Valentine's Day Versus This Single Female...

A week late and a dollar short I’ve decided to weigh in on this dreaded holiday that I once upon a time considered pity party trigger material. It's hard being single. As a member of the table for one club for quite a few years I have a perspective to offer to this particular conversation. Previous postings that have tips on being a single individual are I Majored In Flirting In College & Flirting 101: Continued. My roommate true to form has once again proven a major advantage, 1/2 off candy in the days following Valentine’s Day. I read in the Satanic Bible written by Anton Szandor LaVey that everyone hates lovers, couples. For me it was an envy of their happiness that made me want to eat a gun.

Like most people I assumed I should search for true love, happily ever after and the whole kit and caboodle. I assumed I could find happiness with another human being. A very good friend suggested that being single was a good thing. She said that I was lucky to be single and childless. She is still a wise woman whose opinion I value. When she told me this I finally started to shift my thinking on the single life.

In the last year I've learned that my relationship with myself is the hardest one to maintain. When I compared myself to other people I tend to place me as second, not hoping for first place in someone else's heart. It is through self placement as first in my own heart and with the help of my Higher Power that I've started to see self love as a solution to loneliness. 

I was an only child growing up. Again I was told this was supposed to be a good thing by my peers. I didn't have siblings to fight with or over who was the favorite among my parents. According to both of my parents I was it. The one and only. My bio-dad reminded me often he wished I'd been a boy. He took that a step further and mentored young men when I decided his career choice for me wasn't the right path for me. My mother showed me through example how to be both parents by being a single mom most of my young life. She was my disciplinarian, protector, best friend, and advocate until her death. When she died, my world crumbled and I spent the next few years lost without her guidance.

The yearly round of holidays, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years tend to have me missing her presence. For the first time in a long time I tried to recreate the flavors of her soul by cooking black eyed peas and greens for New Year's Day. Okay, so I cheated on the greens and used canned. I have to say overall it was a pretty good cooking, not quite my mom's but the memory was less painful this past year than in previous years. So I'm calling it a win. 

As I look forward to this year, I'm trying to finish up the final draft of Forced to Change and publish it. My mother taught me to go after my dreams hardcore. From the grave I still feel her encouragement and unconditional love. She died while I was in college and as I move forward in my life it usually hits me hard the achievements she misses in my life. I spent a lot of time fearing and hurting that she didn't get to witness my graduation from college.

When I graduated from college it irritated me that my bio-dad claimed credit for that accomplishment. He went on to belittle my mother's influence and sacrifices. I agree that without his help, I wouldn't have made it through. We often bumped heads as he tried to iron fist me to the finish line, er, graduation day. My mother's death offered me opportunities that I appreciated more in the moment with a lower level understanding of the price I continue to pay, her physical absence from my life. 

My dad and I often had misunderstandings about who I was as a person. In my eyes he often failed to make sure I knew it was okay to be who I am. He constantly conflicted his actions with his words as he told me who he wanted me to be. He pressured me to be his ideal and until his death I continued to feel that pressure while finding that no matter how hard I tried, I disappointed him with my choices. For me it felt as if my parents were divided in their plans for me and until I found a solid religious foundation I couldn't reconcile their battle.

Today, I'm single and loving it most of the time. I try to try to be a better person and work on and own my issues. I pray constantly for my future. I use my past as a road map of who I could be with enough effort and hard work. Writing continues to be a marathon, not a sprint and four years later I still have yet to finish the work on Forced to Change.

As I stare at the finish line, publishing, I've taken a step back to reflect on the person who started this writing project with the one that I am today. So yes still single, but not as lonely. I’ve come to depend on my roommate and I've learned to be a friend indeed. For the time being I've shelved the hope of being #1 in someone else's heart as it is not part of what drives me to succeed or something by which I measure my own success. I leave this up to my Higher Power and I know that what is meant to be will be.



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