Leaping

"Are you seeing anyone yet?"

I hate this question with the burning heat of a thousand suns.

While I fight back the urge to ask people if they've broken up with their jackass SO's or tell them I'm more interested in a relationship with my right hand, I usually smile politely and answer a simple "No,". I know that most of the people who ask me about my dating life mean well, but it's really none of their business. How do you politely say that? How do you kindly tell your grandmother's friend that she's overstepped the boundaries?

The facts are this: I'm an almost-25-year-old single Mom to a beautiful little boy. I'm also enrolled in an advanced diploma program in Public Relations. I've just completely uprooted my life in an effort to make it better after separating from my husband - six months after we were married. It's been almost ten months since we split up and I am not seeing anyone, nor am I in any rush to. Firstly, can we go back to the beginning? I'm twenty-four years old. I have been pregnant or a parent for almost all of my twenties. I've been in a committed, long-term relationship for all of my twenties until now. Can't I just figure myself out - is that so much to ask?

Some people ask out of concern for my son - "he needs a father, dear". Had my wonderful parents not raised me so well, I would turn around and tell these people (in no uncertain terms) where they can stick that idea. Am I sad that F doesn't have his dad in his life? Yes, I am. It hurts more that my son doesn't have his father around than the breakup ever could have. A big part of the reason J and I were still together was my own narrow-minded idea that he "needed his Dad".  The truth is that F has a lot of wonderful male role-models, like my Dad and my many uncles, cousins and my brother. I always point that out. To me, that's like saying that a same-sex couple can't raise a happy, well-adjusted child or that single-parent households are no more than a breeding ground for would-be criminals. J sends me the odd text saying how much he misses F, but the reality is that he has made no effort to be in his life.

When the timing is right, F and I will be ready to welcome someone into our lives: someone who is going to love us unconditionally, support us emotionally and be involved in our lives. I'm not going to rush it or jump in - it's not just my heart on the line. F has suffered enough loss in his life, he doesn't need someone else to let him down. I remain to believe that his dad can still change, but only J can do that. Only J can decide that he wants to be here for our son. I tried to make that decision for him, and it blew up in my face. I was barely twenty when J and I began dating, and I was 23 walking down the aisle. The last five years of my life have been a mix of joy and despair, but I wouldn't change them. They were spent concentrating on J, and then on our child. It's time for me to spend a little time on me.

I've learned that there are times to leap and times to stay still in life. I am taking a GIANT leap of faith in going back to school - I've put everything on the line. Less than week after school started, the sale of the home F and I have lived in is due to close and my life is up in the air. It's scary knowing that I might not land in my feet, but it's the good scary - like when you're about to go on a first date. The idea of dating someone new is terrifying - like when you're being chased by Zombies. Until I have the good-scary feeling about someone, I'll be rocking it solo.

And who knows: maybe that special person will be waiting to catch me.

XO

Ripples

If you've ever heard the song Over You by Miranda Lambert - specifically, the first verse and chorus - you have a really good idea of how my year has felt:

"Weather man says it's gonna snow/ By now I should be used to the cold/

Mid-February shouldn't be so scary/ It was only December, I still remember/

The presents, the tree/ You and Me

But you went away, how dare you, I miss you

They say I'll be OK, but I'm not going to ever get over you"

 

And there it is, in less than 60 words. The song goes on to describe the grief of a woman whose husband has died. Truthfully, it would have been easier for me to move on had J died, and that might sound like a terrible thing to say, but at least I would have known that it wasn't his choice to not be with us.

 

Christmas is less than two months away now, and I can remember Christmas shopping with him last year. I can remember rushing to try to get into our new home before Christmas. We moved in December 23. We had my parents and Nanny for Christmas brunch, spent time together as a family. We were trying for Baby number two. Our Christmas family photo was the image of a young, happy family. By mid-February, it was just a memory.

 

I felt like I'd never get past that hurt. It washed over me like a tidal wave, a tsunami of emotion that knocked me flat on my ass every minute of every day. I couldn't sleep and I couldn't eat. Without F, I think I would have disappeared. The hurt is still with me today but it comes in little ripples, like when you drop a pebble into a pool of still water.

 

They were right: I got over him.



Ridin' Solo

I hate Roast Beef.

