Le Anniversaire Folie
Haunting Loneliness, the Curse of the Single Girl
The TGIF weekend lineup differs from the societal mores or our sincerely piqued interest in frivolous diversions during these politically wild and tumultuous times. This week, we plummet into the single-girl trope with the birthday folies. Get into it below.
The days leading up to, and even after, my birthday felt a bit blue. Thereby usually preferring a lowkey affair since my day consists of an aversion to the thick humid summer Texas nights that instantly layer in sweat and frizz my wavy hair the moment I step outside. I disfavor my summer birthday and often mentally replay Paul McCartney’s It’s Just Another Day to get through it simply because I tend to get more on the existential side, which takes a while to snap out of.
More than that is the accompanying inexplicable introversion before a birthday. Although I’m certainly not alone in this experience or sentiment, nor alone physically, I felt figuratively lonely— the pestering dark flipside of the shiny birthday facade was the incessant striking dichotomy of loneliness vs. aloneness, which clobbers once again.
Despite somehow avoiding the inevitable birthday spotlight during a celebratory meal, I couldn’t help but wonder, was I uncomfortable with the attention? Or was I addicted to the exquisite and interrupting effect of social anxiety that I hadn’t felt in so long? The last few birthdays have been rather lowkey that I’d forgotten that loud positive attention accidentally sets off the inner panic that makes me cringe and scream inwardly. Thankfully, experience, like age, looks great on me as I’m forever grateful for my mastery of myself.
Retrospectively, a decade ago, I certainly wasn’t in a position of patience or mental clarity, and I have life’s turbulence to thank bittersweetly. Holding nay clasping onto my self-reliance was crucial and formative for the rebirths I’ve experienced in my relationship with myself throughout adulthood.
Long before, my birthday would’ve been spent uselessly expecting differently— John Hughes, you’ll pay for your curdled with age Sixteen Candles and that damn cardboard cake. Looking back, I’m so glad I grew up and sagely fully recovered from prior heartache— and then some— by realizing the ineffectualness of expectation; the mean reds of dread are shaken. Thinking of incredible mental anchors— a mental anchor is a learned coping technique during social anxiety that provides comfort and stability— of legendary women that live beyond the macho stigma of the ‘spinster’ titles often helps when remembering.
The ageless Traci Ellis Ross is unwed and single on her terms and changed my perspective with “My life is mine. Those words stopped me in my tracks. Those words brought tears to my ears because, yes, I’ve been living my life—but not to my expectations. Not for me.”
Secondly, I can’t forget Jane Austen, the maestro of literary romance who never married as she created a life work of literary art that still lives on— “There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time.” — Jane Austen, personal correspondence.
Lastly is my emotional support (alleged) witch Stevie Nicks via Vulture, “People say, ‘But you’re alone’. I don’t feel alone. I feel very un-alone. I feel very sparkly and excited about everything. I know women who are like, ‘I don’t want to grow old alone.’ And I'm like, see— that doesn’t scare me because I'll never be alone. I’ll always be surrounded by people. I'm like the crystal ball, and these are all the rings of Saturn around me.”
Curmudgeon or crone, I relish in further continuing my thirty-something-year-old life. Sharing a birthday with other visionaries like Isabelle Adjani, Tony Leung, Vera Wang, Krzysztof Kieślowski, and Helen Keller helps. While I’m not saying I will be or rather be single forever, I am saying I made peace with the possibility long ago. Akin to the undeniable sticky end we all face sooner or later, facing the inevitable helps— growing up Mexican helped usher in accepting death as part of the cycle of life— I treated my dating life the same.
Learning lessons I didn’t want were cultivated to progress in being comfortable with my vastness while still navigating the tidal waves. Wanting to find someone who’ll understand the intricacies of who I am and all that makes me isn’t heavy on my heart but sometimes overtakes my mind around my birthday.
Then I’m reminded about momentary loneliness, which can instantly make anyone panic and go mad. Being pro-subversive at a young age was never about being against marriage; I’ve always been anti-settling for less— despite my family’s once-cultural expectations, I’ve never found that a relationship is definitive so much that your personhood is melded into one entity.
Marriage isn’t an accomplishment, personal or societal goal for me. I have, however, always been pro-love with an archival confessional by my Twitter of a former ice queen now thawed— unveiling a hidden romantic side that I don’t show many, as privacy is another luxury, particularly in our oversharing and severely online world. Rather, I welcome love and its cosmic ability to find me in the ways I deserve and want whenever it finds me, as I’m not— nor have I ever— prioritized the search for it. Wandering and accepting the little luxury of singledom has been an intricate part of who I’m becoming in adulthood, enjoying these wiser years I thought I was supposed to loathe. Even during the stifling and incredibly lonely parts or after years of getting it wrong.
Regardless, moving on and farther away from unreliable memories tends to increase our mental mix-ups, yet I won’t waste time searching for uncertainty with someone seemingly waiting to complete me; I am a complete component. If and when I meet my chosen person— whoever it may be, ideally, they’ll be a separate yet complete component. Identity and knowing ourselves are essential. Biological clocks, timelines, or frames be damned.
