Three Years of Singleness

In honor of today, I’d like to start my blog with an awkward post.

Laughing It Off: the break-up edition!

Now, this topic is awkward because I have no secrets and no privacy in my life.  Which has definitely been a choice because I tend to have a problem keeping secrets about myself.  I just really like to have all my business out in the open… like that counseling technique of over-sharing (scratch that) self-disclosure.  The problem with this, is that while I see it as an opportunity to learn more about someone and let them see the real me, a lot of people are just uncomfortable with it.  Oh well, reason #891 I should never be a licensed professional counselor.  Anyway, I digress.  I have no secrets or privacy so many of you will have heard about all my break-ups in detail, and many more of you will personally know the other participant in the particular break-up I’ll be addressing here.  So, I’m sorry if you know someone mentioned here today, I promise to be classy with my truth-telling; try not to take offense (I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t… I’m pretty sure he doesn’t actually care).  J

So here it is: ladies and gentlemen (like any guy will ever ready this!), I have officially been single for exactly three years!  THREE YEARS! 

Just for some embarrassing background information, I still dream about my last boyfriend on a semi-regular basis, like once a month at least.  Not even exciting dreams, just normal every day, “Oh, I’m in a relationship and some random dream stuff is happening.”  I usually find this quite annoying and, every once in a while, it makes me super nostalgic.  I really think it’s just part of what happens when someone has been such an integral part of your life for over four years.  

I also recently started using the “Time Hop” app, which shows me my Facebook status updates, Tweets, and uploaded pictures from the current day of the year 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, even 7 years ago.  This is great on days like Thursday, when the status update it showed me from one year about was about Bigmama beating cancer (I mean, HECK YEAH!).  On days like September 9 (my ex-boyfriend’s birthday) when ALL of my social media updates involve him (and how special and great and fantastic and perfect he is in my life…), the app can leave me feeling completely and totally alone (scratch that) a little wishful for times gone by.  So, I have been mentally preparing for the last half of this month, knowing that our break-up happened on September 20, and expecting some really depressing statuses to come across my app in the next couple of weeks.  I was expecting to feel kind of down seeing my feelings so freshly splattered across my phone.  I mean, I do write very eloquently when I choose to, so I have been dreading the amazingly emo memories Time Hop was sure to bring my way… and the subsequent renewal of all those emotions from three years ago.

However, I woke up this morning and I felt strangely celebratory of this day.

I woke up alone, but happy.  I woke up early on a Saturday (yuck), but joyful.  I woke up inspired to finally start this blog I’ve been thinking about for months. 

I. FEEL. GREAT.

And I don’t know about you, but I’m shocked and really proud of myself.  J  There was a time (exactly three years ago) that I felt like my world was falling apart.  I cried so often for so long… I physically hurt.  If you’ve never been through it, I can’t explain the exact pain; but I can tell you that I was mourning.  That may sound silly to some of you, but it’s not a joke.  I was mourning a man that had been in my life since elementary school (remember, very small town) when I was Dorothy and he was the Cowardly Lion in our school musical.  I was mourning a relationship in which I had literally given all of myself (we’ll get into the topic of premarital sex some other day… For now, let me just say: DON’T DO IT!).  I was mourning the thing that gave me purpose and meaning in life.  I was mourning my identity.  I was mourning the future I had planned in my head.  I was mourning the parts of myself and of my ex-boyfriend that I knew we’d never get back.  For some (thankfully, pretty short) amount of time, I really didn’t know that I would ever be okay again.  I wanted to lay down and stop being alive for a while (no, I wasn’t suicidal).  I just wanted the world to stop spinning so I could catch up.  But that’s not reality.

Here was the reality: he wasn’t that man had fallen in love with anymore.  But the best news, the reason I’m okay, is that I’m not the same woman anymore.  So here’s a little advice from someone who should be an expert on having way too many “serious”, monogamous relationships (I had four between the ages of 15 and 22, the shortest one lasting 10 months); on falling in love with too many people; on planning a future (even if it was just in my head) with every guy that paid attention to me:

When it ends, laugh it off.

I don’t mean go insane and laugh when you want to curl in a ball a die.  I mean find something, ANYTHING, to be joyful about.  Surround yourself with people who love you enough to be completely honest with you (trust me, this is the measure of a true friend; usually only family loves you enough to do that).  Hang out with people who make you feel worthwhile.  Don’t wallow in self-pity or negativity.  And then, spend time with God.  Allow Him to love on you while you hurt.  Try to find His voice in your sorrow.  And seek out the reason He’s allowing you to walk in this valley.  Here’s what it was for me: I had placed my relationship with this guy on a pedestal above my relationship with God; I was seeking joy in an earthly man.  I’ve had to learn to fully trust God and rely on Him for true joy.

I think that’s all I’ll say on this topic for now.  Here’s to the first of many opportunities I’ve had to “laugh it off” that I hope to share with you all in the months (maybe years?) to come through this blog.  Stay tuned!