Second Thoughts for NBSB’s

“Ha? Ano?? Ows???”

Yes, I get that a lot every time I confess that I’ve had no boyfriend since birth. The sighs of disbelief come not because I am too pretty not to have had a boyfriend but because of the fact that I am 28 years old. (Note how, in our country, the word “old” reverberates when within close proximity to 28.) It just so happen that these are two things I am always honest about. That I’m an NBSB (No Boyfriend Since Birth) and that I’m 28.

Usually the follow up question of those people who, for some reason, get half blown away by my romantic life—or lack thereof—is a condescending, “why?” The truth is, if I knew the answer then maybe I’d be in a relationship by now. Apparently, neither I can explain why I have been single forever.

It doesn’t take long before the people who probe on my non-existent love life treat me like I’m a freak. It is as if they are suddenly cloaked with gleaming pity over me. Like my lack of a love life is something to be sorry about. Then those who get too much involved exhaust all possible means to hook me up with someone they know, and sometimes, with someone they don’t even know. I think that my romantic status give them the notion that I need them to save me.

However, I’ve grown used to it. For people to treat me indifferently for not being able to find my own pair, whether it is the right one for me or not. For people to feel sorry for me for being alone without even asking me if I am lonely. For people to worry for me whereas I am a healthy 28-year-old with a college degree to boast alongside my other accomplishments as a single woman.

I can let unsolicited reactions pass. But then, some would just have to pry literally below the belt and go all nasty. Take for example the rude question thrown at me by a supposed educated middle-aged woman who hasn’t earned the position to ask me her poorly thought question packaged in an undeniably mocking tone, “E di virgin ka pa?”

I was so close to smacking her down by looking her in the eye and delivering a stinging, “The state of my hymen is none of you business,” then punctuating my point with a satisfying flip of hair. But I figured, I will be no better than that woman if I stoop down to her alarming level of politeness. I think my simple yet truthful candid reply was somewhere around, “tama bang itanong sa akin yan?” It just goes to show that my being an NBSB at 28 doesn’t make me less civilized.

Perhaps it has been on top of my life’s list of mysteries, why some people get a kick out of taunting NBSB’s. Why people like me are pitied, if not ridiculed. To think we are all born without a lover. By default, we came into this world single. I can hardly reconcile why those who remained solo are looked down upon by some members of our society.

What most people fail to realize is that, although people like me have been single all our lives, it is possible that we are happy and contented. We do not have to feel incomplete or inadequate because we have never been in a relationship. And, by God, we do not need to doubt our sexuality just because we have no specimen lover whose gender will define ours. Yes, we are missing out on some probable great things but we are not miserable for missing them. Believe me when I say that there are more heavy stuff available in life to be justifiably miserable about. NBSB-ness will cringe at the sight of the items on that list.

I admit that some comments of people around me sometimes affect me more than I should be allowing them. It sounds to me like it’s a curse when they say that if I don’t get my man soon, I am sure to grow old alone. That it may be too late before I realize what I have been missing. That my parents will think of me as their unfinished business for not being able to “endorse” me to someone who will take care of me the way they did.

But I guess, I’d be a fool if I let comments like those haunt me and hinder me from enjoying my life. Sure the chances of snagging someone who’d stay with me until I’m old and gray drop every year while no point is recorded on my “boyfriend count” scoreboard. But why should I bother myself with bugaboos implanted by those who think their ability hold hands with someone make them better than me?

My life is far from being devoid of love. I have enough people around me to love and these people happen to be good at loving me back. I don’t think I’ll have to worry about feeling alone or empty at all. My parents, on the other hand, can take comfort in the thought that they raised their daughter as a self-sufficient woman who, more often than not, can take care of herself.

I appreciate those who care too much about me that they wish that I, too, will be able to experience the bliss of having one’s own love life. I understand them. I really do. But I wish that they, too, will understand that there are some things that cannot be forced. That things will happen if they are bound to happen. And if indeed, I am destined to pair up with someone in the future, who am I to deny myself that? But while circumstances in my life are not headed to that direction, I think I have the right to continue enjoying my life as it unfolds. I find it unnecessary to wait for a probable Prince Charming, pine away for his coming when I have smoothly been getting by my life on a solo flight for the past 28 years.

I have been around long enough to catch people thoughtlessly drop snide remarks against old maids, let alone NBSB’s. I am beginning to accept the fact that as long as I don’t pair up with anyone, I am sure to catch harsher quips especially designed for NBSB’s like me. Quips like, “hindi pa kasi nagkaka-boyfriend kaya masungit.” One slip and non sequitur blows will conveniently come out of the mouths those who have a thing against single people. The worst part is, the more years I count romantically-free, the tougher remarks I am certain to receive.

Society is unkind to old maids; it is especially mean to NBSB’s. I don’t know why it is so but I know that it is not how it’s supposed to be.

If some people find it hard to believe that someone like me can live for 28 years without having a boyfriend, I find it even more baffling how these people can easily make fun of my romantic status as well as of others like me. Because if these people really are as superior to us who have gone solo as they probably think they are, then they’d be contented with their lives—so contented that they will constantly have second thoughts in insulting NBSB’s like me.

And if the time will come when I find myself as one half of a pair, I shall be contented—so contented that I wouldn’t find it necessary to mock anyone just for a snort.