Chubby Chase

Wow, it's that time of the year again. When we singletons attempt to distance ourselves from ubiquitous reminders of the primordial compulsion to seek for and be found by our other halves and, in my case, touch re-assess myself.

It transports me to the moment Shiela snapped me out of my satiated reverie to ask, "Bakit wala ka pa ring boyfriend?" I was momentarily blank. It's not really something you talk about after a mute moment in the elevator.

Bakit nga ba? I have a big heart that consistently pops out of my low-cut blouse. I give out rambunctious laughter that can effortlessly alter ill feelings. I have this bottomless energy to traipse from point A to point Z and insatiable appetite to try this and that. My mouth usually can't catch up to what my predominantly right brain aims to expound. I have contagious self-assurance. And, most importantly, I have so much love to give! Mindful of past aches, yes, but stronger and often eager to take care of someone special. So what's wrong with me? Bakit wala pa rin akong boyfriend?!

Must be my inability to market myself as The One. I've been told that I always project myself as one-of-the-boys gal instead of the siren that I actually am. Oftentimes I'm branded as intimidating and perceived to be already romantically attached for reasons I am completely unaware of. And I'm one limited edition concealing herself behind poor packaging.

Confused, frustrated and exhausted, I decided to search somewhere I think I can introduce myself the way I want to be known. Somewhere I imagine I will be considered presentable, appreciated from head to toe - and belly rolls in between - and accepted for who I am. Somewhere like Chubby Chase.

So I signed up, uploaded 5 of my favorite photos, filled out my profile sheet, indicated I'm after a long-term relationship and, well, I can't afford premium membership (starts at $12.49 per month). Membership type is not really pronounced at your profile page but you would know if your date is on the same state when he sends or reciprocates a template message like "I think you're cute!" and when he's unable to initiate a chat, among others. Instant dead end, eh?

But such disappointment doesn't come close to my discovery of the dearth of Filipino men's presence on the abovementioned virtual niche. Worse, a few of them had the gall to use headshots of Sam Milby and Jericho Rosales and claim it as their own portrait. I did a search for their profiles recently and I'm relieved that their insecure asses had vanished in the community. Maybe they detected a note of bitter derision out of my template message: "Wow, you're funny. I like that." and realized I'm itching to spank them in public.

In spite of my long-time disapproval of long-distance relationships, particularly for those in courtship stage, I contradicted myself and entertained a couple of Caucasian men - ranging from nice guy with quirks to downright extreme pervert. I was too quick to exalt the small things and was too slow to admit that a roseate future with a man who say "just looking for now" in his profile will hardly come into fruition. However, I'm grateful for such self-realizations and friendship earned from each man I encountered.

My friend Atong's interest had waned as easy as her serendipitous discovery of the dating site. Sometimes I wonder if she had unreasonable expectations within a short period of time or I'm just being too clingy to the impossible dream for the longest time.

There goes my self-deprecatory attitude again. See, I've ceased asking myself "Bakit wala pa rin akong boyfriend?" Like what I have stated above, I'm such a great woman with a long list of admirable qualities. But where is this inconsistent flow of self-love coming from? Why does it always have to be hard work? What else do I need to work on?

This Valentine's Day, it's going to be another duel against myself. It will be another moment of cross examination with the woman in the mirror. If He loves me for who I am and so do the people surrounding me, why can't I do the same?

"You can not make someone love you. You can not be thin enough or white enough or famous enough. The choice is entirely the other person's. Then again, you might try hypnosis."

— Jessica Zafra (Chicken Pox for the Soul)