Simplicity and ease were never an exclusive part of my journey here. Learning to be alone takes time, and leaning on my loved ones like chosen friends and family to get through our aloneness. Sure, anguish-filled nights are scribbling endlessly to clear a jaded mind aided in mastering the tranquility of singledom that I’m beholden despite the perils of being a maiden on her voyage and will continue to do so— except forever fuck that ‘old maid’ shit.
💘 Dedicated to the Ones I Love
Comfort-watching and revisiting Sex and the City to ready myself for the character and writing mayhem of And Just Like That… series with my sister. Wisdom is admitting that Carrie Bradshaw is endlessly frustrating— whether it’s her lack of couth, reputedly never learning from her past, being persistently dismissive, unevenly unsupportive in friendships (takes but rarely gives), or being the most prudish sex columnist with a limited range in Manhattan. Still, Carrie Bradshaw is one of the quintessential and formative, stylishly single girls that raised me and countless others. Below is a film and television playlist with my favorite timeless ingenues.
TV:
Marlo Thomas in That Girl
Natalie Wood in Sex and the Single Girl
Mary Tyler Moore in The Mary Tyler Moore Show
Estelle Getty, Rue McClanahan, Bea Arthur, and Betty White in The Golden Girls
Queen Latifah, Kim Fields, Kim Coles, and Erika Alexander in Living Single
Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Cynthia Nixon, and Kirsten Davis in Sex and the City
Tracee Ellis Ross, Golden Brooks, Persia White, and Jill Marie Jones in Girlfriends (the writing strike of 2007 👀)
Blair Waldorf in Gossip Girl
Abby Jacobson and Ilana Glazer in Broad City
Issa Rae, Yvonne Orji, Natasha Rothwell, and Amanda Seales in Insecure
Zooey Deschanel in New Girl
Film:
Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Annie Potts in Pretty in Pink
Parker Posey in Party Girl
Winona Ryder in Reality Bites
Kate Hudson in Almost Famous
Whitney Houston, Angela Bassett, Loretta Devine, & Lela Rochon in Waiting to Exhale
Goldie Hawn, Bette Midler, and Diane Keaton in First Wives Club
Lisa Kudrow and Mira Sorvino in Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion
Thora Birch and Scarlett Johansson in Ghost World
Alicia Silverstone and Brittany Murphy in Clueless
Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde
⚡ $21 and Under
Always a girl with an eye for a bargain, I’ve assembled some current favorites helping me get through this sun-drenched summer that all happens to be under twenty-one dollars.
DW Home Candles, my latest favorite, is Carrot Golden Beets, $9.99 at Marshall’s/TJ Maxx or $10.50 online— it smells seasonal, so fresh with the right slice of earthiness.
Maybelline The Falsies Surreal waterproof Mascara $13— this one is a new favorite and is definitely maybe Maybelline.
Supergoop! Glow Oil, travel size $15 via Ulta/Sephora— try the mini to become a convert.
One/Size by Patrick Starr On ‘Til Dawn setting spray $17 at Sephora— again, try the mini to become a full hype believer.
As It Turns Out: Thinking About Edie and Andy $18 via Target— my next read.
Polaroid 600 Color Instant Film $17-$20— now available in most stores again.
Ice Roller $19 via Amazon or $8-$10 via your local TJ Maxx or Marshall’s— I got mine for $10 at TJ Maxx and use it frequently to counteract any morning puffiness or inflammation.
Peach Slices Dark Spots Microdarts $8-$13, CVS/Ulta— these are miracle stickers.
As of late, I’m taking some time off to oversee the renovations of my abuelo’s house, which I was fervently against but outvoted on because of familial democracy. Conversely, the soothing familiarity of the uproar of the buzzing saws and pounding hammering of a home construction site is like brown noise for me. It’s an evocative comforting sound growing up a builder’s daughter.
Having time meant I could enjoy not only the latest season of The Bear and Top Chef but also dust the cobwebs off my old laptop and write in sunlight in the concentrated summer heat— which is idyllic. It reminds me of spending my summer as a young girl scribbling away at whatever fictional story I was thinking of or drawing I was fixated with.
Of late, my last oceanic piece was written before the embarrassing clusterfuck of toxic masculinity by disappointing men since it wasn’t all that surprising. Emotionally immature men tend to embarrass publically, especially the women in their lives, and you can’t fight destiny. However, not to defend men— because I wouldn’t; unless it was deserving and worthy in its figurative weight in gold, except there aren’t many— I digress. Nevertheless, it’s usually the individuals who are emotionally stunted that are horrifyingly manipulative wolves in sheep’s clothing that can’t seem to understand the severe misjudgment or lack of comprehension in their choices.
Writing this post-Jonah Hill and Darius Jackson (Keke Palmer’s baby daddy) was an informative reminder that in our current socioeconomic climate, removing ourselves from a less-than-ideal relationship or experience is re-investing judiciously back into ourselves. Being single and taking more time to wander isn’t so bad if it means avoiding the horrors and triviality of dating I see online. I won’t change taking my leisurely time and feeling out the dating waters as a single girl online. Still, more importantly, I’ve had the patience to bake two dozen blueberry streusel muffins— which my nieces and nephews devoured like ravenous heathens that I love them to be during their surprise visit. Haunting loneliness can be a besmirch of a single girl’s existence.
Con Amor,
Naomi xx