I am the ever cliché single woman in her thirties. After a long relationship, followed by a shockingly short marriage and a rather painful divorce, I find myself in that strange position of being single in a world that I am seeing change all around me. In this weird position I feel like I am watching everyone become “grown-ups” while I struggle to fill my social calendar with my friends as I compete with their children and significant others. I find that the only time I can go out is to either hang out with twenty-somethings who don’t quite fit my head space and are far too hip for me or my girlfriends, who are amazing and always appear to be entertained by my single life stories, but inevitably I find myself at a loss of how to advise them or even really being able to relate to what has become huge parts of their lives and vice versa. I have no projectile poop story to share and laugh about. I assume that if that ever happens to me that I will suddenly be enlightened by the hilarity vs. the horror of that. Now if you just became horrified by the thought of a projectile poop situation…you don’t have children. If you laughed, you clearly know the secret to the hilarity. I also have no birth story to compare and when it comes to relationships, mine have been so insignificant these past few years that if they annoy me I just break it off or ignore them for a week or two, instead of having to face the reality of seeing that person every..single…day. For..evvvv..vvver.
Now don’t get me wrong, I want to eventually meet someone that annoys me forever. (That’s where I am going with this…promise)
So okay…we have established that I am an alien in a world full of babies, SUVs , Subarus, and a sudden weird parent bond when it comes to disgusting, gross situations that can only come with kids and marriages. What I haven’t mentioned is that in these past couple of years, three in March actually, I found myself in a really great place. I am pretty happy. Happier than I ever remember being. I love my job, have great friends (poop stories or not), and have a fantastic relationship with my parents. I teach amazing cooking classes for the community that brings me so much joy that they never feel like work. I run and LIKE it (87% of the time). I feel creative. I feel healthy. I have never felt more beautiful and I am happy in my own skin like never before. Now that sounds like a disclosure before the storm and in reality it kind of is. I honestly feel like what I am going to be sharing with you in my future posts will potentially create the same reaction that I have to the projectile gross body stories. Horror…disbelief and awe at times. You need to know that I am okay. I am happy and I do know that eventually I will meet the person I want to annoy and want to have annoy me for the rest of my life. I am not worried (generally). So please don’t feel sorry for me, or hook me up with your 40-something co-worker who hasn’t dated since My So Called Life was on TV. Just because he has a job and owns a home, does not make him a good match for me. I know better when he is called “quirky”. (GOT THAT ERICA & BRIAN?!)
Dating in your thirties is NOTHING like dating in your twenties. I have decided that I will share some of my dating stories. Frankly, they deserve to be shared. Get ready for the train-wrecks ladies and gentlemen…and welcome to my dating life. Coming up… JewPac.
