detour

Detour sign

I think many of my single women friends can agree with me that being a middle aged single woman isn’t easy. Certainly, it isn’t the worst thing life can hand you, by far — many people live lives much more challenging than a single woman living in the suburbs. But I think we can agree that this a couple’s world. At least my world is. And moving through life without a partner is hard at times. Satisfying in many ways, but often lonely.

I’m thinking of those times that present challenges that aren’t unscalable, but would be so much better if there was someone else there, if for no other reason than moral support. Fighting with the IRS. Fighting with a teenager. Fighting with the frickin water heater when the pilot light goes out. (So much fighting!) It’s not that I can’t manage those things on my own. I can and I do because I have to. It’s that I’m just tired and I’d really love a person there to say, “It’s ok. You can do this. You aren’t alone.” And maybe also to light the damn pilot light.

So, like many of my friends, I have hoped and dreamed and prayed for that person with whom I can navigate the hard times and celebrate the magical ones. And having found the above methods fruitless, I have turned to the delightful world of online dating.

Know that I tiptoed into that world because of the stories I’ve heard that so-and-so met their spouse on that app and really it’s a numbers game and hang in there and your guy is just around the corner. (I’d like to say on record that many – not all – “coupled” people have this strange vested interest in finding single persons a mate. I’m certain it is with the best intentions, but putting the primary focus on one’s relationship status is by default ignoring all the other awesome things about that person. I can’t tell you how many times the first thing out of someone’s mouth after not seeing me for some time is a variation of, “Are you dating anyone?” “Have you found your Prince Charming?” or “Why are you still single?” There are so many other questions one could ask in that situation. “How are your kids?” “How’s work?” “How’s your backgammon game coming along?” If we put our minds to it, there are lots of options. AmIright?)

Why am I still single? I’ll tell you why. Please let me regale you with a sampling of recent dates I’ve had:

  • The scientist who could not look me in the eye and did not ask one question.
  • The gay Korean pastor (If history has taught me anything… Trust me on this one).
  • The promising VP of a Fortune 100 company who turned out to be a major d-bag. ‘Nuff said.
  • The ecstasy-dropping atheistic pansexual rabbi (I learned these fun facts and many others in one two-hour lunch.) (PS: I had to google “pansexual.”)

Hand to God, these are men I have gotten excited about and then quickly learned… well, you see.

Facebook is no help in building your confidence in this area (shocker). There is this weird phenomenon that comes over me as I scroll through my feed of smiling couples and intact families. I somehow come to the conclusion (delusion?) that I too am promised a fairy tale ending. Now, we all know that what we see on FB isn’t the whole picture, that what people post is a sliver of their real lives and they most likely have struggles like the rest of the people on this planet.  But that doesn’t stop me from hating them a little bit.

I am FB friends with a particular woman who is a knock-out. Dazzling smile, gorgeous figure and a perfectly lovely person. I also know that she has had her share of tragedy. Truly, she has suffered hardship I cannot fathom. She was recently divorced and then very quickly found a hunky, tall, successful man whom she married. Bitch.

I KNOW. I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON AND I AM GOING TO HELL. LEAVE ME ALONE.

I was jealous. All I saw was that she found a guy and was incredibly, outrageously happy. I was so stupidly jealous. I may or may not have unfollowed her.

———-

A few lame dates later, I was having lunch with a dear friend I’ve known for decades. After I shared with him my tales of dating woe, I said, “You know, I think I’m due. I think I’m owed some sort of back credits, right?”

This is what he said: “Why the hell do you think that?”

“Sure, your life didn’t turn out the way you thought, but really?” he continued. “Laura, there is no guarantee you’ll find a partner to spend your life with. And so what are you going to do with that? Be sad and bitter the rest of your life?”

I sat there dumbfounded.

No one had ever said that to me before. Seriously, people all around me say, “You’re going to find someone any minute now.” Or, “The right guy is just waiting for you.” Or something equally as patronizing.

Until now, no one has ever said, “What if he isn’t? What will you do with that?”

In that moment, I realized, consciously or not, I had been pinning my future onto some unforeseen person that may not exist. Holy crap. Now that is delusional. Since then, I haven’t stopped thinking about that possibility. That my future may not involve a soul mate with whom I share my life. I am thankful that I am capable of building a good life for myself and my kids, but the idea of doing it alone takes a minute to get used to.

So. What to do.

Here’s what I know:

I have an incredibly satisfying life.

I have two daughters I am proud of beyond expression.

I have a deep bench of faithful friends, without whom I wouldn’t be standing.

I am loved.

I will never be alone.

And though self-pity sometimes rears its ugly head, if I can remember the truth, if I can take a breath and remember what I already have, I will be okay.

I will be more than okay.

I will be FABULOUSLY okay. And that is something, for sure.

