Being well over thirty, childless and single with no prospects on the horizon has caused others to look at me with such sadness in their eyes.
As they tell me, “Don’t worry, it will happen one day”, I can’t help but to feel their sense of hopelessness being transferred to me. Sometimes I get fed up with these scenarios so I start talking about my cat and tell them I plan to get a couple more. Instantly I can see the wheels churning in their heads, picturing me as an old spinster with a house full of cats.
The look of concern and disdain is priceless.
Why should I feel like my life is incomplete just because I’m single?
Now, don’t get me wrong, I would love to meet a wonderful man, get married and start a family. But if that is not how my story ends up being told, should I ball up in a corner and cry about it? Should I walk around thinking my life is without purpose or incomplete?
I am going to enjoy the life I have now. I am going to take full advantage of my freedom and catch an impromptu show or travel the world. Who says there is only one way to have a happy and fulfilled life?
If I sat around thinking about all of the things I don’t have, I would fail to appreciate all that I do.
Some time ago I adopted the motto: “Eyes on your own paper.” I told myself not to worry about what others had going on in their lives and to focus on what was happening right in front of me.
Instead of focusing on my family and friends who are married with children, I focus on being the fun Auntie and being grateful that I can send those kids home at the end of the day.
I know that I do not need to have children of my own in order to impact a child’s life.
People seem to think being a woman over a certain age, single, and childless is equivalent to walking around with a scarlet letter on your chest. If so, I will proudly display that scarlet letter.
Besides, red is my favorite color anyway.
I will walk with my head held high and not allow the expectations of others to become a stumbling block to my happiness. I realize no good can come from trying to live up to other people’s standards. If they want to be sad about my situation that’s their prerogative, but I will not wallow with them.
It makes no sense for me to fixate on what is “missing” in my life. What good would that do?
To all of my concerned family and friends I say: please don’t worry about me or my current situation. Instead of pitying me, how about you rack your brain and think of a nice, stable, single man who doesn’t live at home with his mother? As they say, “If you’re not a part of the solution, you’re a part of the problem.” I would prefer to see their energy devoted to something productive instead of those destructive thoughts of pity and disappointment.
I am not disappointed with my life. I know I am blessed, and having a personal resume that differs from those around me does not mean my life is void of happiness.
Happiness is what you make it, so I will continue to keep my eyes on my own paper of life and appreciate all that I have.
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