Table For One, Please!
Summer Knapsack Essentials: two journals… because one is never enough, a non-fiction read, a book of daily devotionals. Bonus points for a green juice!
I spent the greater portion of the first 18 years of my life obsessed with love. Specifically, I daydreamed and ruminated over who loved me, or what my future love stories would be like. I wrote love songs and poetry laced with yearning trying to pinpoint how it’d feel to “be in love.”
I was so focused on being the apple of someone’s eye and how that would feel that I don’t think the idea of (consciously) loving myself really crossed my mind. I’d like to say that I have since determined when/why/how my obsession with (being) love(d) began, but I’ve yet to crack that case. Some potential causes have been narrowed down to:
reading John Green books in middle school
Disney princess movies
so few shows that cater to girls including happily single female characters
middle child syndrome
racing to grow up
a deep craving to feel known beyond the surface level
I realized that this summer will be the first in quite some time that I fully intend on being single. No boyfriend. No one I’m “talking” to. No interest in the whole Tinder/dating apps scene. Basically, my internet besties, we’ve got no prospects. And it’s (largely) by design.
Now and then, the aforementioned realization creeps up on me and I feel a momentary pang of panic, induced by thoughts like, “how will I ever get back into the game?” Or “Will I be alone forever?” Short answer: I have no idea. What I do believe, though, is that the universe conspires in our favor (shoutout to The Alchemist. That book— chef’s kiss.) I refuse to let my fears of not experiencing romantic love this summer blind me from all the love dangling right in front of my freaking face! No one knows what forever has in store. Instead of worrying about what the status of my future love life will be, I do a quick pulse check: “At present, I am single. Do I want to make certain efforts to change that? No. Then, can I accept being single? Yes. Beautiful.” I know that I’m not ready for another relationship right now. I also know that I’m probably feeling way too sensitive to partake in anything resembling hookup culture at the moment. So, I’m welcoming the discomfort and unfamiliarity of being my own go-to for a confidence boost and a hand to hold.
Another epiphany I’ve had since being single is that I appreciate the opportunity to strengthen my relationships with the ladies in my life, and to debunk the myth that male validation holds higher value than a compliment from one of my girl friends. Those women are TOP-NOTCH, so god knows why I ever thought of undervaluing their words of affirmation.
The risk of knowing love at all is being hurt. I’m scared of being hurt again, which is why I’m excited that I have this time to focus on myself. I’m not sure if (or when) I’ll feel 100% ready to re-enter that arena, but I know that through investing in my relationship with myself, as opposed to pursuing external sources of validation, I will find a love that lasts a lifetime.
The relationship that I have with myself will outlast any other relationship that I have or will one day have. I am writing—or rather, re-writing, depending how you look at it—my love story this summer (& from now on.) It involves honesty, radical self-love, vulnerability, and patience. Our love patterns are habits. My habit was to outsource anytime I felt unsure of myself. I recognize that even as I build my new habit, to really, honest-to-God love myself, I will at times be frustrated that the ghosts of habits’ past creep back up. When that happens, I vow to show myself compassion and not to resist. All I will do is allow the ghosts to surface, hear them out, and release them. They won’t be serving me anymore.
It’s baffling to me that leaping into the unknown is me embracing being a party for one. How strange is it that I’m more accustomed to being romantically involved with someone else than I am with residing in an intimate relationship with myself? I look forward to when it is my instinct not to worry about everyone else’s response to my presence. Right now, I’m intently focusing on my response to my own company.
Isn’t it funny? All that time spent pouring my heart into paper writing words addressed to someone else, when all I wanted—needed—was to write those love letters for myself.
There’s never a bad time to date yourself—single, married, in a relationship, in a situationship—let this be the summer when your summer love is yourself, too!