I love you all.
But please. For the love of everything that is holy, just stop.
Two years ago to the day (give or a take a few), I was sitting in the middle of my kitchen with my then husband, debating our endless “should we get a divorce?” pros and cons list. And much to our lack of surprise, we fought through every single reason, in every setting possible – on the couch in marital counseling, in the car back from Sonic, and at that infamous kitchen table. Sometimes with dinner present, but most of the time the table was bare – save for a glass of wine, tumbler of scotch, and depending on the issue at hand, a box of tissues in the near vicinity for good measure.
It was two years ago that my marriage, after a fairly lengthy downward spiral into nothingness, came to a quiet end.
August of 2014 marked the official finalization of my divorce and beginning of my first ever period of singledom.
Which is why I am especially troubled by the reaction of certain people in my life as I reach 24 (BRIEF) months of ring-free independence; a milestone that I genuinely honor as an accomplishment in regards to personal growth and recovery from a time in my life that was less than positive. I am, in many ways, immensely stronger and happier now as compared to my final days as a married woman.
But alas, even in 2016, women aren’t celebrated for how they feel internally.
I can stand here, screaming from the mountaintops (hilltops? Texas fail) about how my work, family, and female friendships provide me with the utmost fulfillment, but for some, it will all fall on deaf ears. No, sadly, unless I’m romantically attached to a man, those aforementioned attempts to convince others of my happiness completely evaporate into the atmosphere.
In the months immediately following my divorce, I entered into relationship after relationship; some more promising than others, but all for the wrong reasons- because it was all that I had ever known. As a girl who went from high school boyfriend to college boyfriend-turned fiancé, the concept of being single was, back then, a foreign one. Hence the fact that I devoted ample energy into that realm of my life, simply because it offered a return to comfort – companionship, even when strained and dysfunctional, proved to be far more familiar than the alternative.
Until, of course, I realized the great harm it caused.
The television-trained psychologist in me would dive deep into the how’s and why’s of my pursuit of men who were absolutely wrong for me, but the girl who lacks the patience for hours of introspection just shrugs her shoulders and says shit, I’m glad I’m over that. (Cue the eyeroll and smile.)
Which is why, when I cheerfully tell people that I am single and get the puppy dog eyes in return, I want to (nicely) scream in a preschool-inside voice and explain that this – my life here, in this moment – is great, and exactly where I need to be.
So, to those who wish I would “try harder” to meet someone and settle down:
I did. At age 19, during the second week of college when I should have been living a carefree, commitment-free life, and not even taking a marriage/motherhood timeline into consideration, I settled the hell down. But like many only children who came before me, I strove to grow up at lightning speed and race past anything resembling youthful adolescence.
You got your wish when I turned 24 and became a wife. And owned a house. And launched into adulthood with the utmost success, never once complaining about the wild college years that I missed out on because I chose a relationship over girls’ night out and frat parties.
And now I am here – living a life that, for the first time, aligns with exactly what I want, and not what I think others expect of me. And yes, it involves living sans boyfriend or husband, but if I am here to make any statement whatsoever, it is this:
Just like all of those awfully cheesy fridge magnets and self-help books tell us, day in and day out, it’s damn true: happiness comes from within.
Within. Inside. Internally.
And I’m happy, for the first time in years. So please, find yourselves a hobby or summertime craft, and shift your attention away from me and onto something more worthy of your concern.
That being said, when I ultimately meet The One, you’ll be the first to know.
xoxo,
Nicole