About Me – Page 23

Categories: About Me

Chronic Singleness, Shame, and Accepting What Is

Here’s my truth: I am turning 29 at the end of this year and I have yet to be in a serious, long-term relationship.

It’s painful to admit that. It’s shameful. It’s hard to stare that truth in the face and acknowledge my role in it.

I’ve always felt like there was something wrong with me, some reason behind why I don’t have the typical dating experiences that people around me have. I didn’t have a high school or college sweetheart; I didn’t date at all until I was out of college.

I started my first account with an online dating website when I was 23 because people had continued to tell me that I had to put myself out there if I ever wanted to be in a relationship. Which is factual because it wasn’t until I joined OK Cupid that I began to talk to guys and go on dates.

I am a naturally shy and quiet person. I’m not classically beautiful. I’m overweight. I’m not the girl that everyone’s eyes gravitate to when she walks into the room. I’m not trying to put myself down here, nor am I looking for compliments. It’s just that, for me, I was never the girl who was going to find a guy at a bar or a club or, hell, even a coffee shop or bookstore. I’m just not the type of girl who garners attention. And that’s okay because I don’t want attention. Ever. I am perfectly okay with being the girl who gets overlooked most of the time.

But it makes dating hard, which is why online dating was perfect for me. I am much better at conversation through screen than mouth. I can carefully curate my photos to ensure only my best ones are present. I can message with a boy for as long as I want until I’m ready to meet in person. First dates can feel less awkward and more natural.

But in the five years, I’ve been online dating, I’ve only had two successful (ish) relationships. Neither of which lasted longer than a few months.

It’s weird to be at the place I am today: 28 and chronically single. The girl with no relationships.

It’s hard to admit that fact when I’m talking to someone I met online and he asks me about my longest relationship. What does my chronically single status say about me?

It could say that I’m unlovable, but anyone who has ever met me knows that’s the furthest thing from the truth. It may take me a while to warm up to people, but when I love, I love hard and I love fiercely. This future boyfriend will be loved with abandon and it’s going to rock his world.

My chronically single status could say that I have high standards, and maybe I do, but why is that constantly looked at as a bad thing? So I should lower my standards for something as important as love? Nope – sorry, but it’s my life and I get to decide what my standards are. If they are too high, that just means that the man I am meant to love is going to be one amazing person.

Or maybe being chronically single means I’m uninteresting and unable to keep a guy’s attention. But then you probably haven’t seen the way my eyes light up when I talk about books, about writing, about my dog, about my family, about football, about politics, about religion, about feminism… about any number of topics that I can’t shut up about once I get going. Uninteresting is not a word I would ever use to describe myself.

Perhaps my reason for being chronically single is that this was just the path I was meant to take. Maybe it’s as simple as that. It doesn’t mean anything about me personally. Maybe I was only meant to have one or two serious, long-term relationships in my life and it just hasn’t happened for me yet, but it will in the future.

Because instead of wasting my time in relationships that may have been detrimental to my overall well-being, I spent it working on me. I’m an independent woman who really and truly has her shit together. I have never depended on a relationship to sustain me, but instead, have sustained myself in a myriad of ways. I have learned to appreciate my alone time, I have deepened my friendships, I have formed new hobbies.

Being single for so long means I have spent a lot of time with myself, and good god, do I like myself. I really, really like myself. I am a fucking awesome human being! It’s really rather eye-opening to say that and to know how deeply I believe it. It has taken a lot of hard work, a lot of growing up, a lot of internal discovery to get to this place. And I got here because I allowed myself the gift of singleness. I didn’t get here because some guy I dated deemed I was worthy.

I could choose to see my chronic singleness as a downfall to my character, as a negative to my life’s path. And I used to. But I won’t anymore. There is no shame in the way my path unfolded; it’s just the way my life was meant to happen.

We only get one life. I don’t want to spend mine regretting the things I haven’t done, but instead, celebrating the person I am and enjoying every single twist and turn I encounter during my time here.

Categories: About Me

The Benefits of Alone Time

Note: I wasn’t sure how to approach the massacre in Orlando this weekend. On the one hand, when things like this occur (all too frequently, sadly), I use the time to step away from social media and deal with my emotions privately. On the other hand, this shooting happened mere hours from where I live. Terrorism has never felt so personal, so terrifying. I’m shocked, I’m sad, and I’m tired. I want senseless tragedy to stop. I want to stop reading about innocent people being taken from their families way too soon. I feel helpless and I feel scared. My thoughts and prayers are with these families who lost their loved ones.

Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time alone. Not just for a night, but for an entire day or an entire weekend. I’ve done this intentionally. I’ve actively carved out this time to be by myself, not dependent on anyone else for entertainment.

