Stories are written by people who don’t necessarily work or study in fields related to sexology. They convey emotions, perceptions, and subjective perspectives. Opinions voiced in the stories are those of their authors, and in no way represent the position of Les 3 sex*.

Ce témoignage est aussi disponible en français [➦].

Translated by Gabrielle Baillargeon-Michaud.

I don't want this text to come across as a sweeping generalization; I simply want to share a part of my life as honestly as possible. 

Growing up, like many young girls, I was swayed by tales of princesses and princes, swept up in saccharine movies and the purest form of romance. These stories portrayed charming men wooing naive young women, culminating in them falling madly in love and having numerous children. 

Entering adolescence, I started to deeply believe in the idea of true love. 

I believed in love at first sight and envisioned myself married, in love, and blissful.

As years passed and I observed my peers, I noticed a stark contrast between the Cinderella stories and the reality I saw. Boys I liked in high school were invariably drawn to more extroverted, more engaging, and more fun girls. I saw couples form while I remained on the sidelines, and the grand romances I had once believed in were nowhere to be seen. These relationships were short-lived, and breakups were often bitter and painful. Friendships are fractured over competing or conflicting attractions.

Yet, I envied them in some way. 

I too longed to be loved. 

I too wanted to fill the void. 

During my senior year of high school, I met a boy who was kind, funny, and attentive. We went out a few times and naturally evolved into a couple. It wasn't as easy as I had imagined. 

I often found myself hurt,

often cried,

yet I also laughed  

and experienced joy.

I felt I was inching closer to those fairy tales.

But then, after nearly three years, I stopped loving him. I broke up with my boyfriend and felt a profound sense of failure. Everyone kept asking what went wrong, expecting a tale of argument, deceit, or betrayal—the usual markers of a "real" breakup.

The truth, however, is that many couples part ways due to dwindling love or simply because things no longer work—a reality I wished I had been better prepared for.

This realization brought back the disappointment I felt in early adolescence. I had lived through a love story, and it wasn't lifelong. Now a 19-year-old young adult and single again, I felt betrayed once more by the grand romantic narratives of my childhood.

What surrounded me were one-night stands, friends with benefits, and couples hurting each other. I questioned whether this was the essence of the new generation and was deeply shocked.

Worst of all, this behavior seemed normal to others. I was advised to enjoy life, my youth, and others—over and over—as if my time was running out. Fearing I might miss out, I chose to ride the wave of uncomfortable singlehood.

It has only been two years since I ended that chapter of my life. Reflecting on it still brings a wave of shame and sadness.

Those nights involved drinking more than necessary, wearing less than necessary.

I flirted, played with fire, and got burned more than once.

I fell for flattery that made me feel alive, and constantly sought attention from the wrong men.

I was demeaned, betrayed, insulted, mistreated, and abused.

Some trivialized these experiences, telling me this was just part of being young today. They preached the virtues of our times—lack of commitment, freedom—and demonstrated what they called "normalcy." In the process, I lost myself. Whether I enjoyed it, I'm not sure. I drifted from good friends, my family, and myself. I pursued intense emotions, the kind that made me feel truly alive.

Eventually, I felt like a walking corpse, closer to enemies than friends, mingling with the darkest sides of life, and hitting rock bottom.

But one day, I had enough. I reminisced about those old princess and prince movies. Although their endings were beautiful, their journeys were never easy. This reflection rekindled a spark of hope within me. I decided to revisit those old tales and believe in beautiful stories again. I realize now that love is not easy, and being part of a couple requires hard work. I aspire to marry, have children, and own a home. I am confident that I will meet someone decent—not perfect, but kind, respectful, and loving. There is no rush. Life can be enjoyed in myriad ways: through studying, learning, traveling, meeting new people.

Being single  is challenging. It often feels like something is missing, and the search for the ideal partner can seem endless—the more we seek, the less we find.

It's daunting, but happiness can be found in other ways. Today, I feel increasingly at peace with myself. I'm comfortable in my own skin and rarely feel lonely. My life is no longer a void that needs filling. I no longer chase happiness; instead, I let it come to me. I have chosen not to follow the prevailing currents. 

I have decided to write my own story. And as many before me have stated, "it's better to be alone than in bad company."