single.

It’s never sat right with me—calling myself by that term. *SINGLE* Defining myself by the thing I lack. 

I will sometimes say “divorced,” but that makes it seem like a situation I put myself in by choice, not something forced upon me. And telling people you’re “abandoned” or "rejected" are the conversational equivalents of turning inward in an elevator…awkward. Also, those relationship statuses do not exist on Facebook...

So, for now, I go with single.  I’m single. I’m a single mother. I’m a single, working mother.

Yeah.

I have diligently tried over the last two, maybe three, years to not let my relationship status deter or define me. I didn’t want my conversations with people to go something like:

Person: “Lovely day out there!”

Me: “Yeah, but I’m not married.” (sad face)

Person: “Have you eaten at that new Italian restaurant on Main?”

Me: “How could I? I don’t have anyone to take me. I’m single.” (big sigh)

Person: “You look nice today.”

Me: “Oh really? No one else seems to notice, because I’m still unmarried…” (wipe tear from eye)

I have known THAT person before. I admittedly, on my worst days, can be THAT person. I often blog about what it is to be that person. It’s hard, once you know that ‘together’ is a better way to live, to keep plugging along on your own, exhaustively doing the work that was always designed for two.

But once I figured out re-marriage was not going to come as quickly to me as I’d thought, I got busy living. I’ve said it before. I probably even sound like a broken record at this point. Sorry about that.

Anyway, I chose to "live on" not only because someone anxiously serving, developing their talents, and working to accomplish goals is more attractive than someone moping around wondering when love will ever find them, but because I was genuinely more happy once I lost myself in my life and in possibility.

I guess what I never expected was that situation—being anxiously engaged-- actually scaring off some potential suitors. Men who immediately looked at my life, my schedule, my lofty list of goals, the kooky hours I keep, and thought…that girl has no time for me. Or she’s too busy to ask out. Or, say they understand that I’m busy and are still willing to ‘give things a try’ dating, only to end up feeling last on my list, put off, ignored, scheduled in.

“When you meet the right one, you’ll make time, Jennifer.” I’ve heard that. Numerous times. And I think it's true. I know it was easy to make time for Dr. Yummy, though he was about as busy as I was. We managed to make the best use of hour-long bursts of being together, and do consistent, creative things to let one another know we were thinking of the other. It was enough for me.  Though, things not working out with him quadrupled my anxiety to even start giving others too much of that precious time of mine.  I let him start helping out when he offered, easing some of my burdens, counseling with him when I had a problem--and then had to re-feel the weight of losing all that when he left.  Like a million dollar investment that went belly up.  

Not that I haven't met some men who weren’t potentially worth the re-investment, but because my time isn’t about me “pampering myself,” it’s about me surviving...

 My boys get the first big hunk of my spare time. Every minute I can squeeze in beyond them is spent doing extra work to bring in extra money so desperately needed FOR them. Then there’s my writing, which demands daily attention to continue to improve and work towards publication in order to better our time and financial situation as quickly as possible. And short but rigorous and regular exercise bouts to keep my heart healthy, my head clear, and my mood happy.  My house doesn’t clean itself and drives me batty when I let it get too messy and have to spend an entire free Saturday trying to get it back in order, so regular housework is necessary. Finally, there are friends who I adore and want to do things with or support in their endeavors as they've always supported me, church work, and family members to visit—especially my aging grandmother and in-laws who need me to come to them.

So, it’s a lot for one woman. 

Also, there's scaling that massive brick wall of fear. Of not wanting to be hurt more/again.

And I wonder if I will ever have a relationship work out again with someone not as chaotically scheduled as myself. If it would be fair to stick myself on someone 'nice and normal' or unintentionally make them feel unimportant, even if they are they extremely important. Even if I love them deeply and am doing the best I can. If they can do better than me in giving time, than my best probably doesn’t feel like enough.

I HATE hurting people. I don’t think I was put on this earth to date, knowing that in that situation there's so much potential for hurt on both ends.  I've been at the giving and receiving end of it. Though I know searching and trying is part of the journey to get you to the best person for you, every relationship of mine that ends badly/sadly/at all, makes me wonder if I dare try again. If “single” and “busy” are eternal curses for me, even though I really am happy most of the time.

Anyway, I didn’t know if anyone else might be feeling burdened with the label. Or with the fear of starting again. Or with the balance. Or with finding things to give up in order to create necessary time for someone else. And what you even can give up. If you’ve figured out a way, let me know. If not, you’re not alone. Except you are—you single person, you :).