this isn't my do-over...but it's pretty darn close

Before I got engaged waaaay back in 1994, my life was amazing. Every day was an adventure. And if it wasn't...I made it one.

Still new in my faith, I devoured every piece of scripture I could get my  hands on and built a strong, lasting relationship with my Heavenly Father that continues to this day. I was also in the most incredible shape of my life--sprinting stadium stairs for two hours at a pop and doing a million-billion inverted sit-ups. I was writing poetry and nonfiction passionately, with professors cheering me on, asking to publish my stuff in their upcoming textbooks and to arrange for me to do a reading. I had a fabulous group of friends. I had a cool job working at the local frozen yogurt/ice cream place that everyone hung out at. I got to spend the majority of the summer living by myself in the apartment I had previously shared with other girls. Because I was practically the only female left on campus that summer, I must have looked really attractive--the entire Ricks College baseball team wanted to take me out (one at a time...not as a team. Though that would have been time saving). I could listen to Erasure as loud as I wanted, all day long. I had an invitation to join the clogging team the next year on a tour of China (Yes. I clogged. Don't judge me.) And I had plans to finish up my German degree and move overseas.

I also had this awesome friend turned boyfriend who wanted to marry me.

Which scared the bejeebers out of me.

I was only 19, for crying out loud! I told him I was young, he told me he was, too (21). I asked him how we would support ourselves, he told me he would always take care of me--work two or three jobs if he needed to. I told him all those things I wanted to do--publish my poetry, clog in China, live in Germany--at least for a little while. And he told me....he would wait. He told me to go do all those things and he would be there when I got back.

And suddenly none of those other things seemed important. I knew he would, indeed, wait for me. But I also knew that it would be a huge gamble, leaving such a perfect guy behind at a school with a highly uneven female-male ratio.  Just the fact that he offered to wait meant as much as him actually doing it.

I left the baseball team dating behind, accepted his proposal, fell madly, deeply, passionately even more in love with him, and we were married six months later.

You know how that ended.

So fast forward to today. Not today as in January 23rd, but today as in *present time.*

It's funny how my life has looped itself back around.

My faith is still the anchor of my soul, and has grown as I have allowed God to take over the 'provider' role in my life these last years. I'm not as thin as I was in college, but I am in unbelievable shape--running, boxing, dancing, cycling, skating, lifting weights. I'm writing again, obviously, with several publications  now under my belt. I have not one but five cool jobs, and the best job of all--being a mom. Though I'm picky about who I choose to accept them from, I'm at no shortage for date offers. I can listen to Erasure as loud as I want, all day long. I've got fairly good odds for getting into an MFA program and making a move to California.

So here I stand clinging fiercely to my independence, not wanting to mess up the comfort zone I've created, this 'happy place' I've found on my own. Thinking about the caliber and type of man that it would take to talk me out of this place, especially with the streak of bad luck I've had. Wondering if I'll ever be able to make space or time for him. I'd like to think yes. But, thus far I only tend to fall in love with men who intimidate me to the point of trembling, and I'm not so sure that's a healthy thing :)

I guess being in this spot has taught me a lot about those 30-something men and women who have never been married. I always wondered, HOW?! Didn't they want to be with someone? And I suppose they did/do just as much as me. But the longer you go on your own, the more comfortable you get, the more goals you set for yourself to accomplish, the harder it is to want to give it up. Selfish? Maybe.

I think the worst part is the cobbling together I do of the best parts of all the various men I've dated: I'd like this one's looks, that one's sense of humor, the other guy's spirituality, talent like Guy B, if they could all kiss like Guy D--that'd be awesome. I don't know that it's fair to assume one man will ever encompass it all....but I still wonder, maybe, if I just hold out a little longer. Dangerous.

Anyway, this is supposed to be a positive post. Really. I've never looked at my life post-divorce as being some grand "do-over". I have, gratefully, and over time, grown to see it as a type of expansion on the life I had. A unique, though unchosen, time to step back into that place where possibilities are limitless. Hopefully, some day, I'll find someone who can make me not forget all I've started to work towards, but build on it with me. And I totally plan on doing my share of helping to catch his dreams too. Yup.