Valentine’s Day was always full of so much love in my house growing up. For me, it meant waking up early to a magical basket full of goodies left on my bed by my mother, or, the mystery Holiday fairy I believed in for much of my childhood.
In elementary school, I would wake up to a big heart-shaped box of candy and a teddy bear. As a preteen, the basket was full of candy and teen fanzines full of my preteen crushes. (At that time getting an 11” x 17” poster of your favorite boy band was #GOALS.) In high school, the basket was more mature; a bigger box of chocolate, perfume, and a special piece of jewelry.
I say all this to say I am ABSOLUTELY NOT the single, bah humbug girl that hates Valentine’s Day. In fact, I love Valentine’s Day and all holidays. I’m an active and willing participant.
Great, now that we have that part clear, can we please remove the cynical lense from which you will likely view a post written on Valentine’s Day by a single woman?
Fantastic, moving on.
We’re here, in the wake of another “lonely” but certainly not sad Valentine’s Day. Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, this holiday forces you to think, question, or wonder why you DO NOT have a Valentine. However, the amount of life you give that question typically determines how you feel about the day as a whole. I don’t give the question too much life because I think I know why I’m single.
Obviously, God is not done preparing the PERFECT man for me. Buuuuuut also… I’m picky. At least that’s what people tell me. “Ashley, you’re too picky!”
I usually meet that comment with my normal eye roll and a fake chuckle. I’m so used to hearing it now that I’ve actually thrown out my entire defense. I’m sad to admit that as much as I hate that “picky” label, I just quietly accept it. I’m told my tastes will mature as I get older. I won’t care about things as frivolous as clean sneakers or how he says goodbye when he hangs up the phone.
But for me, the less important traits I find in a person usually serve as a warning sign for issues I will end up having in the long haul. The “small things” that others consider as frivolous connect back to potentially larger issues for me.
He needs to get his haircut once a week.
“Ashley, you’re too picky!” Why? Because I like a well-manicured man? What’s wrong with wanting my guy to maintain his haircuts or line ups on a regular basis? It’s a personal preference- I like a man to look neat. But outside of my personal preference, I would expect any man of mine to prioritize taking care of himself. If you can’t take 30 minutes a week for your upkeep now, it may be something that falls completely to the wayside as we age. It’s not the haircut, it’s the principle behind it. I’ll say it again, I like a well-manicured man.
He must keep his car clean.
“Ashley, you’re too picky!” Cleanliness is next to Godliness. If his car isn’t clean, I swear to God I don’t want to see his home. Ask any friend I have, a dirty car will send me the complete opposite direction. A dirty car to me is a warning sign. A warning sign that he doesn’t take care of the things he relies on or the things he spends good money on.
If he wants to be with me, he should be with me. He shouldn’t need to ”see where this goes”
“Ashley! You’re too picky, just go with the flow.” With what flow? He wants all the benefits of a relationship but won’t commit? No, no, I’m not being straight edged or avoiding the flow, I’m recognizing an early warning sign. I like a decisive man and one who knows how to commit. To be honest, most men know how to commit. They keep the same barber for 15 years and are loyal to their favorite sports teams through thick and thin.
I could go on for hours rattling off a bunch of traits my next guy must have, but I’m sure many of you readers would find another way to say… “Ashley you’re too picky!”
I hope this doesn’t sound deep because you’re here reading it on this blog, but I do hope I’m delivering it as matter of factly as I actually mean it. We are all picky to a degree. And sure, there are definitely people who are too picky. But I’m not one of those people. I do not use it as a defense mechanism to stop me from dating someone new. I just listen to my gut and pay attention to the small details.
So for now, the next time I hear the phrase, “Ashley, you’re too picky!” I’m testing out a new response: Maybe I’m not picky, maybe you’re just a settler. You can keep your hairy boyfriend and his dirty car.