A young woman whose best friend has started dating is worried she will never be with anyone herself. Mariella Frostrup says the first step is to throw off her self-pity
The dilemma I'm 21, I've never had a boyfriend, and something tells me I never will. Recently my best friend, who I've known since kindergarten, met someone – her first boyfriend ever. I'm happy for her, but it has made me realise how lonely I actually am. I don't like showing my emotions because in my family emotions are regarded as a weakness. People around me think I'm heartless because I always have a stone face no matter what, but on the inside I feel happiness, pain and pleasure like any normal person. I think this lack of emotion on the outside probably makes people from the opposite sex not want to be with me because I'll never giggle like an idiot just to make a guy think he's funny. The only one who can "read" my emotions is my best friend. I was tested at school and they said I have a higher than normal IQ. I love reading, I love learning new things, and I'll never fake not knowing something just so another person can tell me about it. This pushes people away from me – they think I'm rude and just won't talk to me. No one knows how hollow and lonely I am. I think I'm going through a depression or something, because I'm always angry and I've stopped laughing. I haven't laughed out loud in months. Please don't tell me: "Think positive!"
Mariella replies Don't worry, I won't. I will, however, address your rather skewed notion of how to be attractive to the opposite sex. I can't deny that there are men out there whose penchant is for a girl to giggle at their pathetic jokes and feign inferior intellect in order to elevate them in their own mythology. Luckily they aren't the sort of partner that any woman with half a brain cell, let alone the multitude you are clearly blessed with, would want to date.
Experiencing a sense of failure because you've failed to snare a boyfriend through Oscar-worthy thespian skills is wholly irrational. At 21 you are barely at the beginning of adulthood. At this time you are far better working on your ability for meaningful interaction than on your flirting skills.
I'm impressed that you and your best friend have held out so long against the allure of the boys in your peer group. Watching kids today so eager to grow up that they're accessorising with a partner before they're mature enough to remember to brush their own teeth is pretty depressing. I'm wondering if it's your friend's perceived dating technique that you savage in your letter. You say she only recently hooked up with her boy, so you're not really lagging behind, but the loss of her full attention may be hard to bear.
You won't be the first to mourn the passing of the intensity of teenage friendship. I'd certainly give some consideration as to how that has impacted on you, and give your reaction some honest scrutiny. Relationship highs and lows are extreme in youth, and the more you can build up your confidence before you take the plunge, the more rewarding any union will be.
You say things like you'll never "giggle like an idiot", which is troubling, because sharing laughter with someone is not to be disparaged. The sensation that someone gets you, whether male or female, friend or lover, is one of life's real gifts. If you're fretting about how you are perceived and self-conscious about expressing yourself, then you are building quite an obstacle to friendships, let alone any prospective lover. It's not the job of others to peel away the artifice and hunt out your unique core, neither is there anything to fear in revealing yourself in all your complicated emotional glory.
Understanding the legacy of being raised not to show your feelings and attempting to break from your conditioning are separate challenges. Having identified the first, it's time you moved on to the second.
I can't claim any further Damascene insights into your character than those which you've already highlighted, but my overall sense is that you are in the throes of a great deal of resentment and self- pity, neither of which is conducive to the emotional abandonment you hunger for.
It's wonderful to have a best friend with whom you enjoy a profound and instinctive communication, but as you grow into adulthood, self-reliance is the holy grail. You are young, smart and aware of what you need to work on. If you can't shake your melancholy, ask your GP for help, but I'm pretty sure you can get there on your own two feet.
If you have a dilemma, send a brief email to mariella.frostrup@observer.co.uk. To have your say on this week's column, go to guardian.co.uk/dearmariella. Follow Mariella on Twitter @mariellaf1