Reality Check

Even though I may not have been writing a lot lately, I still have been reading a lot. And yesterday Kris wrote about not being happy as a single gal. About wanting to be a part of a couple. I agree with her, wholeheartedly. It’s just… well, to be honest, I just don’t see it happening in my life. And I have pretty much resigned myself to that fact.

No, I am not a lesbian, nor am I one of those “man-haters.” I am not bitter and resentful after a slew of bad relationships, and I don’t think I am that ugly. I just never found Mr. Right, and honestly don’t think I ever will. Now, all my cyber gal-pals reading this are probably ready to jump to my side and tell me how “it could still happen,” but time for a reality check. Most of you are cringing because you are just nearing (or just hit) thirty. I, on the other hand, am pushing forty. And I am finally starting to accept that fact. I’m old. Well, ok, maybe not “ancient” old, but I’m definitely not the girl I used to be. Which is both good and bad. I am a single mom with an almost eleven year old. I have a full time job. I own my own home. I care for a (stupid) diabetic cat. This is my life. And I have become comfortable with it.

I mentioned before that there was a “Girl’s Nite Out” this Friday. Well, guess what? I’m not going. Why? Because I don’t feel like it. I know it is only Tuesday, but I don’t think these feelings will change between now and then. Honestly. Because the more I think about it, the stupider it seems. What business does someone like me have going to a bar and “hanging out” anyway? It just seems pretty pathetic to dress up (well, ok, not really dress up, but dress nice) and waste money in a place where most everyone will be drunk and having fun, but will also be looking at you and wondering why the hell an old lady is out. Plus, I don’t have an urge to drink. The thought of getting buzzed and not being in control doesn’t sit well with me lately. I like being in control of my own life. It was so out of control for so long that I’m not too quick to hand over the reins to Mr. Vodka anymore. Once in a while, yes, but not this weekend.

Also, there is a wild chance that Mr. Cop may be there. He’d probably wind up being the only guy who would even look my way. And the last thing I need is to deal with a ginormous asshole when I am supposedly having fun.

Know the song “Glory Days” by Bruce Springsteen? It makes me want to cry. Because I do miss my glory days. I miss being young and having fun and hanging out at bars and getting hit on by good-looking guys. I miss not having hangovers and not having bills and looking good in any outfit I tried on. I miss wearing bikinis and not worrying about exercising and having plans on not only Friday and Saturday nights, but on the rest of the days too. And looking forward to going out.

I never thought that I’d wind up where I am now. I always pictured myself married, with a fulfilling job, and a big house… having little get-togethers with other couples and their kids on the weekends. Boy, did I screw that up! But that’s ok, because I love my daughter and my condo and my cats and even though I hate my job, at least I have one. Money may be tight, but I always manage and we live well.

I don’t want to be one of those pathetic women who lives in the past and tries to be who she was twenty years ago. Because I know I’m definitely not the same person. Physically, mentally or otherwise. Oh, sure, I could tell you stories, but that’s about it. I can smile at the memories and look at old journals and pictures and wonder if I ever really knew how good I had it back then… “Youth is wasted on the young.” Who said that? Whoever it was, they were right.

Anyway, I think the bottom line is that you can’t go back in time. I can’t be the party girl I used to be. I’m not the hot chick I was when I was in my twenties. I’m a good person with a good heart and a good life – boring, maybe, but realistic.

It’s just time to start accepting it.