It all started when we were wee lasses, with our pink frocks and our tiny pig-tails.
It started when we were handed our first bedtime story book illustration of Cinderella, Snow White and Rapunzel.
It started the day my mother said that a dignified young lady is expected to maintain a soft but audible, decibel when speaking and keep her legs crossed with her fingers gently placed over her lap. Do not speak with your mouth full and comb your hair after a shower to undo the tangles.
Yet there were other lessons that I gleaned from women-folk in my tribe. I learnt that a woman can carry pain and joy at the same time, that we're really inclined to buy a car for its colour, and everytime we open our underwear drawer we subconsciously hear our mothers saying "Wear matching clean, underwear always in case you are rushed to the hospital from an accident". By the time I was 21, I could cook atleast one decent meal and be a good host. I could manage money when times were tough, and do laundry the right way. I could make my living and contribute to society. I was prepared to take on the world.
However, of all the lessons that I learnt in life's classroom, one important one was missed.
Here's the chapter us young lasses, girls and soon to become women were not taught - How to be Single? Or, as I like to call it The Art of being a Singleton.
You understand where I'm going with this chickadee. How could I know to be "one" when everything comes in pairs - socks, salt and pepper. Heck every egg in a cardboard crate has a pair. They never sells eggs by the odd numbers. The stockboy at the super-market would give me the "lady you trippin'" look if I ever asked for just one egg for my Saturday morning huevos rancheros (yes, I realize that I've used the word "egg" more times than an Eggland commercial). All our lives we are taught that two is a good number. We even have a set of boobs.
How am I supposed to learn to cope in a world where people exchange woeful glances my way when I sit in a restaurant with a table for one. Why is it cheaper to book last-minute vacation packages for two people instead of one. And why of why do I have to throw away both my thigh high panty-hose even though only one has a mile long rip in it. I don't even have the option of buying a replacement hose for just the right leg (okay that last argument is a stretch but you get my gist, right?)
Why is one a lonely number?
In my community, ideally, a young twenty something year old woman is to find her mate and carefully plan the expansion of her brood by the time she embraces thirty. According to some women in my tribe, having all your kids by the age of 29 affords you the option of being more energetic (than someone who is older) when motherhood takes over your life. Who came up with that? Aren't tired mothers just tired mothers, no matter what their age.
I won't lie but there are days when I've wondered what its like to have someone waiting for me at home with a hot-meal, there are weddings and children's birthday parties I've dreaded going to because I'm either going to be chaperoning the loud rambunctious four-year olds or be stuck in an odd place at the end of the dinner with the really low chair where you can't cross your legs because of the awkward table leg. A lady once told me that a woman's life is incomplete unless she has experienced motherhood; "Her life has no meaning until then", she said. I was in a particularly vulnerable stage in my life that her words stung my heart. The tears welled up and the voice in my head said "This woman thinks that I am worthless". We're so scared of being alone that we'll pursue and date the wrong men, wear labels or emulate the women who seem to have it all, and constantly immerse ourselves in toxic thoughts. It is exhausting y'all. That alone has made me age twenty years and given me three more laugh lines I did not need.
Based on all the worldly education outside my classroom, I had no hopes of scoring the eye of a genteel man, much less any man if I preferred climbing trees or running barefoot like a wild gazelle in no particular direction.I have one of two options - let society scare me into couple-dom or stay unfazed and do life as a singleton.
Poppet, if you're reading this and you have gone through the online-dating buzz, met boys that your parents thought would be a good match for you, mourned the loss of a relationship by having a relationship with Ben and Jerry, held a friend's baby and wondered about the day you'll be someone's mama and solitarily nursed yourself through a flu and prayed that chicken-soup would miraculously be dropped off at your door-step, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. You hear me. (Now, take a deep breath) We are not alone. Here's a big, big hug because I know you need it now.
I am not going to sail into a diatribe about women's lib and how we're better off alone because in all honesty, I do believe that God created us to feel a sense of community and belonging. It took three decades into my to existence to figure out something about the journey as a lone ranger - having the single-hood chapter in a woman's life is one of great promise and discoveries. The first step - Accept that you are alone in this season of your life and it's okay to be single. We are not society's lepers or the bane of our mother's existence. We are taking the road less travelled, that few have braved to journey upon. You my dear, are a trail-blazer. Now, repeat that and believe that.
I think you're ready to hear about The Art of Being a Singleton, so here's what I've learned -
Remember that you're not walking alone....and if it gets hard let me know. I promise you a listening ear and a slice of chocolate cake.
It started when we were handed our first bedtime story book illustration of Cinderella, Snow White and Rapunzel.
It started the day my mother said that a dignified young lady is expected to maintain a soft but audible, decibel when speaking and keep her legs crossed with her fingers gently placed over her lap. Do not speak with your mouth full and comb your hair after a shower to undo the tangles.
Yet there were other lessons that I gleaned from women-folk in my tribe. I learnt that a woman can carry pain and joy at the same time, that we're really inclined to buy a car for its colour, and everytime we open our underwear drawer we subconsciously hear our mothers saying "Wear matching clean, underwear always in case you are rushed to the hospital from an accident". By the time I was 21, I could cook atleast one decent meal and be a good host. I could manage money when times were tough, and do laundry the right way. I could make my living and contribute to society. I was prepared to take on the world.
