Singledom

I sat there in that sea of people…one unknown man to my left. Another unknown man to my right. I was alone. I knew that somewhere…rows behind me…my best friend’s parents were there. Somewhere in the church at least two of my acquaintances were present.

My high from the love, giddiness, and all around goodness from my time in Waumba Land that morning with an amazing group of 4-year-olds was wearing off. Why? …because I was alone.

I am single for the first time in my adult life. For the first time…in over seven (seven?….seven.) years. I never “needed” someone. At least that was what my conscious-level brain knew. And in all reality, I did not “need” anyone. I have been perfectly self-sufficient for a long time…(for more than seven years).

So why the guy? Why the man? Why the need to have someone by my side? Was it a need? Subconsciously, I believed a lie. Somewhere deep down inside I believed that I wouldn’t make it alone. Even more than that, I think allowed myself to believe that it was my responsibility to try to help make another person happy..and that, ultimately, would make me “better.” (What the f*$k that means.)

[At this point we all need to pause and dissect the previous phrase: “try to help…MAKE…another person (who is not myself, who I have absolutely no control over)…happy.” HUH? My now much more logical, rational, and healthy brain recognizes the absurdity of this statement.]

I have never even been good at forcing myself to be happy. I have, for a long while now, mastered the art of appearing happy…but I think that’s one they teach us in middle school somewhere along the way…and one that we should abandon. Just my opinion…we can disagree. Seriously though…where do we learn that?

Is it when we’re called fat and then told not to cry? Or when we’re told to suck it up? Is it when we’re mocked when we cannot perfectly do a math equation on the white board (or chalk board…depending on your style [::ahem:: or age…]) in front of the entire class? Is it when someone notices that we don’t dress just like “everyone else,” but it’s what makes sense to us? …So we just pretend not to care?

I digress…another day for my feelings on all of the different “masks” that we wear.

So I’m single. And have never been single as an adult. That’s weird. [If at this point you know anything about my story…and feel the need to judge me…please see the previous six months of my thoughts on this blog. Then email me if you have any questions. Or just judge on Judgy McFee…that’s completely your prerogative too.]

I stood in church…surrounded by hundreds of people…and knew…I was completely and utterly alone. No ring on this finger. No man coming to stand by my side (except for the two strangers who were much taller than me towering over me, of course). A flood of thoughts came rushing through my brain, snippets of things I’ve heard, stereotypes we carry…and, in that moment, I was threatened to be washed away.

“…everyone gets married by thirty…by thirty you’re old…your eggs begin to shrivel…you know it’s the Southern way to get married and have babies…we were high school sweethearts…nothin’ better than a stay-at-home-mom…I must get married soon…I’m getting old (says the 32 yr old)…men stop wanting to date at this age (says the 35 yr old)…I’m going to be an old maid…I’m definitely going to have cats…lots of cats…’cat lady’…being single in this city sucks…it’s so hard to meet new people…bars…awkward church settings…how can anyone meet the right one!?” 

ARGH. Who SAYS these things? (Besides all of the people I have heard say them and the underlying whispers on the wind that we only sometimes acknowledge?) 

I have to say…my life and interests have afforded me the opportunity to have a diverse group of friends. I have older friends, younger friends, married friends, newly married friends, gay friends, divorced friends, single friends, remarried friends…

[And it would be easy to stop there, right? To define people by their relationship status. You wouldn’t have flinched.]

But this same group of people includes…clean eaters, fitness freaks, people who are not coordinated, people who can dance circles around J Lo, friends who are nerds, friends who are vegans, friends who are book smart, friends who aren’t book smart, friends who are short, and tall, and nurses, and teachers, and moms, and dads, and mentors, and students, and professors; leaders, Christ followers, Buddhists, good cooks,  “tech people,” and general overall awesomeness in their own unique way.

I have found, since receiving this new, weird label of “single,” something that only post-college singles know…it get’s a little weird. It can be strange to find your “place.” It can feel awkward. 

Yet…it is also awesome.

I will not go on about all of the contributions, authenticity, and opportunity to be GREAT that singles have and are. Because you probably already know that.

I simply want to send out a reminder that…you cannot be put in a box. (Okay, well maybe if you want to be put in a box then I suppose that works…and, again, totally your prerogative. ;)) I cannot be put into a box. I will not be put into a box. I hate boxes. (Sorry, squares.) I am not defined solely by the fact that I am a single person. In the same way that my whole being cannot be summed up with any one of the following:

Jesus follower

Yogi

Redhead

Student

Daughter

Mistaker

Sister

Teacher

Mentor

Leader

Helper

Follower

Silly

Awesome

Weird

Writer

Disciple

Photographer

Artist

Creator

Lover

Explorer

Single

Cheers to complex and awesome, you! 

[More thoughts to come…for now, I’ve already said too much.]

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