Okay, so I’ve been awol on the blog for just over a week. Why? My last two blog posts flunked. Like, no one read them. I’m sure my mum did and probably my close friends etc. But no new people, no new likes or followers came from them. Surprisingly, I felt really deflated. I didn’t realise just how much this little blog meant to me. It came at a time when I was feeling particularly low. I think it’s the run up to Christmas and the impending New Year. I always feel a little crappy at this time of year. So, hold on to your hats cause this post is about to get deep…
Christmas is a tough time of year. My parents separated 10 years ago and Christmas has never really felt the same for me. Both my parents are now happily in new relationships and my brother is married with two beautiful children. They have new extended families and I still only have them. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and I know I’m incredibly lucky to have them. I know so many people who don’t have their parents around or don’t speak to their siblings. But each Christmas is just another year where I remember that I haven’t created my own family yet.
I know I wrote a blog post a few weeks ago about why it’s better to be single at Christmas and I still stand by those points, even if some of them were clearly reaching… But seriously, I’ve been single FOREVER. There are only so many times you can reassure yourself that not having to buy a Christmas present for a significant other is better than having a partner, someone to love the whole year round. I mean, I’m 30 now (in fact, let’s be honest, I’m nearly 31), I want to get married and have children and, thanks to mother nature, my time for that is limited. I’m getting older, my eyelids are starting to get heavier and there are lines around them, my metabolism isn’t as fast as it used to be meaning I have to work harder to stay slim and I have grey hairs coming through (thanks for that Dad, could you not have passed those genes on to your son instead of your daughter!). I’m past my best (well, maybe not completely, but on the way), if I couldn’t find someone to love me when I was at my best, before I got old, cynical and jaded, then who is going to love me now? Ha! That’s so melodramatic, I get that, but these are genuinely thoughts that go through my head when I’m wallowing under my duvet on a Sunday afternoon feeling ‘oh so alone and no one loves me’. We all do it, even you. Don’t lie.
A lot of my single friends have recently started dating. And, as happy for them as I am, I’m jealous. And I hate saying that, it makes me sound so bitter. I’m being left behind. They are going on cinema and dinner dates instead of hanging out with me. When I feel like this, I hit the internet dating scene hard when, let’s be honest, it’s never really worked out well for me before (not that I frequently go on dates, I don’t really talk to most of ‘em). My friends say that I’m too picky and that my standards are so high that no one could live up to them. They are probably right; I don’t fancy a lot of people. I meet a man (or see him on a computer screen…) and I think, nope, don’t fancy you. No matter how attractive they are. I need to get to know someone first and their personality wins me over. Meaning I have a habit of falling for my friends, and when I say a habit of it, it’s happened twice in the last five years. Yep, in five years I have fancied a grand total of two men. Both were my friends and I blurred the lines. They clearly didn’t work out, cause you know, still single. But they are still in my life. I picked well. They are great guys, but they didn’t want me.
I mean, that’s the dream, isn’t it? To fall in love with your best friend?
So, where does this leave me now? Less than two weeks till Christmas, three till New Year and two months till I’m another year older. I’m happy in my career, it took me a long time to get here. To find something that I enjoyed. I am actually a thing now, a thing called an Editor, and I enjoy that title. It’s a title that I had to study for, that I worked, sometimes for free, to gain experience of so that someone would eventually pay me to do it. And now someone does. What’s next for me? Well, I know I should say career progression. Keep climbing the ladder. But, what I actually want is a family. That’s not something I can really control and any man reading this will probably be freaking out thinking that if they date me I will try and trap them into being my husband and baby daddy. I won’t, I’m not crazy. I want a family, but I want to do it right. I’m a traditional girl at heart. I want to do the whole courtship, date for a bit, maybe travel together for a while. Move into a little rented flat after a year or so, if that goes well then maybe buy somewhere together. At some point I will be hoping for a ring and then spend some time just being married before introducing a sprog into the equation. I guess this is why I’m so panicky about the fact that I’m getting older. Even if I meet someone this week, I’m still about 5 years away from having a child. I’ll be 35, pushing 36. And that’s if I do it now. What if I want more than one? The way my life is going is limiting me to one child, if any.
I know we can’t plan our lives like that and that’s the most frustrating thing about having this goal in life. It’s entirely out of my control. I can’t work harder or study for it or really chase it. Relationships don’t work like that. They just happen, don’t they?
I guess now I’m starting to think that maybe I need to be more realistic. Nowhere does it say that I will eventually get married. No one can say with 100% certainty that I will be a mum one day. And I’m going to be honest with you for a second, writing that sentence just made me feel a little like crying. Okay, I just said I’d be honest, what actually just happened is I wrote that sentence and had to hold back the tears. I’m sitting in Starbucks after all, people will think I’m some crazy person typing away on my laptop as I cry into my latte. But, it’s true. All those people who reassure me that it will happen for me one day, that ‘it happened for me so it will happen for you’, well, I know they mean well but it’s a load of crap. No one knows that for sure. I may well be that woman who doesn’t ever get married, who doesn’t ever have children and I think I have to accept that. Find a different way, that I can control, to be fulfilled in life. If I accept it, then maybe I’ll stop wallowing in self-pity under my duvet that I’m ‘oh so alone and no one loves me’.
So, that’s me. That’s why I’ve been feeling pants recently and sorry for myself. I’m sure I’m not the only woman to feel this way and I’m sure there are older women who will be reading this thinking ‘you’re only 30 girl, you’ve got ages before you have to start worrying about that.’ And I will stop moping, I promise. I’ll go into 2016 with a renewed faith that this will be my year. Just like I came into 2015. And 2014. You see the pattern, right?
2016 will be my year. And if it’s not? Well, there are always sperm banks.