There are quite a few foods I'm not particularly fond of - a lot, actually. Roast beef is top of the list, possibly because it was almost always the meal we had when we visited my ex's family. It was never my favourite meal anyway, but I can remember crowding around that tiny table being pregnant and suffering morning sickness and making sure I didn't let my pregnancy slip because J's family wouldn't approve of it. I was after moving home with my own family before he told his parents - I should have clued in sooner, am I right? (Don't answer that).

I don't like red meat in general, tomato sauces or ketchup. I'm not particularly fond of spicy foods either. Pickles and hot sauce: yuck. I'm even super weird in that I don't really like bread unless it's hot and covered in cheese and garlic butter. Oh, and don't get me started on hot-dogs. Those foods were practically always in the grocery order when J and I lived together, both full and part-time. I always had beer and/or rum in the house for him. We always listened to his music in the car, and more often than not, watched his shows or he played PS3 during our down-time. I bought the stuff and listened to the music, read books while he watched stupid shows and I never once complained because I loved him. But between you and I, I don't miss a single bit of it. (Except for sex. I miss regular sex. With another person.)

Sure, I get lonely and occasionally miss having someone to sit next to on the couch and I would love it if someone else took out the trash, but I'm starting to feel like lately the pros of singledom are far outweighing the cons. Some of the things I'm enjoying about being single might seem like the little things, but they are pretty fabulous if you ask me:

1. No man shows, unless I want to watch them. This includes those ones on SpikeTV involving cars and motors and things I'm really uninterested in. AWESOME. This goes one step further to encompass those shooting/zombie video games that cost almost as much as my bloody grocery order.

2. Not Shaving. I don't have to shave anything unless I want to - which is a great time saver! My mustache is starting to get in the way when I'm eating though... just kidding!

3. Nobody complains about "stinky nail polish". FACT: I love nail polish. I love painting my nails, over and over. I would paint my nails a different colour every day of the week if I had the time and energy to do so.

4. Me-Time occasionally includes painting my nails, but it's also the time I like to spend at my computer, painting actual things, making jewelry, drooling over Channing Tatum and watching stupid shows like Breaking Amish. It's awesome, and as long as Finley is asleep or otherwise engaged, it's all mine.

5. One word: STARFISH. If you don't know what this is, you're missing out. Go try it. I won't bother waiting. Enjoy.

Probably the best part of being single, however, is knowing that I am free to pursue whatever I want. Sure, I have F to think about but I can make decisions based entirely on what is best for me because the fact is, what's best for me includes what's best for F. I don't have to take a job in a certain city based on another person's job, make a meal based on anyone else's preference and I am free to fall in love with whomever and whatever I want. That, my friends, is what I call liberating. And awesome.

So, if you're single like me and missing relationships or jealously stewing over your coupled up friends... rejoice! You can starfish every night! In the meantime, be strong and enjoy your independence and time alone - you never know when you might fall in love again! :)

 

Alone

Is being alone always lonely?

I am a self-professed relationship addict. The past six months have been a practice of being alone - being single. Since I was 15 years old, I have had 5 serious relationships - the last relationship ending in February after almost five years. Being single is something that is quite new to me. Different. Strange. Liberating.

I think I have always been in relationships because I genuinely feared being alone. When I was pregnant with F, I felt that I couldn't raise him alone, that I needed J. I didn't. I don't. I can raise him alone. I can stand up on my own to feet. I can be alone.

Erasing the fear from the word alone hasn't been easy. Moving past the notion that any relationship was better than no relationship was even harder, but here I am: Alone. Sure, I have my friends and I have my family and I have F, but I'm single. On my own. And guess what? Sometimes, it's really hard.

Am I lonely? A little bit. I miss the intimacy of a relationship, that special bond that only you and your significant other share. Ironically, though, I am realizing I am less lonely now than I was in relationships. A good friend told me months ago that I would soon learn a lesson she too had to learn:

There is no loneliness as great as the loneliness of an unfulfilling, unhappy relationship.

 

Being alone is scary at first, but I didn't know how to be alone. I'm not even sure if I know how to be alone now. I hope I don't, to be honest, because this journey has taught me more about myself than anything else I have experienced in my life. And, moreover, I hope that I'm alone until I really do know how to be on my own, because otherwise, I think I'll be missing out on a really big chunk of happiness.

 

No one can own your happiness, it's all yours - and that is a beautiful thing!