A Feminist Reckoning With Rejection From Men

I dated a guy for two and a half months recently. It ended about a week ago when he randomly called me to say that he couldn't give me what I wanted, that he had big goals that he wanted to pursue, and that he now couldn't decide if he wanted a relationship. The first of these was utter bullshit; I hadn't asked for anything specific. The only requests were for more affection and more texting, staples of every healthy partnership. The second was true; I knew of his goals and actively supported him in them as best I could, so I was unsure of how it caused an issue. The third was news to me, and was likely the truest reason. In the days following that third reason comforted me because if it was true I knew there was nothing I could do.

I find myself now without sadness about him but with a bit of sadness for myself. How at age 25 am I landing where I was at age 19, with no prospects to speak of? I internally know that I am not really where I was then; I have evolved so much as a person, and though my career isn't fleshed out, it is in its early stages. But becoming single feels like groundhog day at this point. I supposed that at least as time passed the mini single seasons would happen less and less frequently - that is to say, each relationship would last a bit longer, which would be a measurable benchmark of improvement, if not success.

Life has no rules. It operates with chaos as the chief referee. There is no inherent law that only length of relationships proves that a person is successful in them. But I dated a lot in the second half of 2020, the first half I spent with just one long-term partner. I almost felt like I was playing catch-up, trying to somehow prove that I could be something to someone in lieu of that longer failed relationship. None of the men gave me that satisfaction. 

That being said, hardly any endings were because I was rejected. I was often making the judgment call myself. Sometimes I pushed the person away in a preemptive effort to avoid rejection. Since my self-knowledge is likely limited, I sincerely hope that rejection avoidance was not always my motivation for walking away, but I can't say for sure.

I am a feminist, and I tend to look at rejection through that lens. I do not weigh the opinions of men heavier than the opinions of women, so if I'm not seen as hot enough or feminine enough, I don't let it get to me. But as long as I intend to find love, I must grapple with the desires of men in some way. I've read before about how independent women and smart women struggle in dating, so if you're both then you're nearly doomed. In reaction to this, I have softened my drive in order to fit a bit into some form of femininity better. 

For a few years now I have bounced back and forth between being single and making something of my own dreams, then pursuing relationships and putting my dreams on the back burner so I can be an ideal girlfriend with a well-rounded life. Even as I write this, I cannot say which one I will land in tomorrow or a week's time. If I were to have as many opinions as I have and speak about them, pursue passions the way I want, reject society's rules and capitalism, and try to find love, I fear I will have a tough time with it. So I lie to myself, saying that I don't wish to be all that opinionated or passionate or creative, when really deep down I do.

It's all well and good, but being feminist sometimes feels like a bit of a curse that holds me back from love. I really think it would be easier to find someone if I wasn't so aware of the patriarchy's control over how I live my life. "That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool," Daisy says in The Great Gatsby. I hate that I am confronted with that often.

I view history as wholly as I can, seeing along the timeline where I am in the progress of women living their best lives. One day, a woman can be as independent as me and find someone, and it's still possible now, but I am passing through the part of history where we have to fight to make it less hard. This recent breakup brought to light my own inability to make big decisions. I often choose to ignore the decision eternally and thus hold myself back. Making decisions is something that a couple can do together, but a single person must do alone. In my head, I have always counted on being with a partner when the time would come to make big decisions so I would not have to do it alone. But as I cannot count on the future, this is an idea I need to rid myself of so I can finally move forward in life.