I didn’t think I wanted to write about or around Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t sure how a post might be perceived: bitter? annoying? bitchy? At the moment, I feel pleasantly glad for my friends in relationships. Yet it’s a hard day to ignore. It’s Black History Month too, but 90% of what I see online is about creative ways to seduce your partner, links to buy heart-shaped candy, and deals on last-minute romantic getaways. Maybe in an alternate universe, there are pop-up ads with airfare deals to DC to see the MLK memorial. But I’m stuck in this one, where no one’s selling black history, so I’ll keep my focus narrowed for this particular post.
I’m single at the moment. I’m OK with this now; I wasn’t always. I think relationships are wonderful, vital, meaningful, and I hope to be in one again. Thankfully, though, I’ve moved past the stage where every day of single life is another rumbling bell toll toward a solitary death. That stage—experienced mostly in my 20s—was awful. Lots of tears, self-critiquing, jealousy of other women and couples in general, and moaning, “Whyyyyyyy?” to a pitiless God. I’m not sure when and how I moved past it; all I can say is like anything else, it got easier with time. I’m an only child, which probably helped; I’m already accustomed to and comfortable in the quietness of my own company. Without a boyfriend, what was there to do? Simply, everything I would do with one. Some may find me quirky (fine, substitute your own word here, but be gentle) but if my friends or family aren’t free, I dine, see movies, travel alone—things aren’t put on pause because no one’s responding to me on Match.
This leads me into the fantastic, gruesome, awesome world of Internet dating. Wowza!
Continue reading “Downward dogs, cheese plates, and bittersweet chocolate: Ah, February”