Eight years ago, I was holding onto my father’s arm as he walked me down the aisle towards my husband. I was happy and giggly, confident what I was doing was the right thing. I was looking forward to experiencing life with my hubby; facing all of the good and the bad as a team.
Now, you know when stories start out that way, they never end well. Ha! This one’s no different. I didn’t even make it to my first wedding anniversary before he decided he didn’t want to be married anymore…at least not to me. He hummed and hawed his way through asking me for a divorce 11 months after we were married. After our state mandated one year separation, he married again, immediately.
In the eight years since my divorce, I’ve dated a few really nice guys. There was an engineer, a musician, an educator, a policeman, a heavy equipment operator…those were good dudes. Then there were duds, like that one guy that had no idea what sushi was (I’m a foodie. I. COULD. NOT. EVEN.). I developed very strong feelings for three of them. Two of them expressed the feelings were mutual. But none of them were willing to commit to a relationship with me. There was always a reason; something more important or pressing in their personal life that needed to be “straightened out” before they could commit. Money issues, ex-girlfriend drama, momma’nem…it was always SOMETHING.
I started to ask myself. Is it me? Is something wrong with me? Is my breath stinky? Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? Is it my American Dad obsession? Is it my sweatpants? Is it the way my clothes come unfastened?
Not one to shy away from self-evaluation, I started asking these dudes. Dude? What’s keeping you from committing? All but one told me there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. It was them. “It’s not you, it’s me.” All but one. The one I reeeaaalllyy liked. The one that made me physically nervous when he entered the room. The one that made my face hot when he smiled at me. The one that…you get the picture. He said these words to me: You are difficult.
Difficult.
I could not comprehend what he was saying. Me? Difficult? Difficult to what? Difficult to leave? Difficult to hate? Me, the Peacemaker? Ms. Whatever You Want To Do? Queen of Adaptation? Mistress of Whatever You Like (not…not that bad lol)?
From him, there was no further explanation. No discussion on what the difficulties were. No interest in telling me how to fix it. No plans on getting together to work it out. (RED FLAG!!)
Were my difficult ways preventing me from getting a man? I did some serious self-analysis. I asked God to show me the error of my ways. I wanted to get a man and be married and stay married. I needed to FIX ME.
Um, no.
THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME.
I am a human woman. I make mistakes. Sometimes I mess up royally. I cuss, I’m messy and simultaneously OCD about cleanliness, I have a super weird sense of humor. No one knows me and my faults and isms better than me. But I’m kind, sweet, loyal, and effing awesome.
Level of difficulty is only a problem when you aren’t prepared for the test.
And that’s the real problem. I haven’t met anyone that is willing to do the work it takes to commit to and remain in a relationship with me. I’m not saying he’s not out there. But here’s what I am saying.
I’m single. And I plan on staying that way.
*Cue the single’s ministry. *
“Oh sista, as soon as you stop looking he’ll show up.
“You have to wait for Boaz to find you, sista! He who findeth a wife…”
“You have to prepare your heart, sista. Stay humble. Keep busy. Make room in your life for your husband. Pray for him daily. He’s praying for you.”
Listen.
All that is probably true. But in 22 days, God willing, I will be 47. SISTAH has to look out for herself. SISTAH has to plan her own life, without hoping and wishing and praying and making room for someone that may never show up. SISTAH gotta live out her purpose!
People that want to live, die every day.
People that want to get married, die single and alone every day.
It’s time for single women to prepare mentally, spiritually, emotionally and financially to take care of themselves, without the contribution of another person, for the long term. Specifically, women with no children. Like me.
Don’t take this the wrong way. This approach to life is not the absence of hope of a spouse. I am by no means bitter or hateful. This is the presence and realization of hard facts.
Marriage is a beautiful thing. Two people working towards one goal is powerful and God ordained. Having the love and support of someone and knowing they always have your back is wonderful. Being a part of a two-person team is BOMB!
But eight years later, I’m still a team of one. And there are still homes to buy, retirement to save for, businesses to start and emergencies to handle. No backup. No second string. No shade. Just facts.
I have to take care of me because I’m the only one that is fully committed to the task.
It’s a new year!! I’m excited about this realignment and new way of thinking. I’m ready to dive deep into God’s purpose for my life and clearing my mind of the clutter from ‘difficulties’, doubts, dudes and dogma.
Anybody out there with me?
Let’s rock 2016 out!
Tonya D. Thomas 