‘Single’ is the new ‘Taken’ means exactly what it sounds like.
This blog may sound confusing, but I promise you, if you stick it out, you may come to find that I make a few valid points. So, let’s do it!
I have a confession.
*cue hushed whispers*
Yeah, I said it, a CONFESSION!
am a serial relationshipist. (Remember that word, you’ll see it again. Take that Mirriam Webster!)
And so are you.
Yes, I’m talking about you. You with the phone in hand reading this on a mobile site, sitting in a McDonald’s sucking up their free Wi-Fi. You sitting behind the computer desk with papers scattered everywhere, praying that the end of the day comes quickly.
We are all serial relationshipists.
I realize that word sounds a lot like something else, i.e. Rapist, but not even close to the same thing.
What I mean by serial relationshipist (kinda a tongue twister the more you say it) is that none of us are ever really single.
In a technology-dependent world, we have constant, steady, nonstop, unbroken, permanent, solid-as-a-friggin-rock connections with other people. None of us know how to be ALONE. We are millenials. We are Generation Y. And if you click on the word millenial in the last sentence, it’ll handily direct you straight to Wikipedia for the official definition.
But for those of you that aren’t going to do that, a quick run down. A millenial is anyone in Generation Y reaching young adulthood in the early 2000s. No solid dates have actually been set, but it’s safe to say that if you were born anywhere from early 1980s (big hair, yeah!) to the early 2000s, you fit quite nicely into this demographic.
Alright, let’s continue.
Your grandparents, my grandparents, your parents and my parents all had the incredible honor of dating. Scratch that, courting. In their young lives, sometime after they grew past the age of puberty and stopped thinking the opposite sex had cooties, they dated the proper way. They found someone they were interested in, most of the time from school or another extracurricular social activity, and they asked them out.
But here’s the kicker.
They didn’t have cell phones to text their crush on. They didn’t have the ease of Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, MySpace, Tumblr, OKCupid, Plenty of Fish, Match.com, eHarmony, Christian Mingle, Zoosk, AIM, Yahoo Messenger, Snapchat, Glide, Tango, Facetime, (phew I’m out of breath) they had NONE of these things. The best they could do was pick up their ole’ house phone, dial another house phone number and secretly hope and pray that no brothers or sisters or moms or dads answered the phone so they would have to awkwardly have to ask to speak to whoever. Conversations normally happened in person, where they should be held. Your dad had to blush and shove his hands into his pockets and literally kick rocks while he waited for your mother to either accept or reject his invitation to go see the new Terminator with him. She wanted to see Grease, ain’t that cute?!
On the off chance that your parents (or maybe not your parents, plot twist!) ever had a relationship that didn’t work out, the aftermath of the breakup was one normally spent in solitude, or at least what it was considered back then. They may have gotten a few reassuring phone calls from their friends once the news got out at school, but it was days afterwards. There was no Facebook to publicize it on, so the news traveled infinitely slower.
And in comes my point of Facebook, and this is where YOU come in.
I grew up in a time that originally had no Internet.
*Holy crap, I know, right!*
I remember the first time I sat a computer and listened for the fgdskljgfdoigudffjkerkfnlrkegbvoifdzjdf;sgvjdfhg noise of a dial-up attempting a connection to the public library.
After that, DSL. When it took LimeWire about thirty minutes, and that was a good speed, to download one of the new Creed songs.
Then cable internet, we’re down to 10 minutes!
Then, well, I don’t know what came after, or if the speed just faster, but it gave me open access to my friends, my crushes, because let’s face it, as a teenage girl, you like more than one boy.
I got a cell phone. My first one was Nokia complete with the classic Snake.
I now had permanent access to whoever I wanted to talk to.
Fast forward 10 years, and I cannot honestly tell you a single time in my life, since I started dating, (which was a little later than most, I was a late bloomer guys) that I have really been single. Reallllllllllly single. With no interest or attraction to anyone. It’s never happened.
I’m infamous for serious relationship after serious relationship. And you know what, in between each of those serious relationships, there has ALWAYS been someone to bridge the gap. Whether it’s my best guy friend that I all of a sudden start to become attracted to, because well, he’s just really something, lol, or a new guy I just met and traded numbers. There is always someone there. And if you’re reading this and you’re a millenial, chances are that you’ve experienced the same thing.
Sure, you may have not always had someone to go home to, shared a bed with someone at all times, but there’s always been someone, one person that can make any day better. A ‘good morning’ text, or ‘Hey what’s up’ Facebook message that just fills the gaps.
I’m experiencing this now. After a recent breakup of what was a really serious relationship, I’ve managed to fill the void. I haven’t been alone. I’ve been lucky enough to have a really great friend that I really enjoy being around there for company. Electronically and in person. And you know what, there’s nothing wrong with that.
In this day and age, single doesn’t mean alone. Single means taken. And whether that ‘taken’ is by a cute girl or guy you met out at a bar one night and you’re just “hanging out”, or it’s your best friend going to Joe’s Crab Shack and making out with you, it’s still “taken”. Sure it’s not in the traditional sense, but right now, in 2013, none of us are ever single.
I’m still trying to figure out if there’s something wrong with that or not, but I’ll check back with you when I do.
For now, reflect on your past relationships and the people that were there in between them. They may have been the person you should have taken a chance on, instead of the douche from Facebook that liked all your duck-faced, half-naked pictures.