Today is my birthday, and before I say anything about that, if you've been sitting on the edge of your seat since my last post wondering whether I'm somebody's girlfriend or not, let me just put your mind at ease and tell you that I'm not. I am now, and for the foreseeable, and to be honest, probably also the unforeseeable, future--like I'm talking the forever future--as single as they come.
I'd like to follow that statement up with something like, and that's just fine, and while sometimes it totally is, it's also sometimes totally not. But I've been over this subject a million and two times and feel like it's pretty much done. Like, do people who read my blog even care about that? Is my dating life even something people are interested in? (That's a rhetorical question, but if you are, you should totally follow me on Snapchat where almost all I do is talk about boys. Warning, though: More often than not, I'm in my undies, so if you're offended by near nudity or extremely long stories that may veer toward the taboo, my Snapchat is not for you.)
What I do want to talk about, which coincidentally I'm texting about right now with a boy I just went on a date with on Tuesday night, is my birthday and how I thought it was going to be a sad disaster of a day but was totally wrong. As you know, Griffin is in Orlando; as you don't know, Keifer is out of town with his girlfriend; and my sister is out of town, too, and those three are pretty much my go-to's. Because my go-to's are gone, in the days leading up to my birthday, I was completely distraught, and not just in my typical I'm-getting-older type of way but in the way of I have nobody and have to spend my birthday all alone.
Only I didn't and I do.
I mean, I'm alone right now, like in a physical way, but despite my negative-Nelly expectations and pessimistic take on the fiasco that is my life, I have to admit I'm not really alone at all.
I went into today preparing for the worst, and seriously--it was the opposite of that. As much as I feel like I have nobody, I have people who love me--good, amazing, caring people--and who I love back, people who did everything they could to make me feel happy--I'm talking cooking! And cake! Cake!--because they knew how down I felt about being home alone, and on top of that, once I was home, I wasn't even alone. I mean, again, physically, sure, but people haven't left me alone all afternoon and night, and I actually feel how much they care, and I'm realizing that contrary to the staunch belief I've held onto for so long, I'm not alone just because nobody is here.
Is it the not kind of alone I was used to after being married for over fifteen years? Of course not, but that had a different kind of aloneness in itself, a kind of aloneness that if you were to ask me if it was better or worse, my answer would depend on the day. Is it the not kind of alone I ever imagined I'd have the day I turned 44? No husband or significant other and no kids, just an empty house? Of course not to that, too, but what I'm learning in my ever-increasing age is that sometimes we have to learn to let go of what we thought would be in order to be happy with what actually is,
which is
me.
I'd like to follow that statement up with something like, and that's just fine, and while sometimes it totally is, it's also sometimes totally not. But I've been over this subject a million and two times and feel like it's pretty much done. Like, do people who read my blog even care about that? Is my dating life even something people are interested in? (That's a rhetorical question, but if you are, you should totally follow me on Snapchat where almost all I do is talk about boys. Warning, though: More often than not, I'm in my undies, so if you're offended by near nudity or extremely long stories that may veer toward the taboo, my Snapchat is not for you.)
What I do want to talk about, which coincidentally I'm texting about right now with a boy I just went on a date with on Tuesday night, is my birthday and how I thought it was going to be a sad disaster of a day but was totally wrong. As you know, Griffin is in Orlando; as you don't know, Keifer is out of town with his girlfriend; and my sister is out of town, too, and those three are pretty much my go-to's. Because my go-to's are gone, in the days leading up to my birthday, I was completely distraught, and not just in my typical I'm-getting-older type of way but in the way of I have nobody and have to spend my birthday all alone.
Only I didn't and I do.
I mean, I'm alone right now, like in a physical way, but despite my negative-Nelly expectations and pessimistic take on the fiasco that is my life, I have to admit I'm not really alone at all.
I went into today preparing for the worst, and seriously--it was the opposite of that. As much as I feel like I have nobody, I have people who love me--good, amazing, caring people--and who I love back, people who did everything they could to make me feel happy--I'm talking cooking! And cake! Cake!--because they knew how down I felt about being home alone, and on top of that, once I was home, I wasn't even alone. I mean, again, physically, sure, but people haven't left me alone all afternoon and night, and I actually feel how much they care, and I'm realizing that contrary to the staunch belief I've held onto for so long, I'm not alone just because nobody is here.
Is it the not kind of alone I was used to after being married for over fifteen years? Of course not, but that had a different kind of aloneness in itself, a kind of aloneness that if you were to ask me if it was better or worse, my answer would depend on the day. Is it the not kind of alone I ever imagined I'd have the day I turned 44? No husband or significant other and no kids, just an empty house? Of course not to that, too, but what I'm learning in my ever-increasing age is that sometimes we have to learn to let go of what we thought would be in order to be happy with what actually is,
which is
