I have friends that have families.
I have friends that have babies.
I have friends that have husbands.
I have friends that at times I don’t feel I have much in common with anymore.
Changes…hmm, they are hard to deal with.
I feel sometimes their lives are moving fast, too fast beyond mine.
I want to compare but you know who always loses out when you do that: YOU.
I want to catch up, but that is hard to do without a husband and babies of my own.
I feel left out. And yet, I also feel very comfortable and secure in where my life is right now.
Secure in this chapter of my singleness.
Secure in my freedom.
Secure in my choices.
Secure in my time.
Secure in my space.
Secure in my creativity.
Secure in my spontaneity.
Secure in my responsibilities.
Secure in my peace.
Secure in my hope.
Secure in my passions.
Secure in being secure that when the time is right the next chapter in my life will begin.
But right now, I ain’t in the season some of my friends are in.
And that season is a hard one for them at times.
I see them from a distance.
I see the joy, but also the sacrifice, the smiles, but also the fatigue.
The putting others first before yourself, the tension of capacity versus assignment.
The wearied eyes, and sleepless nights, the nursing, the poo-poo diapers, the home cooked meals, the Mt. Kilimanjaro peaks of laundry piles, the coupon-clipping, the hot dog boiling, the string-cheese buying, the Cheerio snack cups, the family vans, the sippy cups, children’s movies, the intentional discipling of little hearts, the purposeful lovemaking, the availability for the searching and longing arms and hands and bodies of husbands that need you, the search for quiet space to have personal God-moments, sweet devotionals, five minute solitude in a world of busyness and needs and wants and pulls all from you toward others that require your presence and action in their lives.
I realize their season is a calling and it is timely and God knows when one is ready for such a commitment, such a sacrifice, such a role of a lifetime.
I think about the fact that I can’t share in their season of life with a similar season of life in my own world right now. A little twinge of envy rises up on occasion. It feels limiting to to not have a shared experience with them.
But my heart warms when I think of the single sisters I’m blessed to journey with now in this season. A season that can be challenging to navigate but also beautiful to explore. I see the sparkle in our eyes as we sway our hips at concerts and the glitter of our Black Girl Magic dust shines brightly. I see our successes, but also the questions, the freedoms, but also the aches. The wondering if you’ve really got it all together that good, are you the woman you want to be in this decade, this moment, the exasperation of thinking where are the qualified men really at while you keep on deflecting the busters and the not-so-readys. I see our desire to use wisdom and make the best financial decisions as we fly solo, the lip gloss and eye shadow girl nights out, Nine West heels, and way fly pencil skirts, day trips and weekend getaways, cooking our meals, flexing our yoga poses, building our brands, running our miles, getting our dry cleaning, making our art, singing our songs, sewing our dresses, protecting our bodies, owning our time, setting our goals to fully engage in the whoness of us. Single don’t mean lonely. It just means solo.
Changes can be good, even though they are hard.
Solo can be good, even if it feels scary.
That’s what makes the adventure really come alive.
Written by Melody L. Copenny
© April 28, 2011, September 10, 2016