the first time in 9 years

dreams, life, plans, relationships, single

Holding hands


It dawned on me last week, I'm the most single I've been in… 9 years.  This realization made me stop and think for a second.  Y'know, before the panic of eternal singledom took over.  A quick review and process of my feelings on the subject of being unattached and I realized I was perfectly fine and at peace with the present situation.  Whew.

I remember the last time I was this single.  It was my freshman year at college and I was enjoying the company of a nice enough boy, both of us knowing we would go our separate ways for the summer and that whatever attachment there was between us would not last.  And I was totally ok with it.

Where did that girl go?  I have a good idea, and I'm well on my way to tracking her down.  

It's been awhile, a long while, since there hasn't been someone else to focus on.  Someone to give affection to, or plan with, someone else's feelings to take into account.  It's liberating to just do whatever you want and not think about what he's gonna think or how he's gonna take it. 

I no longer take my phone into the bathroom while I shower so I don't miss a text or call. Which I may or may not have done.  More than once.  

I no longer fix my schedule around his.

I no longer sleep with my phone in the hopes of getting a text in the middle of the night. Only to be disappointed in the morning. 

I no longer check the weather all over the US and Canada to see what it's like where he is.

I no longer check the job listings in places we've been talking about building a life together.   

I no longer need someone else's opinion before I make a choice.

I manage my own money, plan my own vacations, have my own friends.  I manage my own social calendar.  Or lack thereof.

I eat ice cream for breakfast if I want to and watch girlie movies every night.  

I run at my own pace and sometimes I skip it altogether.

And yes, I get loney sometimes, it's the companionship I crave. And I hope at some point in the future I will meet someone who makes my heart flutter and wants to make plans with me, but I'm pretty damn good in the mean time.

It's about time I remember what it's like to be just me.  And with all the plans being made and dreams being realized, who has time for a boy?  I sure don't.

plan a or plan b?

baby, college, dreams, education, gender roles, life, marriage, plan, relationships, single, tradition

Plan b


I realized a while ago that I can't live my life while having regrets about the past.  From exes to decisions about work and school.  Everything is connected and if I am unsettled about one aspect, the others suffer too.

Plan A – College was more about going to find someone to marry and have pretty babies with.  If I got an education in the mean time it was a bonus.  I don't think this perspective was something that was taught to us as impressionable young women on purpose.  But I know a whole generation of women my age who have a similar view on how life is supposed to work.

Plan B – Being the provider was always secondary. “Go to college so you can learn a skill so that if something happens to your husband and he's not able to provide for you and your children then you can do it.”  Always secondary.

I have no issues with traditional gender roles.  The system works beautifully for a ton of people.  On the other hand, it's not something that should be planned on. 

College was more about getting married and starting a family, the thought of supporting myself and living as a single person was definitely Plan B.  Never something I thought I would actually have to do. Though I remember the specific moment when I realized that if I had to live with Plan B for the rest of my life, it was better than what I was currently living.

For a while I was on track with Plan A. I was clicking along at a good pace and then the rug came out from underneath.  I felt as thought someone had come along and hit the reset button without warning me.  Heaven forbid they ask permission to do such a thing.  It took me a while before realizing that no one hit the reset button, I did. 

And now, while things are not as I planned when I was 16, I don't have regrets about the way things have gone for me.  I may be disappointed that certain events didn't turn out differently, but no regrets. And for some reason, disappointment and regret don't quite feel like the same thing.

It's be a while since I felt like Plan A was something I would be able to plan on.  But I've fought to keep it, probably harder than I should have.  And because Plan B was the secondary plan, I never gave it the attention it needed and deserved.  

Only in the last few months have I accepted that Plan A is supposed to be Plan B.  Because I can't really plan on someone sweeping in and sweeping me off my feet and having a hundred pretty babies.  First of all, it's not realistic.  Second, no guy really wants that.  Not like that.

I've experienced a mental shift that makes Plan B the new Plan A.  And now I'm off to conquer  the world by myself.  Because I can't settle for someone doing it for me.  And why would I want them to?