At 30 something, I imagined I would be happily married or at least in a serious relationship. Instead I am single and alone. I live with my teenage daughter, my cat and my dog. So I’m an animal hoarder with a child. I imagine this is extremely appealing to the male population.
My marriage plans fell apart this year after an unexpected breakup. You know, my fiancé that I waited for was released from jail, cheated on me and dumped me days later. But, life keeps moving. I’m dating but nothing serious has transpired. And I wonder: will I be knitting blankets for my friends and scrapbooking every Saturday night within the next few years? This is not how I pictured my life.
The strange thing is that the majority of my female friends tell me they’re envious of my “lifestyle.” They live vicariously through my crazy dating adventures, and love to hear about the various maniacs and detached cat owners that I meet. I get it, I live my life on my own terms; I don’t have to compromise; I come and go as a I please. And I get to hit on cute guys. I score (as in get a number, not bang) then call my married girlfriends to tell them all about it.
But, when the call is finished, I am home alone.
So, yes, it’s tough being single at 30 something. Thing is most women my age are self-sufficient and don’t need a man. Destiny’s Child’s “Independent Women”is my anthem – and I’m proud of it.
However, my independence (and theme song) may just be my downfall.
It seems most of the men I meet are suffering from the “savior syndrome.” They tell me they want a woman that has her shit together, then after a few dates and a Facebook friend request the texts stop. And I wonder, what did I do wrong? I log onto Facebook and on my newsfeed I see pics of him and his ex. That’s right, the one he told me had “meth mouth,” three kids and was unemployed. Well, she certainly isn’t bumping out to my jam. Unfriended. And the grueling “single at 30’s” cycle continues.
Still, I don’t hate being single and in my 30s. While I never expected this to be my life, it’s not that bad.
That’s the thing with life: you plan, have expectations and plot, but sometimes you get a curve ball and just have to run with it. A personal mechanism always works. I laugh a lot. If I’m on a dating site and some freak asks if I have muscular calves, I block him. I meet the craziest people. I take the good with the bad. I give glory to God and trust that he has a plan for my life, and I’m truly grateful for my dog, cat and, yes, even my teenage daughter.