Alphabet Series: Generic

Day Seven: Generic

Well, I’ve been at this alphabet series thing for a week now. Honestly, by Day Four, I was already feeling like the only reason to complete this series is because it’s a challenge and I committed to it, and I don’t back down from that. On one hand, I know it’s good for me to be writing something – anything – every day, but, my GOODNESS, is it exhausting… Maybe this whole thing will help me build my stamina.

Anyway, off we go into Day Seven, in which I shall discuss how generic I was as a single female and actually still am.

If you’re single and a female and you’re like me, you may spend quite a bit of time in between relationships (or while you’re in a bad relationship) wondering, “Why does no one want me? I’m smart, I’m funny, I bake, I don’t nag, I’m appeasing, I’m laid-back, I’m not horrible looking, I have a good job. What’s the deal?” Granted, oftentimes these thoughts are accompanied by the question, “What’s wrong with me?” followed by a brainstorming session on how to make oneself better, more appealing, more fun, more of a catch. Just MORE. But I’m talking about those days when you’re feeling pretty perfect (see yesterday’s post for more on perfection) and just don’t understand why no decent guy is snatching you up.

Here’s why: despite what our parents, teachers and Mr. Rogers told us, we are not special. Sure, we’re special to our parents, but that’s the way it should be, if you’ve got a healthy parent-child relationship, that is (I’ll also note that, although my parents think I’m special and love me, they also know and acknowledge that I make mistakes). We are each nothing more than a human being with a skill or set of skills that we are entitled to use in order to make a living and/or make our home, workplace, community, nation or world a better place. Some of us just hone our skills a little more. For instance, I know my skill of writing (at least I hope others consider it a skill) isn’t “special.” Lots of people have the same skill. What I write may be different than what someone else writes, but that doesn’t mean that I’m special and the other writer is not. The following statement is true: “If everyone is special, then no one is special.”

It hit me several months ago, before Cory and I were engaged. Things were going along great in our relationship, and I figured he was probably the man for me, I was just waiting to see if he’d confirm my suspicions. I couldn’t help but ponder my failed relationships and compare them to this great one. I had been the same person with each guy, hadn’t I? More or less, yeah. I did all the “right” things with each of them, right? Sweet, funny, helpful, supportive…check, check, check, check. So why was it suddenly working?

Obviously, there’s a lot at play when two people love each other (timing comes to mind), but one big one is that it’s just right. It’s the perfect fit. In my pondering, I realized how generic I was. To those other guys, I was a girl they liked. A couple of them may have seen something longer term manifesting, maybe-possibly-kind of-sort of-perhaps, but try as they might – and try as I might – we were just two generic people trying to force our unmatched qualities onto each other. I had some stuff they liked, they had some stuff I liked, but ultimately the whole package wasn’t anything either of us couldn’t live without.

But to Cory, I’m not generic. And to me, Cory is not generic. We’re still two regular people. We’re still a number when the IRS receives our tax returns. We’re still two filled seats at a concert. We’re still another transaction at the grocery. We’re still $35 added to Red Lobster’s earnings this year.

I don’t often do this, because I usually find it cheesy, but I’m going to close referencing a song that has long explained my thoughts on love; Brad Paisley’s “The World.”

To the world

you may be just another girl,

but to me,

baby, you are the world.

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