#singlehood chronicles

If you've been following me for awhile, you’ve seen blogs titled "the singlehood chronicles."

A few weeks ago,* I created a space to comment on the series. I tweet about a new chronicle every Friday, and I post some of the content to Instagram. 

Toni Morrison told us that, sometimes, we have to write what we want to see. It’s easy to find content about marriage, single motherhood, divorce, recovering from abuse, or how to stay pissed at men forever. Most single women seemed focused on changing their status ASAP - fine for them, but wasn’t working for me. And don’t get me started on the creepy “femininity school” mess that’s been floating around the internet for the last 10-20 years. 

I wanted to hear from someone moving into their late 30s - early 40s without a serious relationship, no children, and just... living life as it happened, however it happened. I realized I’d been doing it all along.  

Feel free to follow along, or tell a friend. 

...

A few months ago, I tried to "get back out there." Made a connection, tried to revive some older ones... but none of it came to anything. Just words with no action, unanswered texts, and several blocks.

Eventually I realized that I'm still hurt, which has resulted in a lack of desire to play the game unless it’s in response to genuine, clearly expressed intent. Not much of that going around these days.      

I've wiped all my queues clean, and hidden my profiles. 

Love won't find me in my living room (without my help), but I’m comfortable with knowing that I’m simply not ready. When that changes, so will I. 

I am a Black woman over 40, born and raised in a major U.S. city. 

I have never married, never been engaged, and have no children. My last "official" relationship ended some time in 2008-2009, and I have not been in one since. 

I grew up in a two parent, middle class household, and most of my extended family fell into some subset of the middle class. Everyone worked, but “struggle” was rare. My parents earned the kind of pensions my generation will never see. I have an undergraduate degree.   

I did not grow up in an abusive household, and I've never had an abusive relationship. If I’ve been cheated on, they got away with it. I don't have many (personal) bones to pick with men, or a perceptible “attitude.”  

I don’t say any of those things to elevate or separate myself from my sistas / sibs who’ve experienced them, or who show up in the world in a different way. 

I mention it because I’ve rarely seen my story told: a grown woman without the “usual” issues that still ain’t been chose. Not yet, anyway. 

So, as with most things in my life, I write about it. Mostly for myself - as memory, reflection, therapy outside of therapy. 

I don’t know who reads this, or who might in the future, but I’m sharing in the spirit of Toni Morrison saying that she wrote the books she needed to read. 

I hope someone like me, who winds up like me, or has a friend like me will find something here to hold on to (or share) on the rough days. 

But just in case you don’t feel like reading right now: 

Sometimes, it honestly isn’t you, or anything you’re doing or not doing, being or not being. 

Sometimes, it’s just the way life goes until it doesn’t. 

And if you’re hoping for a different tomorrow, all you can do is keep living it until it changes. 

.:.

The Singlehood Chronicles

Series 1 - Blogspot - 2008-2012 (scroll down to read in order) 

Series 2 - Raha Reiki - 2015-2017 (scroll down to start with #11) 

Series 3 - HoneyedFire 2018 - ? (scroll down to start with #31)

Prayers / Meditations / Affirmations

An Open Love Letter 

Gifts of the Goddess (poetry)

Infinite Lov(e)ing

Mantra 2004

On: The Persistent Desire for Love

(Re)Opening to Receive 

Ritual (re: banishing negative thoughts / self talk)

Shattering Illusions

I’ve said it before, but... I never, ever thought I would be single this long. Live alone this long. Even with immense gratitude for all my blessings, it's still a source of heartache.

The death and deferral of dreams causes pain. It's human to mourn what we've lost, what we never had, what we wish could be. 

It’s also true that if the grief drags us under for too long, we’re lost. Avoiding stagnation and (living or literal) death means pushing through our challenges and allowing new visions to take hold.  

It wasn’t easy gaining and maintaining happiness, peace, and pleasure as situation after situation went nowhere. But what frightened me more was becoming bitter, miserable, and lashing out in feral anger. 

On the hard days, I resonate with the sacred heart / “wounded healer” archetype: the agony of an intimate, canonized, open wound alchemized into peace and compassion. 

Then there’s the Love Goddess paradox: forever desired yet forever alone, while the rest of the pantheon enjoys various aspects of Divine Union. It hurts to feel like no one has "chosen" me to walk through life with them (actual Goddesses are probably too busy for self-pity...), but I still rejoice at the sight of sincerely loving, mutually beneficial partnerships. I love Love. 

Most of the time, I'm able to acknowledge how much strength, courage, and selfhood it's taken to survive and thrive, and I’m proud of myself for remaining loving, sweet, and present in my encounters. In the absence of a full partnership, I manifested the means to make and keep myself as happy as possible.

I've managed to avoid overindulging my vices, and use healthy coping strategies more often than not. I’ve learned to take exquisite care of myself, and that’s served me well. 