–ld

both and

DISCLAIMER: This post includes complaint but not lament. It is a No Pity Zone. I’m just keeping it real and have a feeling a few in my tribe can relate. Are we clear? I love you people. Okay, now, read on…

I had this idea about life after divorce. I thought once the dust settles, the dating life would be fantastic. I thought if I could just get through this really crappy time, I just knew it would be awesome. There would be dates and trips and parties and fun! As soon as that Facebook status moved to Single, there would be no stopping me! I’d join That Online Dating Site and I’d be inundated with men wanting relationships with me! I’d better buy some cute outfits in advance because I will have places to go.

tweet this.

tweet this.

It’s not like that.

The reality is, for many of us, single life is just life. Simply put, there’s a lot of down time. A lot of time where our date is Charles Shaw (don’t judge) and we find ourselves flopped on the beige couch on a Saturday night binge-watching Sex And The City. Or worse: Wife Swap.

I know, I know. People say, “Give it time.”

“There’s someone out there for you.”

“I know this great guy you might like…”

And worst of all: “We pray every day for the right man to come along for you.” Please pray for the Ebola victims, not for this.

In my limited experience of dating at this time in my life, I can tell you this: it’s exhausting. The small talk, the telling the same stories, the having to be funny/charming/cute. The Spanx! Don’t get me started. The Spanx alone are enough to confirm one’s calling to a convent. (But may it be in Provence, please, dear Lord.)

Some people love the fun of dating. Of meeting lots of people. Of just getting out there to have fun. Turns out, my original Facebook fantasy doesn’t fit me to a T. I’m not like that. The thing I want, I think what a lot of us want, is companionship.

I like getting dressed up (read: Spanx) and going on fantastic dates. But I want to do it with Someone. Someone I know in the deepest places of his heart and mind and who knows me in the same way. Someone I’m not trying to impress. I don’t want to be on my best behavior. I want us to be comfortable enough to not be perfect or witty or clever or trying so dang hard. I want to watch a movie on the couch in drawstring pants and no mascara and make a run for French fries or another bottle of wine. I want to have conversations that matter and conversations that are ridiculous. I want to laugh with him at potty humor even though it’s not lady-like. I want to talk about the places we fall down and the ways we get back up again. I want to talk about how we can change the world and really mean it.

I know a lot of women in this space want that. So what do we do in the waiting? I don’t know. But what I do know is… who are we kidding, I got nothin’. I know nothing.

Those days that feel hopeless and lame and sad and you’re just trying to keep it together…

Then those days when you feel all SJP at her cool New York best and you’re awesome and really okay.

All those days are part of it, I guess. The “Where are you, Someone?” days and the “I’m crushing it!” days. All true.

I’m nothing if not a big hairy ball of contradictions and I’m in all of that. My thoughts swing from one extreme to the other through the course of 24 hours. And what I do know…okay, this time I really do know at least one thing… is that it’s all going to be fine. We are going to be fine. Better than fine. We may not figure it all out, but we will be wondrous in the confusion and beautiful in the trying. No matter what.

In fact, I’m pretty sure we already are.

-ld

I googled "corny love images" and got this.

PS: I searched “corny love images” and got this.

flying lessons

birds

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird fly Blackbird fly

Into the light of the dark black night.

 

A bird with broken wings, black feathers, yearning to break free. Singing into the desolate darkness. That paradoxical refrain, “…into the light of a dark black night.” An image comes to mind of a sliver of moon or winking stars behind the clouds, the slightest glimmer of something more.

I’ve always loved that song. I’ve read it’s about the civil rights movement and some say it’s about South Africa. It reminds others of the afterlife, breaking free. Regardless of the interpretation, it’s a song of pain and of hope. It’s a song of testing and overcoming. I hear it and it fills me with the idea that I too can courageously fly.

As I have moved through the pain and brokenness of divorce, this song has resonated. There were moments when I doubted the light would ever come. When the agony was visceral and all I saw was darkness. Friends assured me it would get better, but I didn’t believe them—I couldn’t believe them. There was no room in my heart or head for hope. So my friends held that hope for me. And slowly, so slowly, I realized they were right. There would be a moment or a comment or a song that offered the slightest glimmer of light. Of breath. Of something more. These glimmers began to multiply and pile up and glow and reflect all over me and one day I realized I was standing in the Light. Full Light that cast out the darkness. I looked around and stood up straight and took a deep breath. And I took wing.

I’m not suggesting that all is rosy and life is perfect. Nope. I’m recognizing the miracle that I’m still breathing and laughing and crying and living. That I fall down and I have the strength to get back up. That through this season, my wings were broken yet I am healing.

Part of that healing for me is writing again. And part of flying for me now is sharing my writing with you. This terrifies me. It’s one thing to pour out your heart and your brain into your laptop with secure passwords. It’s a completely different thing to put it out there for folks to read. Here’s my baby…do you think my baby is pretty? But somehow, I feel like it’s time. Thank you for being part of this journey.

I believe that no matter how dark our surroundings, there is always the slightest glimmer to be found. We all have our blackbird moments, and broken wings or not, the Light finds us. We limp our way towards it and we learn to fly again.

-ld