On being "single"

Last night, as I was sitting on my couch crocheting, I had a thought. One of those sudden moments of clarity, when something comes to mind, you take a breath, and feel a settling peace. The thought I had was that I may never get married, I may never have kids, and if that is what happens, it will be okay. I can still be happy.
I've kept a journal since I was fourteen years old. As a teenager I wondered what life would be like at twenty-six. I wrote, "I'll probably be married and have kids by then." But at twenty-six, I was starting over, far from having either of those things; instead dealing with the loss of a serious relationship and also the loss of a best friend. If you had told me when I was eighteen years old that I would be one of the last of my high school friends to have a family, I would have laughed in your face. I was in love when I was eighteen, and I just didn't see how those things wouldn't come to me easy.
I woke up in the middle of the night last night, and I thought to myself, I HAVE to write about this. Even though it makes me feel vulnerable to write these things. The older I get, the more permission I give myself to be honest about loneliness. Sometimes we wake up at thirty-two, and our life is not what we hoped for, what we always thought we wanted. And some days are really sad; waking up alone, coming home to an empty house, cooking for one person. Some nights there are tears because we just want to be with the love of our life. And when we reach out to our friends, we beg you not to say, "Your time will come," or worse, "You have plenty of time to have a family." That just minimizes our pain. Because the truth is, these things aren't promised or owed to us. The truth is, we can't know that we'll find this. The truth is, there ISN'T plenty of time.
I got a tattoo when I was twenty-four years old. It was meant to remind me that no matter what happened, I didn't want to become bitter. At twenty-four I had already felt so much heartache that I knew I was in danger of becoming an angry woman. And I just didn't want to be angry about those things. It's so important to let go of fear and anger. I'm still learning, every day, how to let go.
And that's what I felt happened last night. Instead of being angry or afraid because things haven't worked out how I always thought they should, I realized, I am happy. Sure I have my moments, but deep down, I am happy with my life. I have a job I enjoy, I have hobbies I look forward to doing, I have plans to travel. I have nine awe-inspiring nieces and nephews, supportive parents and amazing siblings. My friends are solid, wise and loving. My cats are snuggly. Instead of sitting at home alone wishing I had a husband and a baby, I am actually living the life I've been given. And if I never get those things I think I want, that family, I really believe I can still be happy.
And I hope you can too.