed off the bralette that fit snuggly around my average B cups. I broke up with him because I wanted to be single; the clock was ticking on my time and college and I didn’t want to spend it being in a relationship. I wanted to be single.

I was thrilled about my new relationship status. Sure, I missed my boyfriend a bit at first, but this was a new chapter in my life. I wanted to be carefree, maybe a little flighty, and independent. Like Lorelai Gilmore before she met Luke, or Carrie Bradshaw before she married Big. It would be just like Eat, Pray, Love except instead of traveling all over the world to find myself, I’ll travel to every bar in my college town. That sounded much more fun and I didn’t even have to get any vaccines.

I walked into the bar on this particular night feeling like a new woman — a free woman. I can’t remember for sure (we had pregamed at someone’s house beforehand), but I think I literally said “come and get it, boys” like I was some sort of 1920s-era burlesque dancer. I caught the attention of a hot guy I had seen around our small college bar scene a few times. We chatted for awhile, he bought me a few drinks, and as the bars were closing down he asked if I wanted to take this party back to his place. I was so game.

I didn’t leave the bar that night thinking that I was leaving with my future boyfriend, but that’s exactly what happened. A one night stand turned into a hookup buddy that turned into a boyfriend. Two months later, we were official. I didn’t intend to go from one relationship to another, and it happened gradually, but still. It happened and now I was in yet another relationship. Don’t get me wrong, this guy was great, but I was 95 percent happy and five percent disappointed. Why?

Because this always happens to me. I am the girl who always has a boyfriend, and I absolutely hate it.

Girls who are always in relationships have a bad rap for having low standards, dependency issues, daddy issues, and a whole host of other negative attributes. Who wants to be that girl? Definitely not me, but apparently I am. And honestly, I kind of get it. It’s true, in some ways.

I don’t have a “type,” I just like someone for who they are. I’ve dated all types of people: short, tall, outgoing, introverted. I see the good in people more than the bad. I don’t think I have low standards, I just don’t think I set the bar very high because I wouldn’t want to discount someone who doesn’t meet a set of arbitrary rules. My list of fuckable celebrities consists of 48-year-old comedian Louis CK, Christoph Waltz (that old guy in every Quentin Tarantino movie), and fat Chris Pratt. Okay, so maybe my standards are low. But if I like you, then I like you, and everything else is just a workaround.

I don’t hate being alone, but if I had to pick I would rather hang out with other people, but wouldn’t most people say the same thing? I like being around people who make me happy, whether that’s friends, family, or you guessed it, a boyfriend. We are not a solitary species, and I’m no exception.

I don’t set out looking for boyfriends, as evidenced by the anecdote above — they find me. I guess there’s just something about me that screams “commitment” and “monogamy” because that’s exactly what happens when I start talking to someone new. Perpetually single girls are rolling their eyes right now, but it’s true. I’m a relationship type, whether I like it or not. It’s a blessing and a curse, this life. Part of me just wants to hit the bars and catch some strange D like every other average 18-24 year old, but then that strange D wants to stick around and make breakfast and shop at IKEA with me and I’m hooked. I’m a boyfriend girl, whether I like it or not.

Maybe the single life and I just aren’t meant to be. Or maybe I’ll end up unmarried and alone with five cats because I was boyfriend-greedy in my youth. The haters are going to say, “don’t get too cocky, no one’s asked you to marry them yet,” and I know that. I’m not looking for marriage, I just enjoy hanging out with an attractive guy who makes me laugh and doesn’t snore in his sleep. As much as I complain, I enjoy being in relationships. I don’t have to shave as often, I know the sex will always be bomb, and being cared for is a good feeling.

So I’ll continue to sit on the sidelines while I watch all my single friends navigate the treacherous college dating world. I’ll listen to their stories of one-night-stands and revel in the drama when one of them sees the guy she’s hooking up with talking to someone else. I’m happy living vicariously through my single friends, at least for now.

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