However, of all the lessons that I learnt in life's classroom, one important one was missed.
Here's the chapter us young lasses, girls and soon to become women were not taught - How to be Single? Or, as I like to call it The Art of being a Singleton.
You understand where I'm going with this chickadee. How could I know to be "one" when everything comes in pairs - socks, salt and pepper. Heck every egg in a cardboard crate has a pair. They never sells eggs by the odd numbers. The stockboy at the super-market would give me the "lady you trippin'" look if I ever asked for just one egg for my Saturday morning huevos rancheros (yes, I realize that I've used the word "egg" more times than an Eggland commercial). All our lives we are taught that two is a good number. We even have a set of boobs.
How am I supposed to learn to cope in a world where people exchange woeful glances my way when I sit in a restaurant with a table for one. Why is it cheaper to book last-minute vacation packages for two people instead of one. And why of why do I have to throw away both my thigh high panty-hose even though only one has a mile long rip in it. I don't even have the option of buying a replacement hose for just the right leg (okay that last argument is a stretch but you get my gist, right?)
Why is one a lonely number?
In my community, ideally, a young twenty something year old woman is to find her mate and carefully plan the expansion of her brood by the time she embraces thirty. According to some women in my tribe, having all your kids by the age of 29 affords you the option of being more energetic (than someone who is older) when motherhood takes over your life. Who came up with that? Aren't tired mothers just tired mothers, no matter what their age.
I won't lie but there are days when I've wondered what its like to have someone waiting for me at home with a hot-meal, there are weddings and children's birthday parties I've dreaded going to because I'm either going to be chaperoning the loud rambunctious four-year olds or be stuck in an odd place at the end of the dinner with the really low chair where you can't cross your legs because of the awkward table leg. A lady once told me that a woman's life is incomplete unless she has experienced motherhood; "Her life has no meaning until then", she said. I was in a particularly vulnerable stage in my life that her words stung my heart. The tears welled up and the voice in my head said "This woman thinks that I am worthless". We're so scared of being alone that we'll pursue and date the wrong men, wear labels or emulate the women who seem to have it all, and constantly immerse ourselves in toxic thoughts. It is exhausting y'all. That alone has made me age twenty years and given me three more laugh lines I did not need.
Based on all the worldly education outside my classroom, I had no hopes of scoring the eye of a genteel man, much less any man if I preferred climbing trees or running barefoot like a wild gazelle in no particular direction.I have one of two options - let society scare me into couple-dom or stay unfazed and do life as a singleton.
Poppet, if you're reading this and you have gone through the online-dating buzz, met boys that your parents thought would be a good match for you, mourned the loss of a relationship by having a relationship with Ben and Jerry, held a friend's baby and wondered about the day you'll be someone's mama and solitarily nursed yourself through a flu and prayed that chicken-soup would miraculously be dropped off at your door-step, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. You hear me. (Now, take a deep breath) We are not alone. Here's a big, big hug because I know you need it now.
I am not going to sail into a diatribe about women's lib and how we're better off alone because in all honesty, I do believe that God created us to feel a sense of community and belonging. It took three decades into my to existence to figure out something about the journey as a lone ranger - having the single-hood chapter in a woman's life is one of great promise and discoveries. The first step - Accept that you are alone in this season of your life and it's okay to be single. We are not society's lepers or the bane of our mother's existence. We are taking the road less travelled, that few have braved to journey upon. You my dear, are a trail-blazer. Now, repeat that and believe that.
I think you're ready to hear about The Art of Being a Singleton, so here's what I've learned -
- Being single is a season. Sometimes long, sometimes short. It's a good season though ( and believe me it's coveted by married women too).
- As a singleton, I have been able to put more time and effort into my friendships. I have a small but rich tapestry of relationships that feed well into my soul. The kind of friend-"ships" that won't toss and turn when the going gets tough. We've seen each other through job-losses, death of a parent, transitions from one country into another, birth of a child and new beginnings. This is a time for us to sow into those people especially into the ones we want to keep around us for a long, long time.
- It has enabled me to build a trust in our Maker that comes from an increased dependency in His word and His provisions. I can tell you without a doubt that my prayer-life has increased exponentially. I may not have a beloved waiting for me at home, but I am the Lord's beloved. That's the truth for each one of us so don't listen to the lying words that try to tell you otherwise.
- I have gained a few more ounces of bravery and worry less about venturing into life alone. There is no fear.
- I may not be a child's mother today but that doesn't stop me from watching over those that are not my own. We need to feel a burden for the next generation and resolve to become a tribe of women that shapes the young ones in our community. There are many kiddos and teens that feel unloved and are dealing with the day-to-day crud. Wouldn't it be great to love on them in this season when we can give them our undivided attention.
- I have been cooking, hosting, baking, feeding and serving more. I am emotionally and physically challenged and stretched, I love it! When the focus is on people around me, there's less time to worry about being part of a couple. Its brought on more bear hugs, peals of laughter, gut-wrenching tears, slices of chocolate cake, honest conversations and dinner table fellowships. I am forced to feel, to connect, to open up.
- Spontaneity is a real word now. More plunging, less cautiousness.
Remember that you're not walking alone....and if it gets hard let me know. I promise you a listening ear and a slice of chocolate cake.
