I’m a single girl. Unintentionally so.
Let me start by saying, I have dated some amazing men. Men that have really loved and protected me, even from myself at times. I came up with unintentional single girl a few years ago as I started to enter the insanity of the online dating world. Friends, if there is a bad date in Nashville to be found, trust you me, I have been on it! As my friends and I have laughed about each story over the years everyone has said to do a blog including some of the stories, so here we go.
A few things about being single: I think it’s entirely a shame that as men stay single and age they get to be called “bachelors” and when women do it, they’re called “old maids” or “spinsters”. I think the idea that single men just haven’t chosen the right girl while women simply haven’t BEEN chosen is an absolutely mean tragedy. That said, I’d love to be married and I’ve been asked a couple times. The first time I said yes, but knew in my heart it was a no. I was young, he was amazing and probably still is but I felt my world just got smaller with him instead of bigger. I just couldn’t resign to that at 19. The second time was…confusing. We did some things right and other things wrong and it fell apart.
As for my everyday life:
I have traveled the world and Italy remains my favorite country and Florence my hometown. I am in close touch with people and things I love, though I could always stand to be closer. I am a writer and prefer to fight my battles one cursor blink at a time. I’m a realist and an idealist and a romantic all rolled into one. (Could that be why I’m single? Ha ha ha) I’m a benefit of the doubter, in my good moments. And something not quite so lovely in my bad ones. I’ve always wanted kids, still do, though options of how to make that happen seem to change and flow as the years go by. Since there’s no one but me to do the “honey do” list (tell me what that feels like to just hand a list to someone!!) I’ve become, through necessity, independent about handling my house. I can move every piece of furniture that I own and have assembled the things that needed assembling in my house by myself, for the most part. And I feel extremely brave. Not quite because I am but because I’ve become a killer of scary bugs crawling around my house; though I wish my 32 lb cat Abbey Mae would earn her keep more in that area. As for me, I love Mother Nature, until she crosses the threshold of my door, then all bets are off. I do it because it’s better than the alternative of waking up with said bug you never killed on your pillow. Trust me. Take chance out of the equation and face the horror the first time, cuz the second time, you’ll never be able to use that pillow again. These are the things single women have to think through. But having to do it all, means I don’t really ask for help well. I power through it, I take on the extra load I can’t really carry well and I don’t complain. And pretty much that’s how it goes. Perhaps though there’s revelation in the process of being a single woman, in her 40’s, at this point in time. I plan to dig in and invite you to do the same!