And it’s been amazing.

It’s everything I never thought I wanted. I used to be afraid to be alone with myself for too long… just the thought of a day by myself would cause my stomach to knot. I feared loneliness and silence and solitude. I feared looking like a freak if I went to the mall or to a restaurant by myself. I feared turning into a hermit.

But gradually, I have learned to appreciate these solitary weekends where I intentionally make zero social plans, intent on spending time with myself. Time to write, to read, to nap, to watch Netflix, to organize my apartment, to lay out by the pool, to run errands. All of it alone.

There’s nothing more recharging than these solitary weekends. It’s soothing and necessary for my mental health.

The truth is, I think spending time alone is necessary, no matter if you are an extrovert or an introvert. Here’s why:

Alone time quiets our minds

When we clear out our distractions and let ourselves just be, we can quiet and calm our minds so that we have a chance to pause and reflect. When I’m alone, I don’t have to worry about anyone else but myself, which means I don’t have to be “on,” engaging in conversation and constantly processing information from my surroundings and other people. Our minds can be a noisy place when we’re always around people and interacting with the world. But when we allow for the quiet and peace, we’re able to reflect more freely and recharge more abundantly.

Alone time lets us explore our independence

Alone time doesn’t have to mean spending all day inside. It can also mean exploring somewhere new or experimenting with a new hobby by yourself. If you want to take that dance class, you can take it. If you want to go to that festival downtown, you can go. We don’t have to always be with people to try new things. This is something I’m still learning because for a long time, I did believe I could only do certain things if I had someone to go with me. But it’s been so empowering to do the things I want to do because I want to do them, not because I finally had a friend agree to go with me.

Alone time allows us to be totally selfish and carefree

I think this is what I enjoy most about my alone time: I get to be totally, 100% selfish with my time. I get to do exactly what I want to do and I don’t have to check in with anyone else. For the longest time, I’ve looked at my singleness as a negative, but I’m starting to see it as a positive: it means I have the freedom to do whatever I want, whenever I want. It means I can take a nap at 3pm, eat ice cream for dinner, or spend all day reading a romance novel. That’s magical.

Alone time helps with productivity

One of the things I love most about alone time is that it allows me to get stuff done that I can’t get done when I’m spending my days around people and on the go. I can organize my home, make progress on my goals, and tackle projects that I just can’t get around to when my schedule is busy. Alone time can be peaceful and relaxing, but it can also be productive and useful.

Alone time helps us discover ourselves

What do you like to do? What are your interests? If you’re so busy saying yes to everyone else and don’t have the space to be alone and figure out exactly what you like, you’re missing out on a critical component. When you allow yourself this space of alone time, then you get to have this conversation with yourself to discover what you like to do, irrespective of other people.

I used to look at my alone time as a negative, but it’s really not. It’s a positive force in my life and I want to eke out as much joy and pleasure from it as I can. I’m in this time of my life where I can make the choice to spend entire weekends alone, and that’s because I don’t have a partner or children. Instead of feeling down about that, I’m seeing what a gift this time of singleness is: a time to be alone, discover myself, and enjoy this season. This is a gift I can give myself.

Obviously, there needs to be a balance between alone time and social time. I love planning a weekend alone every few months, and I also like to set aside one weekend day a couple times a month to be alone. It’s so necessary for me, and I’m glad I can finally admit that my alone time is something I crave without feeling guilty about it.

How do you feel about alone time?

Categories: About Me

“What is meant for me is already mine.”

photo credit

I was in the middle of one of those mindless Instagram scrolls, procrastinating on work, when I came across the above photo, posted by Amy.

I stopped. I let out a breath. I read the words on the photo over and over again, wanting them to sink into my skin. My eyes dropped down to Amy’s caption and I sucked in a breath when I read the words, “What is meant for me is already mine.”

Whoa.

I’ve been thinking a lot about timelines lately. I’ve been thinking about how I’m not exactly where I thought I’d be at 28.

When I was younger, my only goals in life were to get married and have kids. (And also to be a vet, but I let that dream go happily after one college-level Human Anatomy & Physiology course that nearly crushed my spirit.) There’s a lot of talk nowadays about gender roles and sexism and misogyny… talk that I wholly agree with and embrace. But I still wanted that “girly dream” of a white wedding and lots of babies.

In my early to mid-twenties, I was adamant that I didn’t want kids and I didn’t want to be married. I rarely dated. I told myself it was because I was too busy with school and work, but the reality was that I was scared of dating. I didn’t think I had what it took to hold a guy’s attention. I didn’t think I was particularly charming or witty, and I definitely struggled to hold a conversation. It was just easier to stay single and focused on other things.

