On loneliness

Girls get lonely, too.

That may seem like an obvious statement, but in the wake of yet another angry, socially frustrated young man going on a violent rampage, it seems in danger of being forgotten. There's been a lot of discussion of men, and how men view women, and how women's lives are affected by how men view them. And a lot of that discussion has been good, and needed. But one thing that's left out in all this discussion of men feeling socially isolated and what are appropriate and inappropriate ways of dealing with that is that simple statement: girls get lonely, too.

None of these feelings we're talking about are the exclusive preserve of men. Loneliness, social isolation, awkwardness, sexual and romantic frustration, pain and anger about any of the above. I know this because I'm a woman and I've felt and do feel all of them. And ironically, the more we talk about lonely young men without any mention of lonely young women, the more it makes me feel invisible, exacerbating the feelings of loneliness, isolation, and frustration. Which I guess is why I'm writing this, because otherwise I might just scream.


What happens when women do talk about their loneliness? From what I've seen, there are two basic scenarios:

1) If you're an "unattractive" woman (defined by an arbitrary, shifting standard), you shouldn't expect to receive attention or affection, and any expression of want to that effect will be scoffed at. You should feel grateful for any attention you receive, be it wanted or unwanted. Your feelings will be dismissed.

2) If you're an "attractive" woman (see above), it's inconceivable that you could feel socially isolated, awkward, lonely, lacking attention and affection. Any expression of want to that effect will be met with disbelief. You should be resigned to any unwanted attention you receive, because what did you expect, being an attractive woman in the world? Your feelings will be dismissed.

Exhibit A: I have learned to hate the response I get when I tell someone that  no, I'm not seeing anyone--or, until well into my twenties, that I'd never had a boyfriend (or girlfriend, for that matter, but no one ever asks that). People almost universally react with surprise, even denial. "Why not?" they say. Or sometimes: "But you're so pretty!"

These are real things people have said to me. I know they mean well; they mean it as a compliment. But the effect of all that disbelief is to make me feel like I can't talk about my own life, not without some explanation that I don't have. Oh, I took a voluntary vow of celibacy. I slept in late on the day they were handing out boyfriends. I'm actually an alien.


The truth is, no one has asked "Why not?" more than me, so believe me, I'd love to have an answer.

I did not date in high school. No one ever asked me out. No one asked me to the dance. I did not kiss anyone. I had crushes, strong and plentiful. I had fantasies about the cutest, most popular boy(s) in the whole school passing by everyone else, walking up to me and asking me out. Suddenly everyone would realize how special and wonderful and desirable I was.

I would've died rather than admit those fantasies, because on the outside, I rejected everything "popular". I went through various phases, ranging from androgynous, baggy clothing to goth and punk aspirations. I was friends with skater boys, and I resented when they dated or pursued preppy girls. They rejected preppy aesthetics and values for themselves, but they still wanted to date the cheerleaders? I raged inwardly at the unfairness of it.

(No, things did not magically transform once I got to college. Just FYI.)

As a young woman, of course, you learn that your role is to be passive, that men are supposed to approach you. No, gender roles aren't as strict today as they were fifty years ago. But women who ask men out, or to dance, or to marry them, are still an oddity. Even if you overcome this conditioning (which takes a lot of courage), why would asking someone out be any easier for women then for men? It isn't. The fear of rejection looms just as large, compounded by the fear of having put yourself out there as a woman--overstepping your gender role, revealing that you have wants--and still being rejected.

Women, too, want things--and people--that they feel they cannot get. Women, too, can look around and see seemingly everyone else enjoying something that eludes them, and think, Why me? For myself, I did not conclude that something was wrong with men, as a whole, because they didn't pay attention to me; I concluded there must be something wrong with me. I directed my pain and criticism inward. I suspect the same is true for many women.

The point is, most people, if not all, want to form meaningful relationships with others. They want love, sex, affection. And I'll wager it's not easy for anyone. It may be harder for some than for others. But you can't tell just by looking at someone. Someone may appear attractive, socially well adjusted--but you don't know their inner life. And to deny someone's inner life, to ignore its existence, is to deny their very humanity.

So to every lonely girl and woman out there, I just want to say: I see you.