On the other hand, my heart-wound helps me understand why other choices get made. I have a good idea why some women go for the money, surgery, highs, and quick fixes; curse and hex liberally; maintain an barbed wire auric fence. There are times when those methods seem far easier than the path I wound up on. 

Truth is, we’re all tending to our soft, vulnerable hearts the best ways we know how. Self included.

.:.

{the companion to...}

sometimes i hate being asked that question early on, 'cause i feel like most men are already trying to find out what's "wrong" with me. 

i should've had a kid already... at least one marriage, right?  

the underlying vibe always seems to be "why ain't you been chose?" 

i'll tell you.

because most of you keep trying to figure out what’s wrong with me instead of what’s right about me. 

and when you do allow yourself to like me, you keep looking for a thing. 

when you don’t find it - or, whatever flaws you see aren’t glaring enough to give you an excuse to leave outright - you start looking at yourself and wondering why i like you. what i might want from you. 

you get so tangled in your own heads, you miss me.  even when i’m sitting right here. even when i haven’t moved. 

weird thing is, you don’t talk much to me about it until you absolutely have to. if you have to. but by then? you don’t see me anymore. all you can see is your insecurities. 

so you find an excuse to leave. 

we probably weren’t together in the first place. so it’s not like i’m heartbroken. 

but, far as i can tell, that’s why i’m single. 

you’re the ones that won’t choose. 

not me. 

and when i have chosen? it doesn’t stop this cycle from happening. 

so that’s why.

happy? 

i.

very early in 2009, i had a miscarriage. in early june, I had another, far more prolonged and painful one.

the first time, the relationship was far more established. although the timing of the pregnancy wasn’t great, we were generally happy and ready to go through with it. but the loss happened, and after several years of dipping in and out of each other’s lives, we finally released each other for good. 

this time, the relationship is more amorphous, despite some history. nine months ago, we reconnected after 20 years of near silence and settled into a sweetness I’ve prayed for most of the last decade.    

it is beautiful, and complicated. the love is there, and we could easily raise a fantastic kid together, but the timing was awful.  

whatever we were going to become, I never wanted us to be - let alone begin as - another obligation, another duty, another source of stress. 

we deserve(d) to bloom naturally. 

ii.  

I’m no astrologer, but I've been hearing a lot about retrogrades and eclipses as harbingers of reflection, change, healing, and transformation. 

this exact moment feels like a rough, ugly little patch, and I’m trying to nurture some sense of resilience, because the rough, ugly patches - though rare - have been deeply triggering.  

shouldn’t it be close to perfect after all this time, all this prayer? why is there still this basic ass work to do? am I finally with someone that can see us through the hard shit, or is he too stuck to move forward, too - just in a more palatable way? did I choose wrong again?

it sucks to need more reassurance than you know you’re going to get in a given moment. I struggle with articulating my needs when I see my partner’s going through something. I struggle when answers don’t come when I want them to, or when I get ones I don’t want. I struggle when I feel like I’m being shut out.

I hope this is the beginning of the end of me writing about being single.  

we'll see how far we get.   

.:.

when asked, “why / how are you single?” my first (internal) response is usually a sigh.

why?   

because i keep encountering men who can’t imagine being loved - let alone loved well. so they convince themselves i don’t want them, don’t need them, and they disappear. 

my intelligence and self assurance are other issues. i weaponize neither, however: smart means challenging, a challenge means growth, and people don’t like growth they can’t micromanage.  

they’re attracted to it... they want me. they just never seem to want to keep me. 

and no matter how i try to flip it 

it hurts.

i keep thinking that one day, i’ll rise above it. one day, it won’t sting. 

one day i’ll find the salve or mantra that will allow me to genuinely not give a fuck. 

i’m still looking. 

.:.

Apparently I’m the “why is she single??” type. I’ve developed a radar around people’s wonderings once they know.

Well, there are a few reasons for that, but the most obvious one is life. This is the way things happened. 

I didn’t ask for it.  Acceptance has come over time.  It’s not my preference.  It’s also not a part of my life I can will to happen. The situation is what it is... until it’s not. 

Yesterday marked my 8th consecutive valentine’s day as a single woman. 

Not a lover-less woman. Or even a love-less one.  Just... a not-in-love woman. 

Some years have been difficult.  Some years I barely noticed.  Some years I treated myself. 

Valentine’s is also almost exactly a month before my birthday. This year is a milestone that, ironically, I won’t be able to schedule celebrations for.

So, once again, I’ll need to celebrate myself, by myself - at least on the exact day. 

I might be more at peace with that than I have been in some time.  

It’s still not my ideal, but I’m committed to living my life - however it’s manifesting on a particular day. Because that’s what’s gotten me through the last eight years.   

 .:.