As for babies, well, I spent my early to mid-twenties working in a preschool and I wanted nothing to do with children when I left that world. I loved the kids at my preschool (well, most of them), but goodness, they were so much work. I’m someone who craves alone time and quiet and lazy weekends… I just didn’t think I had the personality to be a mother.

But here I am at 28, and this decade of my life is swiftly coming to a close. In 18 months, I’ll turn 30 and that scares me but excites me. It scares me because I don’t feel ready to turn 30. I don’t feel as if I have done enough in my life to warrant turning 30. I’m not married, nor have I ever been in a serious, long-term relationship. I’m not a published novelist nor in any sort of leadership role at my job. I still worry about money on a daily basis, and when I think about living alone, I wonder how I can afford it. I don’t feel as settled as I think I should be.

Key words there: “think I should be.” When we start living for the “should”‘s, then we stop living for ourselves. We’re living for others and their expectations, not ourselves and our own specific timelines.

Here’s what I know is true: I deeply desire marriage. I don’t necessarily want a white wedding, but I desire a companion in life, someone to partner with in this journey. I deeply desire children. I want to be a mother and I want to experience pregnancy. I know, deep in my bones, there are pieces missing from my life, pieces fulfilled by children. I don’t believe I would feel these desires as deeply as I do if it wasn’t meant to happen for me.

But it feels like maybe I missed my opportunity. I know I’m only 28, so I understand that this is a silly fear to have, but it’s a fear nonetheless. I’ve yet to meet someone that I’ve felt such a strong emotional and physical connection with that I can see us building a family and a life together. With each new date I go on, either the spark isn’t there initially and the conversation is stilted. Or maybe the spark is there, but we don’t fit each other in other important ways. It’s disheartening, either way.

What this quote gives me is the ability to release my fear and my guilt and my apprehension. I haven’t missed my opportunity because the actual real opportunity? The man I am supposed to be with for the rest of my life and build a family with? I haven’t met him yet. (Or, I have met him, but the timing hasn’t been right just yet.) Those other men, even if it felt like there was potential, were never meant for me. They were meant to take up a small sliver of my time, but there were never meant for anything more than that.

“What is meant for me will never miss me.” There is such freedom in that. I can let go of the expectations that I can control this part of my life. I cannot. All I can do is to be open to the possibilities and understand that this man I am going to marry? He’s already mine and I am his. I can’t wait to meet him.

Categories: About Me

The Positives of Being Highly Sensitive

In its most basic form, being highly sensitive means my nervous system processes sensory information differently than it does for other people. An environment that may feel normal for some people feels intense and overwhelming to me because of my sensitivity.

Learning that I am a highly sensitive person was a game-changer for me. It allowed me to understand this massive part of my personality – why I get stressed out about social situations, why loud environments feel so overwhelming to me, why I feel things so intensely all the time. It allowed me to begin accepting who I am and why I do the things I do.

Like anything in life, having sensory processing sensitivity has its upsides and downsides. For example, I get overwhelmed easily, especially if I’m in a chaotic environment. I need tons and tons of alone time, which can get in the way of my relationships. Instead of being excited about a night out with friends, my immediate reaction is to worry about all the ways I might be uncomfortable in the situation. I feel so much, sometimes to the point where I physically ache. I often have emotional hangovers from movies or books or TV shows that are sad or disturbing or dramatic. My mind is never quiet or still, it’s constantly going and going and going and going.

It can be difficult and it can be frustrating and it can be too much at times. But the more I learn about being a HSP, the more I find that having this trait has some incredible advantages. For example:

1. I am tuned into my emotions.

I have a complex inner life; meaning, I’m in my head a lot. I’m constantly processing how I’m feeling as I react to all of the sensory data being thrown my way. I think about my emotions in a deep and intense way. I am in tune to how I’m feeling at any given moment, which in turn helps me to understand myself and what I need. I understand when I’m feeling overstimulated and need a moment to myself. In short, I just understand myself and my needs because I am so tuned into my emotions.

2. I am empathetic and considerate of how other people are feeling.

I love talking to my friends about what they are going through and how I can help them. I can’t help but be sad if a friend is sad. I cry easily. My empathy is one of my favorite parts about me. I love that I care so deeply and honestly about how other people are doing. When I ask how you are, I genuinely want to know. I want to know the good and the bad, what is lighting you up and what is burning you out. I am sensitive to how the people around me are feeling. I want people to feel included, to feel accepted, to be lifted up. I know what it feels like to be left out and made fun of in insensitive ways, and I never, ever want someone to feel that way around me. I’m the therapist, the cheerleader, the confidant. And I love that about myself.

