By Marriya Schwarz | Editor-in-Chief
There has been a lot of news about Emma Watson lately because of her role as Meg in Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women (2019). The film consists of four sisters: the ambitious one, Amy (the Slytherin), the kind one, Beth (the Hufflepuff), the adventurous one, Jo (the Gryffindor), and the proper one, Meg (the Ravenclaw). Soon, J.K. Rowling will be tweeting out that Louisa May Alcott stole the plot of Little Women from Harry Potter, but Rowling just didn’t mention it because it wasn’t key to Harry’s journey. Watson’s character Meg, one of four sisters, loves the idea of being a proper woman and fitting into that maternal role. Watson differs from her character because in November of last year, she mentioned in an interview that she does not think of herself as being single, but she calls it ‘self-partnered.’ This is a much more empowering way to look at being single and communicating that a person can still be happy if they don’t have a significant other. Of course, since the Internet is the Internet, the interview blew up and had people question how a 29-year-old woman could be content with being single.
Enter me. The world’s worst fear. I am 22-years-old and I have never been in a relationship, even though I grew up and continue to go to school in Virginia, the literal state for lovers (because seeing those big capital “LOVE” letters out and about isn’t salt in the wound). And I 100% see the pros of being single. No matter how much I could love a potential boyfriend figure, I couldn’t give up garlic for anyone, regardless of what my breath smells like afterwards. Have you tried garlic mashed potatoes? They are incredible. Plus, I am like the staple of last-minute plans. You have an improv show you don’t want to go to alone or a poetry reading? Text me; I’m probably not doing anything. I’m not in a relationship.
And it’s not like I’m a nun (even though that was what a career personality test said I should be in high school, which is wild because I think being a nun entails more than just a certain type of personality). I’ve been on dates; I’ve kissed a boy; I’ve fallen in love with a widowed naval captain with seven children and taught them that the hills are alive with the sound of music (okay that one’s a lie). But you get the point.
Relationships just haven’t really been things that happened to me.
I mean, there is a certain level of me just being clueless about everything. In high school, a guy asked me to dance at Homecoming - well, he said “were you planning on dancing?” and I was eating M&M’s, so I said “No, I’m eating M&Ms right now” because it was factually correct. In my mind, he had to have worked for the school paper and was putting together a survey on the amount of students actually planning to dance at a school function. Spoiler alert: I’m dumb.
But I think that the idea of asking someone out has always been something that I’ve been afraid of. As a graduating senior, I think all rejection is scary, but the rejection from a major media entertainment organization ideally has less to do with my personality and my appearance. A guy doesn’t care that I’ve been in Rhythm & Tap Dance Club for four years and he’s “tired of me constantly sending him cover letters about it.” Sigh. That’s men for you.
And of course, there’s always Tinder or Bumble or whatever, but that’s not necessarily the story that I want to tell our potentially adopted children (because there has been no moment in my life so far when I’ve glanced down at my crotch and thought ‘huh, I want a human to emerge from there’). What I want to tell my kids is something like “I met him while walking around on a particularly foggy day in Southwest London” or “I spent the day with a Spider-Man cosplayer and he took off his mask and it was love at first sight.” Yes, in each scenario, I am in a happily committed relationship with Tom Holland, aka the newest Spider-Man. (Disney’s Onwards is currently in theaters. The kids and I are so proud of you.)
The woman who cuts my hair always interrogates me on whether I have a boyfriend, while she happens to hold sharp scissors inches away from my jugular veins. So this is to you, ma’am: No, I do not have a boyfriend. Would it be nice to have someone who would hang out on weekends? Sure. Would it be nice to have someone who is willing to help me lift furniture? You bet. Would it be nice to date a super hot guy so that I can go into the comedy industry and they’ll look at him and they’ll look at me and think ‘huh, she must have a great sense of humor’ and they’ll automatically give me a job? Yeah, definitely. But instead, I sit in my bed and read the William & Mary Facebook posts of every alumni who has met their partner in college while I eat as much ice cream as I want because goddamnit I’m empowered.
Thinking about Emma Watson, I don’t think that me being single is me making any kind of feminist statement. I’ve been single for 22 years; if there’s a statement to be made, I think I’ve made it. And I don’t think Emma Watson is necessarily making a feminist statement either; I think the idea of ‘self-partnering’ is the idea of focusing on yourself and being happy by yourself. It’s the concept of being your own biggest ally and supporter, which I do an okay job at, but admittedly, I am terrible at single person water balloon tosses. I 100% support women who do refer to themselves as ‘self-partnered’ because I think that there is a stigma around not having a partner and around being a stereotypical ‘cat lady’ or ‘old maid.’ But I think sometimes, people rush into relationships just for the sake of being in a relationship; we can be compatible about nothing except for our fear of dying alone and somehow that feels like enough. (I probably wouldn’t mind dying alone as long as I have ample time to set it up as a mystery and then have my entire family gather, only to learn that I gave my entire $30 in my will to my nurse.) But there is such a strong importance about knowing yourself and knowing how you behave when you’re alone. I know myself a little too much; I can literally predict everything I’m about to say before I say it.
And I also don’t think being open to a relationship makes me any less of a feminist. I think it’s natural for people to want someone but only as long as you are still able to stay yourself within that relationship. Even so, there’s this idea that, to be a feminist, you don’t need a man. We can slay our own dragons. Which like, right on; I’ve seen Miss Congeniality and I know basic self-defense, but I have chronic pain and I’m pretty sure that my body is only a weapon to myself. Plus, it’s a freaking dragon; I’m not exactly rejecting help right now.
So am I looking for a relationship? No. But I’m also not not looking. I’m just going to see where life takes me and consume as much garlic as I can right now because, hey, you never know.