Women and the city

Life threw three men into my life and basically said, “Good luck.”

It turns out… I wasn’t ready for any of them.

Last year I promised we’d see each other again soon.

Well… I lied.

In case anyone is wondering what i’ve been up to this last year, well..Life throw 3 men in my life and said ” Now you deal with that.” I realized that life isn’t easy when you’re a chronic overthinker—that there comes a morning when you simply say, „Okay, I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t what I want. No matter how great the guy is, I’m no longer willing to waste my time on someone with whom I have no future.” And that was because I knew. I knew from the start that those three men wouldn’t be part of my future. In fact, I had started out with the mindset: „I’ve got some time to waste—why not give it a shot?” The answer came quickly: because I am a far too difficult person to settle for anything less than what I envision.

And it’s not like I blame them or anything.. It’s just that this past year showed me why I’m better alone.

So let’s begin the story… Shall we ?

He came into my life unexpectedly. He was a former colleague who had tried to make a move on me, though I remained quite hesitant until May of last year. He was perhaps the only person with whom I could have envisioned a future in recent years. It was a relationship built on respect, passion, and understanding—the kind where you dance in the kitchen to bachata music at 3 a.m., the kind where he cooks for you out of affection, blasts music in the car, and sings to you in Spanish even though he doesn’t know a word of the language. Of course, he had his own traumas too, but we tried to overcome them together. A 1.96 meter tall man—dark-haired, bearded, and with a soul even bigger than his stature (I know, it sounds impossible). Why didn’t it work out, you ask? I knew from the start that it was temporary because he was due to leave the country in three weeks, and neither of us believes in long-distance relationships. His departure hurt during that first week, but then life got in the way, and I didn’t have time to dwell on it. If you’re wondering how he’s doing: he’s happy and has been in a relationship for a year now. I’m glad things turned out the way he wanted.

The second guy seemed like perfection personified. Mature, educated, a man of his word… That is, until the first drink. And since I had time some free time, I figured spending three weeks with him wouldn’t hurt… I couldn’t have been more wrong. I lost so many nights partying with him when I had work the next day; I’d drive to another city to pick him up when he didn’t have a car; he’d pick fights with me over nothing… Anyway. If you think I’m blaming him, you’re sorely mistaken. Going by the saying „The fool isn’t the one who asks, but the one who gives,” picture this: he woke me up at 5 a.m. one morning (I started work at 10) to come pick him up from his place because he’d gotten into a fight and wanted me by his side. Yep—I don’t have moments of stupidity often, but when I do… they are MONUMENTAL. Did I mention he lived to another city ? That morning, he told me he loved me, freaked himself out by saying it, and we ghosted each other a week later. Fun fact? I wasn’t even in love with him. Why did I do all those things? I haven’t the faintest idea. The latest update is that the calls continued shortly after the breakup; he’d call whenever he got drunk, but I always kept my phone on „Do Not Disturb,” so I’d go on sleeping while he… went on drinking. He reached out quite recently—drunk again—just to check on me. He called from a friend’s number so his girlfriend wouldn’t see… Though, word around town is that she’s his ex now.

After three months of being single—and thinking my life was finally settling down—I went to a work conference. I had no intention of getting involved with anyone, even though my industry is notorious for „what happens on the trip stays on the trip” scenarios. Yet, there I was at the airport at 3 a.m. on October 31st, fresh from a Halloween party, when I met „Prince Number Three.” He was charming, with a wide smile and a „hello” that made my knees go weak. I didn’t have time to properly process it all; I was sleep-deprived and incredibly grumpy. To top it off, „Prince Number Two” chose that very morning to text me asking where I was. I wanted to tell him I was on my way to the loony bin, but I remembered he lacked a sense of humor. Anyway, we arrived in Turkey; I got some decent sleep and suddenly felt human again. I went to mingle and socialize—we danced to reggaeton beats—but he completely ignored me. The day passed, and dinner time arrived. In the meantime, the gentleman found my Instagram and challenged me to a karaoke duet. I agreed to join the group. Once there, he saved a seat for me next to him, and we started talking. We kept talking—that night, the next day, and the day after that… I arrived at the airport with part of the group—he was staying behind for another three days—and received a message saying, „I’d like to get to know you better.” He was charming, and I saw him as a potential friend, so I accepted his invitation for coffee. The problem was that, upon returning, he had to head to Cluj for another week, but he wanted us to have breakfast together. It was a shame I was working that day. He came to see me in the morning with flowers, coffee, and cookies, refusing to leave until he’d seen me. That’s basically where our „love story” began—one filled with flowers, romantic gestures, dates, and that kind of wild, all-consuming passion that leaves you completely overwhelmed. Things started to go south after we made it official; he wanted us to be together non-stop, took me to meet his parents, couldn’t go visit his parents without me, fell in love with my cooking and asking me to do it everyday—I was barely making it home once a week, honestly. I was already missing my alone time and my cats. He hated cats. I knew it wouldn’t work the moment he said that, but that didn’t stop me from wasting three months on him. He had a reputation as a player, so I couldn’t fully trust him, and the whole situation was just too much for me to handle. We parted ways on good terms, though, given that we work together, but from that moment i realized I am no longer wifey material.

I’m not yet ready to give up those quiet evenings—coming home from work, kicking off my shoes, and shedding the clothes that kept me „sexy” all day; spending two hours in a bubble bath with a glass of wine because a good book has me more hooked than I intended. I love my evening ritual: skincare, creams, and prepping my hair for the next morning. I’m not ready to give up that first hour of the morning spent sipping coffee and thinking about the day ahead.

Wait, I phrased that wrong. It’s not about „not being ready yet”; it’s about the fact that, if you ask me now, I’ll never be ready to give up my autonomy for the sake of love. To me, even that chair piled high with clothes accumulated during the week is part of who I am—as is the TV series I watch for the tenth time while drifting off to sleep, and the love of my cats from the moment I walk through the door until I leave again the next day.

For me, love no longer means compromise. It means a person who loves you just as you are—completely. With all your quirks, bad moods, and messy morning hair.

Today, at twenty-seven, I am happy and fulfilled within myself. I finally stopped pouring all my love into everyone else and started pouring some of it back into myself, though we never know what the future holds. Perhaps one day I’ll fall so deeply in love that I’ll move to another continent for that person. But right now? I can’t even picture myself walking to the store for a man, because throughout my life—despite all the relationships and attempts along the way—I’ve felt that I only loved once. And when that relationship ended, I was never able to fully open my heart to anyone else again.

I may be uncertain about the future and where life will take me, but for the first time in a long while, I am no longer confused about myself. Every mistake, poor choice, and embarrassing moment has shaped me into the person I am today. I am the only constant in my life. Happiness comes from within; if I’m not at peace with myself, I can’t be anyone else’s. Confusion, too, is a constant in everyone’s life—it arises during moments that seem critical, yet it passes. Just like everything else in life.

Do I have any regrets? Not for a single second. Every decision teaches us something, and I’ve learned that making bad decisions is part of the experience. „If it hadn’t happened, there wouldn’t be a story to tell.” All these stories gave me the chance to create „Women and the City” and share my experiences with others. It is a passion project that shows the younger Sasha that all those moments when she thought the world was ending would, one day, become stories.

Until next time…

Try not to make decisions just for the sake of the plot.

(But if you do, at least make it a good story.)