I’m not going to sugarcoat it like everyone else seems to do. I’m not going to tell you that you should celebrate the life that lays ahead of you. The freedom that is granted to you, and the infinite opportunities at your fingertips. Nope, I won’t go there because I know, firsthand, how difficult it is to be twenty-eight and single. I know how lonely it can be to wake up without a boyfriend’s “Good morning, beautiful” text or your Starbucks drink in a to-go cup delivered with love by your doting husband or the cheery calls of an adorable toddler from the room across the hall.
I know that it’s scary to not know what life has in store for you. And even though many will stress how exciting the unknown is, I know it’s more terrifying than anything. I know that you spend more time worrying what you don’t have than fantasizing about what you do. For example, you focus more on why you don’t have a boyfriend, fiance, or husband rather than being excited that you still have the chance to meet the Love of your Life around any corner, or dark bar. Or grocery store trip, because for some reason I’ve been told that it’s the best place to meet someone. (Yeah, I’m not really sold on that, especially since most people at my grocery stores are elderly or obviously in relationships and/or with children.)
I know that when you’re single, at any point in your twenties, you tend to ask, “What is wrong with me? Why am I still single? Why am I always single?” Well, to be honest, I have absolutely no idea why you are single. Consider this one of the great mysteries of the world. But what I do know is that you deserve to be loved and deserve to love someone amazing.
And one day, I promise you, this will come true. One day you will look back on the time when you were twenty-eight and single and wonder why you ever worried in the first place. I really do believe this, so I hope you will to. You are too beautiful, too special to be anything less than ridiculously happy. Maybe twenty-eight isn’t the year you find the love you deserve, but who’s to say twenty-nine won’t be?
Just remember you are worthy of all the beauty, love, and happiness in this world.
The world needs a love story … another one, I guess … to give us something to believe in. A(nother) love story to make us believe 1) in love; 2) that love exists; 3) that love can exist for each one of us.
This is the thought that rummaged through my mind as I walked down Diversey on Friday morning to catch my bus. Where it came from…not sure? Now I may have been hungover, or perhaps still a little drunk, from Thursday night’s St. Patrick’s Day fun, but who knows. But I do remember this thought, and in fact, I even wrote these words down after I boarded the bus to the office.
The ‘studies’ say that men think about SEX every 7 seconds, but to make them look less animalistic we’ll leave it as sex (or similar topics) cross their minds on average hundreds of times per day. But there’s no man-hating or complaining here, and instead I’m just laying down the facts. And the fact is this: Women think about LOVE at least every 7 seconds. All Women: Single. Taken. Black. White. Young. Old. Straight. Gay. Bisexual. Hopeless Romantics. (and) Cynics. All women share one thing in common, whether or not they’ll always admit it: Every woman wants to love and be loved in return. Every woman desires to hear “You’re beautiful”, “You’re the one for me“, and “I love you.” Love ♥ Love ♥ Love ♥ This is our common bond.
In non-blog world (aka every day life), I am one of those women who doesn’t always admit that she wants to find love. In fact I do a very good job at playing the I don’t know if I even want a boyfriend and I’m too busy for a relationship cards- sometimes even convincing myself to believe these lies. But as my friend, Kristin, reminded me in an email this week, “Um, hate to tell you this but you are a girl so you will be a girl.”
So what does this girl really want? I want to finally Believe that Love Exists for Me.
Stef and I had a wonderful date in Andersonville yesterday, that concluded with us enjoying good food and conversation at Kopi Cafe. Per usual, our conversation covered many different topics; however, what stood out to me the most was our discussion on Self-Love & Relationships. I believe it’s best to use my mom’s infamous words here as they were spoked during my conversation with Stef and prove to be quite fitting for my next point…so here they are: “You cannot expect someone to love you until you love yourself.”
I love a good Love Story…which is probably an innate female thing. I watch The Notebook. I read The Time Traveler’s Wife. I listen to way too many country songs about God Blessing the Broken Road. And who can forget that my favorite bar activity is asking couples, “So how did you two meet?” and “How did you know that you were in love?”
So let me be a girl here and admit this, for the first time (at least sober): One day, I hope to tell my own love story and maybe even write it. Actually that latter part was my plan for a while…and in a way still is. It’s no secret that I held onto to someone (ck) for way too long, and with the weight lifted off my shoulders (finally!) I can think more clearly and say this: Believing in him gave me a love story to believe in. I wanted our potential love story to give others something to believe in too. But like many love story, ours never got past the first chapter, and I’m okay with that (now). Why? Because even if our love story isn’t continuing, my love story will. My Learning to Love Myself story continues. My Letting Love In story goes on. I may have no idea what the next page holds, but that’s the beautiful thing about love stories. You never know what’s going to happen next until you turn the page…until you wake-up the next morning and Live Your Life.