Too Nice? Nah, Give Me the Ones Who Won’t Call Me Their Girlfriend

 I’m in my early 30s, and I’ve never felt lonelier in my life. Not the kind of lonely you fix with brunch with friends or a good cry on the phone with your mom. I mean the kind where you could be lying next to someone, sharing your home, your bed, your life… and still feel like you’re shouting into a void. Like some kind of sad, unpaid extra in your own love story.

Here’s the kicker: I know I do this to myself. I seem to have a radar exclusively tuned to unavailable men. Not just single-but-not-ready men. I’m talking about the ones who will move in, share groceries, share pets, share Netflix passwords—but God forbid they share a title. The kind of relationship where it walks, talks, and quacks like a partnership, but the moment you say boyfriend, they look at you like you’ve just asked them to donate a kidney. A kidney! I just wanted a label, not a body part.

And the worst part? I’ve actually had chances with genuinely good guys. The kind who text back, make plans, want a future. But I always said they were “too nice.” Too nice. Who the fuck says something like that? Apparently, me. Like I’ve been running my love life on self-sabotage autopilot, swerving toward chaos like it’s offering free snacks.

I can’t even claim I don’t see it coming. Somewhere deep down, I think I choose them. Subconsciously, maybe. Actively, probably. Maybe I want connection without the risk of real vulnerability. Maybe I think if I don’t ask for too much, I can’t lose too much. Or maybe I’ve just internalized the idea that I’m easier to leave than to love. Congratulations to me, gold medalist in the Emotional Gymnastics Olympics.

It’s a special kind of loneliness, loving someone who always keeps one foot out the door. It feels like being in a house where someone keeps the suitcase packed in the corner. They might stay for years, but you know they’re not staying. Like dating a roommate with occasional kisses.

And here I am, wondering why I feel so empty, while building relationships on quicksand. Wondering if I even know what a healthy partnership looks like anymore, or if I’d recognize it if it walked right up to me—probably while I’m busy chasing a man who thinks commitment is a contagious disease.

So tell me—have you ever found yourself choosing the wrong people on repeat? Drop your story below, let’s swap notes on our bad decisions.


S&S

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