Whenever I complain about never finding fitting suitors, the typical response from friends and family is: “You need to lower your standards.”

However, my logic is that if I am going to spend my time in a “relationship,” I might as well find someone who is worth it

So, what is worth it?

To me, it’s a man who can surprise me, which is a hard task. You see, when you buy yourself flowers and take yourself on dates, I have found that men cannot really do much more to surprise you.

If you ask me about my sexual partners, I’ll tell you the opposite. I have had my fair share of regrets and mistakes. I have kissed people I shouldn’t have kissed and brought men into my bed that didn’t deserve to feel my soft sheets.

I often find myself asking why: Why do I care so much about romantic relationships and not sexual ones?

In sexual relationships, I expose myself completely. It is literally impossible to be more naked than when you’re having sex.

Plus, having sex is terrifying. All of my insecurities come out — well, mainly my physical insecurities — but my mental ones as well. If we’re in doggy, does it mean he thinks my face is ugly? I can’t ride for too long, otherwise he’ll see my belly pooch. In missionary, my boobs start to fall to the side, so I either have to put my arms above my head or find a way to push them together.

I calculate pretty much everything I do when it comes to sex because I feel the need to. So if I’m doing all of this work, it makes me wonder why I am not more picky when it comes to sexual partners.

To a certain degree, I think it’s because I’m concerned with short-term pleasure. Sex feels good, so I should seek it. I also think I turn to sex because it helps me avoid confronting emotional intimacy when I am not yet ready to. I am a very emotional person, and with no outlet, I turn to sex in order to feel some form of intimacy.

There’s also something so beautifully masochistic about having meaningless sex. It’s a way of reinforcing negative thoughts about myself. 

In terms of seeking a relationship, I adopt the opposite approach I just outlined toward casual sex. Somehow, meaningless sex is okay because I am not worth loving, but a below standard relationship is unacceptable in any circumstance?

I know it may not make sense, but that’s just the point of my confusion.

When it comes to relationships or partners, I acquire a god complex where I see myself as “the man.” In a way, it’s been great being so confident about my worth, but it’s also made me very lonely.

I don’t necessarily feel the need to be in a relationship or have a partner to feel less lonely, but life gets hard when everyone around you is finding their “college love” that you know they are going to marry in about four to five years. 

So I’ve turned to meaningless sex to give me that feeling of being wanted, the feeling that my friends are all starting to experience around me. Also, getting intimate emotionally is far too intimidating. I can take off all of my clothes easily, but the minute you ask me to break down my walls, I’m out. Unraveling my trauma is far too intimate — it means you know too much. As such, my abandonment issues could never.

Relationships also come with too many strings attached. If I am going to commit to the responsibility of a relationship, it better be worth it. I throw my heart and soul into my relationships, so my partner better be doing the same.

With sex, I never have to see you again. UC Berkeley is a massive school with far too many people, so it’s pretty rare we’ll cross paths after one night. 

In a relationship, we grow accustomed to seeing each other regularly and searching for a way to keep the sparks flying. But in a world where I already meet these needs for myself, what more can a partner provide?

For starters, I need someone who understands what I’m passionate about and someone who can have life-shattering conversations. But I also need someone who I can sit in silence with — someone who pays attention to everything I say and don’t say, and makes a constant effort to show me I am valued. 

Sex requires none of the sort. Although my insecurities may seep out, I can hide them both through my mini tactics and by turning the lights off. I don’t need to talk to you and you don’t need to talk to me.

It’s all just one big trade: You give me pleasure, I give you pleasure. 

In a relationship, it’s a partnership. 

Maybe I should lower my standards, or maybe I should heighten them. Or maybe I just need to find out how to be happy alone entirely.