My Secret Single Behavior
A few years back, when I worked at the blog Style by Emily Henderson, one of my beloved coworkers (Jess) asked everyone what their “secret single behavior” was. I knew the question from an episode of Sex & the City, and the character’s Charlotte’s answer always stuck in my mind because I did the same thing she did: stare in the mirror and look at her pores. I wasn’t doing it necessarily just for the mere enjoying or even disapproval of looking at my large pores, but rather I had a bad habit of squeezing my face.
Anyhow, that is not my secret single behavior, by the way. But for some reason, this popped into my head this weekend as I thought about something I haven’t done in a very long time: twirl around my apartment singing loudly. I lived alone for about seven years, and the twirling and singing behavior was a very regular one in my single-girl home. But it hit me recently that I haven’t done this in a very long time, likely because Charles and I have been together every single day, nearly 24-hours a day since March 2020. And while I’m still, somehow, not sick of him and so happy for this time with him (you know…considering the world feels like it’s falling apart), there is a part of me that feels is locked away. Caged.
But first, I feel the need to clarify something that no one asked. “Twirling and singing loudly” was not my answer back in my EHD days. Nope, I let something far more embarrassing slip out of my mouth. My SSB (secret single behavior) was pretending I was a world-renowned gymnast who just stuck an incredibly landing after a high beam routine (the floor was my high beam…I made it work). I can’t tell you when I started doing this, but I can say for certain literally no one on this earth has seen me do it. So perhaps it’s my SSSB (super secret single behavior). Everyone in the office giggled, surprised by my answer, and honestly, I was surprised I admitted that to anyone.
I do feel like my Olympic gymnastics team pseudo routines are behind me (never say never, I suppose), but I miss twirling/swinging Arlyn. Where’d she go? That state was the closest I’d get to feel like a little girl again, and who doesn’t want that delight? As a youngin, I loved to wear dresses specifically for the purpose of twirling around as fast as I could. My motives back then were…suspect, however. I mostly did it because, for whatever reason, I wanted people to see my underwear (?!?!). Listen, I was four or five, and I guess I was part exhibitionist back then. Though, I’d like to reshape that narrative by saying I was a free, uninhibited spirit. Only the kind of free, uninhibitedness that a happy, content child can be. So there…I think I salvaged that?
Moving on…
In no way would Charles be even remotely surprised if he came out to the living room and saw me in the act. He knows me well enough to just catch a glimpse and walk right back to where he came from, no questions asked. But even so, there’s no true freedom like the one that comes when you’re totally alone. It’s a truly, 100% judgment-free zone, where you’re allowed to fly your freak flag, only for you to see.
While there have been a handful of days in the last year+ where I was home alone, I wasn’t quite in the physical or emotional shape to twirl and sing without inhibition. I recall a time in the thickest thick of my ailments, standing in the kitchen cooking and listening to ABBA. My mom loved ABBA, so listening to those old tunes is always a bright spot for me. One of the songs she would sing to my sister and I was “Chiquitita” and this one day, listening to the lyrics closely, really flipped a switch in me, and from it came a waterfall of tears. It didn’t take much in those moments to have a breakdown, but this one stood out to me, because it directly relates to my SSB:
Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they’re leaving
You’ll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving
Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita
I’m in a far, far better place today than I was back then, but I haven’t quite danced or sung again, and I think it’s time to. Even if Charles can hear me from the other side of the apartment. Even if it’s not totally comfortable. Our SSBs, if anything like me, are a snippet of our truest selves and our greatest little moments of joy. All hail the SSB.
Before I sign off for the day, I have to ask…what’s your secret single behavior (if you feel so inclined to share)? And have you seen it fade into a memory in these recent times?
See you tomorrow, FOAS.