I've never kissed anyone

Season 20, Episode 06: I’ve never kissed anyone
24 April 2026 – No experience in relationships doesn’t mean I can’t be FUN!!! We need to stop judging our self worth based upon the opinions and expectations of others.

At 20 years old, nearing the end of my second year in college, I’ve never kissed anyone. I’ve only come close once, and even then it never happened. I’ve never dated anyone either, though again I’ve come close once. Same guy.

People like to make fun of me for this. I know they’re joking, trying to laugh with me about my inexperience, but I’m not laughing along.

The time I did get close to something was so good for a minute that forcing myself to think about it forms a pit of barbed wire in my stomach. I want to throw up, I want to cry. Then, I want to punch him in the face. Then, I want to punch myself in the face. I have a lot of residual feelings about it, even though it was over two years ago now.

Probably, these feelings are because I haven’t jumped into any other relationship. Sure, I’ve flirted around and have gotten my hopes up a few times. Nothing has been real, though, and I’m okay with that.

I know I’m not single for lack of people who might want me. People approach me at bars and I brush them off, I avoid social media, and I don’t use dating apps (though I’m surprisingly not a dating app hater). I’m clearly not trying to find someone, but I confidently believe that if we all actually took steps to put ourselves out there we would find someone.

That’s the thing, though. I don’t want just someone. Whenever I decide to step into a new romantic relationship, it’ll be purposeful and meaningful.

So, yes, I’m chronically single. It’s something that makes me stand out amongst my friends and peers, but it’s also something I’m okay with. When I want to be with someone, the feeling that it’s time will come with a moment or with a person or even something I can’t predict.

Being single isn’t an illness, and the fact that I instinctually described the state as chronic is telling in itself of how relationships are prioritized as of late.

I’m happy being single. I also really love love nonetheless.

The book genre I read most is romance by miles, and every TV show I watched is fueled by an underlying romance I can sense (even if it’s not actually there).

Reality TV is some of my favorite content to consume, obviously for the drama and ridiculousness, but I also love them at their core for their romance. My favorite of all time is Love Island UK, a show I started watching at probably too young an age to be appropriate.

From there I grew further obsessed with the franchise in all its variants, spurred on by my best friend somehow loving it even more than I did. My friends all know me as being obsessed with Rob Rausch (from Love Island USA seasons 5 & 6), a title I’ve worked harder than you’d expect to earn.

His foray into the Traitors universe brought me a new reality show I now adore, too. Between episodes of his season coming out, I watched the earlier seasons.

In the past few weeks, I’ve found a new favorite reality TV dating show: I Kissed A Girl. It’s the same concept as Love Island, except its cast consists only of queer women.

As soon as I heard of the show’s existence I ran over to watch it and it became an instant favorite of mine. The diversity, acceptance, and positivity flowing from the show’s veins instantly set it up as a classic in my mind.

There were some flaws, of course, like the too-short length of the season as a whole or the way they go about sending people home. That being said, though, I found so much more to love than I found any grievances about.

Most importantly, the show has helped me to accept myself and my own queerness so much more thoroughly. I may not have ever “come out” to those around me, however I don’t plan on pretending I’m not queer in social situations.

Besides, being open isn’t what makes you who you are. You can exist as someone entirely different in your head if you so choose, as long as one day you allow yourself the grace of fully being that person.

Unfortunately, as soon as I finished the show and allowed myself to do research on the cast and on season two, I found out it (and it’s mlm equivalent) had been canceled. This is one of many queer television shows that fails to survive, despite a readily waiting audience. It’s no coincidence that said audience is made up of queer people.

The first season’s cast is firing back at the cancelation during lesbian visibility week:

“Having that taken away, when there’s so much money being put into shows like Love Island… It’s sending a message that we’re not important,”

said Cara of season one in an interview with DIVA magazine.

I experienced the importance of this show first hand. It wasn’t just that I could obsess over finding new celebrity crushes, or that it was a new reality show. Instead, it was bigger. The show allowed me to not only learn more about the wlw community, but also truly feel like I could have a place in it.

Coming from someone who has such little romantic experience in general, paired with the fact that said experience was with a man, can make me feel isolated from the queer community. Like I can’t belong yet. This show, though, allowed me to feel connected in a way I never have.

Amy Spalding of the season one cast is releasing a self-help book for lesbians this summer, which I highly recommend everyone check out. I for one am incredibly excited to read it.

The show, the cast, and the community of fans have taught me that my experience has no need to be linear. Everyone moves through life and love on their own path, at their own pace. Mine might move slower than others, but this isn’t a bad thing.

My slower, windier path has allowed me to learn so much about myself and the world around me before I become attached to someone I want to be with.

Even if your path has looked different, maybe gone faster, you’re still on the right one for you. There’s no wrong way to experience growth and love as long as you unabashedly do.

Don’t be mad at yourself for taking more or less time than the people around you in figuring out who you want to be.

I am a true believer that there is someone out there for everyone, likely multiple someones, that you’ll only be able to encounter if you carve the path that calls to you. Being afraid to make mistakes will lead you astray, thinking you have to change yourself for others will throw you off course.

Experience your own, unique journey as wholly yourself. Walking through life this way, no matter what it may mean for you or how it may look to others, is the only way to live your life to its fullest extent (even if it’s difficult).

Slow down when things get hard; reorient yourself. Any difference between your path and someone else’s is good, and it is often the key to real satisfaction.

No matter how much it feels like it may be about others, your life is about you. No one else.

For me, this means I’m going to keep watching my favorite reality TV shows and reading romance novels. I’m going to keep loving love no matter how long it takes to make its way into my personal life.

All of this is to say, I am practically Jo March (Little Women, specifically the 2019 film but also the book, of course). Her speech near the end of the film describes my feelings perfectly, and I imagine it encompasses some of yours as well.

“Women have minds and they have souls as well as just hearts. They’ve got ambition and they’ve got talent as well as just beauty. I am so sick of people saying that love is just all a woman is fit for. I’m so sick of it! But — I am so lonely.”

While these thoughts led her to try to confess her love for Laurie, it’s important to recall that she doesn’t end up with him. Instead, they both end up where they’re meant to be. In terms of Little Women (2019) this means Jo’s final path is up for interpretation. Interpret it. Any ending is a good ending.

Meet yourself wherever you’re at, allow yourself room to grow. Whether this growth comes while you’re alone or in a relationship doesn’t matter, and don’t fall into the all-too-familiar trap of comparing where you’re at against anyone else.

Remember: you’re living for you.

P.S. I have an entire playlist based upon feeling like Jo March in her monologue. Listen here.