"So when are you going to start dating?"
Really, mom? Really?
I'm quite happy being who I am and being alone. When I'm alone, I can sleep how I want, watch what I want, and I don't have to answer to anyone about my ridiculous work or cleaning habits.
Ultimately, I simply choose to be alone. It's acceptable for us girls to do that you know.
A few years back, I was in a relationship with guy. However, I had a recent epiphany and realized I was in love with love. I was in love with the idea of being in a relationship of someone who I felt didn't judge me. I was in love with the idea of someone who didn't care that I had a child with another man. I was in love with the fantasy of a life I had created for us. I was in love with my bubble.
I didn't want to be alone. I wanted some poor introverted soul to curl up on the sofa with. I wanted someone to go to parties with. I wanted someone to be with. The dream of that perfect relationship sucked me in and I gave myself up to it. Walking through the supermarket, I imagined what life would be like when we got old.
Many months into the relationship, the bubble popped. I realized that I was financing his life. I worked long hard hours while he drove my car, sat on my couch, ate my food, and pretended to be an adult. He lied, gave money to his family without paying any bills for our household, and six months into my pregnancy with our daughter, he decided that life was too stressful to be with us because I was demanding, materialistic, and selfish. Oh, yeah. I hit the ground with a resounding thud. Right on my pregnant ass.
It's taken a little over two years to straighten out the financial damage that he left behind but I'm finally there. It took this conversation, a trip to Target, and some online shopping to realize that I'm better off. I am demanding. I have every right to be. I have fought for this life that I am living, and if someone or something is not up to my standards (yes, you read that right) then I will DEMAND that you get on up out of my life. I am also materialistic. I can afford to be. I wanted a house and a new car. I bought it. I want designer sunglasses, purses, etc., so I buy them. I know what I want and I will not apologize for that, ever again.
My life is far from perfect but I wanted a relationship so badly, I was willing to sacrifice me. I will NEVER do that again. From here on out, if a man wants to sweep me off my heavily calloused feet, he's going to have to fight to prove he deserves to be in life. And he better use a bright pink, glitterific broom to do it.
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