Storytime. What
It was a beautiful wedding, however nothing groundbreaking or abnormal as an attendee. Just like your usual western/asian style weddings, there is a much coveted photobooth by the bride-grooms families, my friends and I were no different, snapping a few pictures for ourselves and obtaining top quality 6 x4 photo print-outs (glam!). Every wedding de-brief with my mother would end with a tiresome conversation of “when is it your turn”, even though she already has an engaged child (my brother) who has no wedding plans in sight.
It’s no secret amongst my friends that I’ve been single, so damn bloody single, for almost my whole lifetime. I’m single by the definition of a serious relationship, I have however been in grief-stricken situationships that stole my youth, broke my heart and lose my faith in men as a whole. I’ve never really spoken or shared openly about them because the definition of a situationship varies from situation to situation (literally) and it was after giving myself time, healing and space to recognise those situations shaped my current state.
I spent all of my 20s, some of the most formative years of my life, with a church community that has shown me love, support and community, while also inflicting some wounds that may or may not have shaped the way I am today. As I look at some of the 6×4 prints of my friendships formed and maintained from that community, I couldn’t help but reflect and ponder on the guy friends (two of them whom are still single) in the pictures. Three of them possessing sisters I hold close and dear friendships with. All three have been victims to the community’s teasing of “why not consider him/her” with yours truly. Today is a deep-dive into a “could’ve, would’ve, should’ve” sister-in-law POV.
Boy 1
You hurt me the most. I felt like a fool to believe the niceties of a boy meant something more. I thought we would work because intellectually, you were the compatible one. I was the girl who loved brain over brawn, the fact our similar interests matched, fed my delusions. Your sisters didn’t help either, they would tag us in social media posts (just us), invite me to your family events and once sat me next to you and your parents, while our friends were sat on the other side of the hall. Your mother never fails to greet me enthusiastically at church, I believe she still thinks I could be the one to bring you back. It fed my delusion until the time before our last music festival together, when a friend broke to me that you were secretly seeing a girl overseas, the whole time, without the knowledge or your family. You lied into my face saying you didn’t have a girlfriend she I confronted you, only to admit it towards the end of the event. You will never imagine the disgust I felt in myself for being like “the other girl”, my world crashed knowing those times when we did hang out, you were in a relationship with a girl beyond the border. While we were not and ever a thing, I was livid to know that you, as a supposed boyfriend, felt comfortable attending music festivals with me, have meals with me, sent me DMs of memes to laugh, watch movies and drive me home, while having a girlfriend.
I despised myself to think that we were even compatible, I was fed the delusions from our families, community and my vulnerable state of discovering my dad’s illness at 25. You made me lose faith in men and boys who grew up in church, you made me built walls for myself for the rest of my 20s, you’re the reason I have my guard up, when men do ask me out, because I have the fear of being “the other girl”. You’re the reason I believe every man is taken and won’t take them seriously unless they explicitly address that they are “single and genuinely interested” in front of my big fat face, because only actions don’t cut it no more in 2024.
Boy 2
I did not know when it started, but he started to reply my messages promptly, respond to my favour requests obediently to the point that I joked with one of my best friends that he was the “best younger brother” I never had. (She eventually also became his sister-in-law.) When my father fell ill, he was one of the few constant ones that would check in on my mental health. I remember the prayer he said for me during a session my little group held for my father, when we knew he didn’t have much long to live. Boy always was willing to give me a ride, drive me home and even once going out of his way to take me to the airport. Boy was also friends with my real younger brother, whom he even took out for driving lessons. His actions led my father to form his last messages to me before he left this earth to be “give him a chance, he seems like a good boy”. He went out of his way to curate a memorial video for my dad. Filled with grief, emotion and vulnerability, I decided to give my father’s last message to me a try, alas it ended with the classic old response of “But I only see you… as a friend”.
I blame my vulnerable naive self, navigating the illness and grief of my father, to believe the acts of pity service, as a sign of feelings that were non-existent. I anguish at the fact I believed his sister-in-law’s analysis of his behaviour to be a potential sign of feelings, when she really just wanted to fill the final seat in her new family with a friend she knew well. I learnt my lesson of trusting family members who decipher a boy’s feelings purely from their few interactions with him. you taught me that good boys can break hearts the same way bad boys do, it cinches harder.
Boy 3
If we did get together, I know I’d be a hit in the society you grew up in. I fit the standards required of your socioeconomic background, if not, even more. I have the grit a girl will need to enter that family and society of yours, because I grew up in it. I remembered the times we interacted in group situations and bonded over experiences that highlight the stark background differences from the rest of our peers. Your sister and I get along, she never fails to bring up in our conversations of my dating ventures, that you are still single and available.
But alas, you fit the stereotype of our circles. One that will not look my way, or see my worth and appreciate the investment made into my upbringing. Unlike the boys before you, no feelings were invested (thankfully), mistakes were made and learnt (though I was touched when you came to my dad’s funeral). You can call me picky, but a girl’s effort is shown in the level of make up is invested in her face and the fashion she wears. We know my investment in makeup and clothes are competitive with those in the market, in fact so competitive it will make potential in-laws cry. All that, for you to not have any enthusiasm when I was asked to join the kick-ons with the wedding party. It was your lack of enthusiasm that made me realised my worth. The ROI of my parents will only be spent on those who can see the value and are willing to chase the acquisition. As there was no interest from your own, neither will there be any from me.
end
Thank you for journeying this far. Sorry to the sisters who knew I would’ve been a bomb as SiL because we get along and you know me well, your brothers have much work to do.
If you know me personally and have deciphered the above identities, know that God is watching and gossip is a sin.
❤
Crink 