3. I am deeply moved by books, TV shows, and movies.

When I read a book or watch a movie that touches me, I can’t stop thinking about it. I remember how I felt after I read Two Kisses for Maddy and I had an emotional hangover for weeks and weeks. It happened again after I read The Martian (not a heavy topic, but I loved that book so, so, so much that I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I finished it. I still have yet to see the movie because I know I will have an intense emotional hangover.) Every time I watch Titanic, I’m a mess for a week or more. I just have this intense emotional connection to some books, TV shows, or movies when the topic touches me in a deep and meaningful way. I love that something as simple as a book or a movie can affect me so profoundly that it messes up my entire world. It’s a powerful feeling.

4. I am more aware of the subtleties in my environment.

I process sensory data very carefully, which means I am more aware of the subtleties around me. I notice if a room is too cold, a chair is too uncomfortable, music is too loud. But I also understand the subtleties of body language and nonverbal cues. My grandma would call this my “sixth sense” because I understand people really well. I can read people’s reactions, expressions, and body language to figure out how they are feeling – happy, scared, nervous, excited, emotional, angry. I think this also falls back on being empathetic. I can pick up on nonverbal cues and adjust myself to acknowledge those cues and respond to them in the right way.

5. I am conscientious, and I care deeply about the work I do.

No matter what I am doing, I strive to be the best I can be at that very moment. I was never the kid who was at the top of the class, nor have I been the employee that stands out from the pack, but I am always working towards that. I care about my work, I care about how I am perceived at work. I am diligent in what I do, making sure it is at a standard that I can be proud of.

6. I place great care in the decisions I make.

This could be seen as a negative aspect of being highly sensitive, but I choose to see it as a positive. When making decisions, I take my time. I don’t rush into anything, but instead allow myself the space to figure out exactly what I want. I think of the past and the result of certain decisions. I think of the future and how other decisions might affect my life. In the end, the decisions I make are well-thought-out and thorough.

(But, sure, I could learn how to be a bit more spontaneous in my life. Heh.)

Categories: About Me

Why Do You Read?

I read for the escape, to pause my own life for a moment and escape into an entirely new world. Maybe it’s a love story and dropping myself into a budding relationship. Maybe it’s a self-help book that allows me to see the bigger picture of the Universe. Maybe it’s a fast-paced thriller where I can spend some time trying to solve a case and less time trying to solve my own problems.

I read to be educated. Fiction and nonfiction alike allow me to see the world through a different lens. Americanah opened my eyes to the cultural differences between African-Americans and Africans who immigrate to the United States. MWF Seeking BFF made me realize that making friends as an adult is hard for nearly everyone, and it gave me practical steps to make friends. A Thousand Splendid Suns taught me what life is like for women in other countries where their voices are oppressed. The Willpower Instinct helped me understand my brain and how it reacts to willpower and self-control in a super easy-to-understand way.

I read to be moved, to be taken to a place outside of myself and my own little bubble. Two Kisses for Maddy had me sobbing as Matt Logelin told me in the most honest and raw way possible about the death of his wife. Firefly Lane gave me unexpected tears and hiccuping sobs when the book took an unexpected turn that nearly destroyed me. Me Before You broke me, taking me into a world full of pain and heartache and strife, but showing me how goodness and sweetness and heart can commingle with it.

I read to calm my anxiety. It’s easy to tell when I’m feeling anxious and restless because all I’m reading are romance novels. Whenever I’m feeling out of sorts, I can always depend on a sweet, light-hearted romance novel to lift my spirits.

I read for an experience, to be taken on a journey so far outside my realm of understanding. The Martian allowed me to explore life on Mars. To Kill a Mockingbird brought me to a small Southern town to learn about racism. The Night Circus took me to a secret, vivid world of magic and storytelling and fantasy. And, who can leave the Harry Potter series out of this? A series unlike anything I’ve ever read, an experience unlike I’ve ever known.

I read for enjoyment, because reading is, hands down, my absolute favorite hobby and my favorite way to waste time. I read to lose all sense of time and place, to dive so completely into a book that all other demands and needs disappear for a while.

I read because it connects me to a younger me, the girl who would go to the library every Saturday and check out 12 books (the limit for the children’s section) and read them all within a week. The girl who didn’t care if her parents grounded her from playing with friends or watching TV, but would throw an all-out hissy fit if they took away her books. I read for that girl who loved nothing more than getting lost in her stories, who loved these fictional worlds more than the real world.

I read because it’s a part of my identity. I am a reader, a bookworm, a bibliophile. I am the girl that people come to for book recommendations, and I can usually find something perfect for that person and their needs. I make the time for reading because it fulfills me and makes me happy. I read because I don’t understand people who don’t read. I read because I love it.

Why do you read?