What is this blog about you ask?
Well, to put it simply, it’s about my journey. My quest. My destiny. And, more importantly, it’s about the journey of other women who find themselves in similar situations – women on the road less traveled. Let’s talk. I believe we are special.
Four years ago when I was 29-going-on-30 I panicked. I had just broken up with a male (a cheating one no less) and remember dancing wildly at a friend’s wedding. A slow song came on next and I was one of five people in the room that did not have anyone to dance with. It hit me as I looked around the room: Was I destined to dance alone for the rest of my life? I then took myself and a big glass of wine into a corner and cried to the melodic voice of Eric Clapton.
The number 30 to me signified a segway into motherhood and wifehood…and I had neither. This segway is something that has been instilled in me since childhood. Since those bloody fairytales. The resulting messages are that I’ve somehow failed as a woman because I am single and in my 30s. These were not messages I was telling myself necessarily, the messages were hidden subtly within the bombardment of questions and judgment I was getting from everywhere and everyone else. Society’s inquisitive voice is always whispering in my ear: Why aren’t you married yet?
I don’t have an answer. It just hasn’t happened yet.
It’s not for lack of trying. Since this meltdown on the dance floor, I’ve been in two other significant partnerships. Both have sadly ended, and the last break-up completely derailed me. And it’s certainly not for lack of loving either. I wear my heart on my sleeve, both sleeves, actually. I’m all about love. I got enough love for a man that he’s not gonna know what hit him. I love ’til the cows come home. Mooooooooo.
I found myself getting annoyed. Frustrated. Sad. Mad. Empowered. Why can’t I still celebrate my life as a single-ton? Why can’t I be accepted for all of the other stuff I’ve managed to accomplish? Does being single and childless define me? No.
I know I’m not alone in this struggle. There are many amazing women out there in their 30s and 40s who love big and love hard and who happen to be on an alternative path of independence rather than co-dependence.
Quite frankly, the road less traveled has been abundantly fruitful and I am so incredibly proud of my accomplishments. Had I not been placed in this position, I likely wouldn’t have done half of the amazing things I’ve been privileged enough to do.
I’m slowly realizing there’s more than one kind of happy ending…. and more than one path to get there. So this is my happily ever after. Re-defined. It doesn’t follow those traditional fairytale plots. I am re-writing the story.