"You can buy what you want. You don't have anyone to answer to." She said. I was telling her I needed a pair of black booties because the cute brown shoes she commented on were the only pair of cute shoes I owned. You don't need black. Brown goes with everything. She said. I disagreed with her. And her response is the topic of my now blog.
"You can buy what you want. You don't have anyone to answer to."
I paused to let this sink in. And it sunk. Into the space where you need an oxygen tank to swim. It's somewhere in the abyss of darkness where odd things live because no human has ever entered its habitat. But I'm venturing there.
I have no one to answer to.
The enormity of this off-the-cuff comment is still being processed in my brain. And this blank page on my blog is the lucky winner for part of the processing. You're welcome.
I often thought when I was married that perhaps I wasn't cut out for marriage. I really like my own space. I like my own money. I don't like picking up after someone else ... that is an adult. It's not my favorite to go to bed with a spotless house and wake up to find it destroyed the next morning by a man who is hurrying to get to work. I don't like having to share my closet space. Or my drawer space. Or my cabinet space. Or shelves in the shower. (I put my boys' shower things away when they're not with me. But this is more because I tire of hurting every time I see something of theirs.)I'm a pretty selfish person.
These things are probably not unique to me, though. I would suspect that a majority of people feel this way.
What makes me suspect that I'm cut out to be single is that I thrive more when I'm alone. I have not mastered the art of caring for someone while simultaneously taking care of myself. I have to work on boundaries incessantly. I lose myself when I have a partner.
I don't love this about myself. I know it's happening, but I haven't yet fully grasped the skills of prevention.
My parents suggested meeting one of my dates yesterday. "Um....no. It is far too soon and I'm tired of introducing you to random men." They have met four since my divorce. Some on accident. But still. Four relationships that I lost myself in. Temporarily. Four failures.
I'm not far enough along in the divorce process.
I'm too good for him.
I want more than he does.
We just aren't a good fit.
All of which were probably halfway true. But my guess is that the girl they were initially attracted to disappeared at some point and was replaced with a robot that was obeying orders from someone else not even remotely related to me. And none of them knew me well enough to know this, or had the tolerance to dig.
I came home last night to a house that was just as I had left it. It was tidy and smelled good. My bed was made. My things put away. Everything was in its place. I got myself a glass of water and just sat in the quiet and enjoyed my space. I found my nighttime products exactly where I had put them. My book was still in the same place next to my bed. My Plexus products hadn't moved. My bed was just as neat. I adjusted the thermostat to whatever I wanted and went to bed with my very loud box fan next to my head after reading for an hour in the quiet.
And I have never slept so good.
I woke up at 6 a.m. enthusiastic about my day to myself. I made my Plexus, took my Accelerator and Vitalbiome, made a glass of water, put the tea kettle on for my French Pressed coffee, opened the blinds, put the Pandora channel on Hillsong United, and sat down to write. Still in my pjs. With no one demanding anything from me.
I have no one to answer to. So today I'm carrying my unattached self to the mall to buy some black booties.
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