My single for life project turned two this month and it got me thinking about just how far I have come (and how much further I have to go).
During the past couple of years, I haven't dedicated as much of my new free time to writing as I wish, nor have I solved for the matter of getting some when I need some (you know what I'm talking about). Still, I think my mental health is much improved (based solely on the number of times I haven't passed out on the couch still in my make-up, surrounded by wine bottles and empty bags of chips).
And I've done things I wouldn't have done (or enjoyed as much) had I still been looking for a husband. I got tattoos. Cut off all of my hair. Spent Halloween in 2011 running a marathon and this past Halloween handing out candy with the cutest little bumblebee ever.
I no longer cringe when someone asks me about my dating life or feel like a loser when they suggest I meet their cousin who has never dated anyone over the age of 20, still lives with his mom, and hasn't held the same job for more than six months, but he's single. Instead, I laugh.
Still, I feel like there is work to be done. For instance, I still avoid doing things I want to do if I can't find a friend to join me. Worse than that, I still rent my apartment.
For the record, I find nothing wrong with renting. I recently read an article that America's obsession with homeownership might be our downfall – pointing out the number of wealthy cities that also have high ratios of renters to homeowners. My problem is not with renting. My problem with renting is the reason I am still doing it.
Because late at night, when I should be sleeping but am instead freaking out about my future, I mentally add buying a house to my list and then quickly remove it when I ask, "But what if I meet someone? He could already own a house. Or maybe he won't want to live in my house."
I'm not proud of this line of thinking, friends. All my talk of single for life, I still haven't been able to exorcise this last bit of "But what if I meet someone?"
No, Mom, put down the phone. I haven't bought a house. I've just started the process. And by the time my single for life dream turns three, I will be a homeowner.
And possibly a dog owner.