About two years ago, one of my close friends got married. I wrote a post about it while she slow danced to an old country song with her father. I was alone that night, without a plus one or anyone to dance with, and it kind of made me think (as it seems to make all single girls think) about whether or not I’d ever find myself in her shoes and whether or not I even wanted to.
My best friend is getting married this weekend. She and her fiancé met about six years ago and have been inseparable ever since. They support each other, love each other, and have had their kids’ names picked out since at least senior year of college. I’m so excited to see these two finally tie the knot. But inevitably it’s got me thinking again, too.
I’ve changed so much over the last two years so it’s almost funny to me that my opinions haven’t. They’ve maybe shifted a little, but are just as uncertain.
I still don’t know how I feel about marriage. I’m trying to date more, but I don’t know that I’d say marriage is my end game so much as actually falling in love with someone. It’s almost like I can’t conceive of whether or not I’d want to be married without knowing what it feels like to love someone enough to even consider it. Some people grow up knowing that they want to be a part of the institution and they date to find a person that fits. I guess maybe I’m swapping them around.
The one thing I do know is that I don’t want to be alone. I’d like to have a partner in my life, but if I don’t I’m also ok with that. I’ve grown up knowing some very strong, very independent single women and I’m not afraid of being on my own. I know I’ll always have friends that I can count on because I’ll make sure of it. But something I didn’t know two years ago, is that when I said I didn’t want to be alone I didn’t just mean romantically. I know now that I want a family, whether it’s one built with a romantic partner or children that I raise independently.
For the longest time I flat out said that I did not want children. I’m not very patient with them, have little experience, and since infants freak me out I think it’s fair to say that my motherly instincts are a bit broken. And while I’m still not interested in giving birth to my own genetic copy, I’ve opened my eyes and heart to the idea of fostering and adoption. I still have a lot to learn about the whole process and I’m not anywhere near ready for that kind of responsibility at twenty-five, but I definitely see it as an option now. Especially if I don’t wind up meeting a partner, I think I’d enjoy being a parent to someone who really needed a safe and loving home. Single parenthood isn’t something a lot of people would volunteer for, but I’m not afraid of it.
So that’s where I’m at these days. Two years later and I’m still single, but also still growing into my goals and opinions about life.