Okay… before I start sounding like a jilted lover… I never even met this man. We were simply “talking.” For hours on end- repeatedly. I should have seen the signs, I should have known better- but, in my usual fashion— I allowed myself to become hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, this guy could be The ONE! Giddy giggle, cough, choke, laugh. Then, he posted on Facebook that he was in a relationship. Okay. No problem. I get it. I had nothing invested in this relationship- barring the $1.29 I spent on iTunes to buy Walking on Sunshine- Just because it seemed fitting.
Ugh. Then, about a week later- he called. Full of complaints about this new girl. His complaints were so similar to the complaints I have voiced so often in the past. I commiserated- and he kept repeating that he and I would be perfect together- Heck, I should move to this other state- (Where there is a disproportionate number of people of the Mormon faith). Then, the next day on FB- he was gushing about this woman- the love of his life. I deleted his phone number and unfollowed him on FB. Now, I only checked it when someone reached out to make sure I was “okay.”
Then, tonight- he has apparently proposed. ???? WHAT???? Are you kidding me? You have known this woman for all of five minutes. And, you “Know” she is the one? WOW! So, I call my usual suspects- who happen to know this fella- to inquire about his confusing frame of mind. I am not sad. Remember, I do not know this man- However, I am bewildered. Embarrassed. Shocked. Most importantly, I am dying to lash out and say something snarky to this dude. However, as a professional, adult woman in her mid-30s, I would NEVER do something like that.
So, I am relating this embarrassing tale with the knowledge that no self-respecting woman would give this another moment of her time. Well, I have not always had this much self- respect. It is entirely too easy for me to have lapses of judgment, and to participate in my youthful ways. You know, rush heart first into every new relationship- err, rather date.. with the intention of “making it work.” Just knowing that the man of my dreams was sure to swoop in and rescue me from the entirely too scary fate of becoming a spinster. HA! Oops, I messed that one up. Guess who is most likely a spinster? Yep, you got it. Me.
According to the handy-dandy dictionary App on my iPhone- A spinster is: An unmarried woman who is past the usual age for marrying and is considered unlikely to marry. Oh, my. What is the usual age for marriage- let me google that. According to the first site I opened- (that is the best way to get accurate information- this is wisegeek.org), the current usual age for marrying in the US is 25.1 years. Eek! I am almost 10 years too late. Not sure if this qualifies me for spinsterhood, but- it might be close enough to cause me alarm. To make me lose a little sleep at night. Yes, I may be overreacting, however… I am somewhat concerned. Maybe I am too picky. Maybe I am too undesirable. Maybe I am too… Me. The crazy cats (yes, it’s plural- no, there are not 10 of them… yet).
Women today are expected to have it all. The perfect body, the perfect career, great hobbies, wonderful friends, and an awesome husband. Oh, and a gaggle of perfect children with a plethora of amazing talents. She must devote time to charity, be civic-minded, and always stay calm. Organic Paleo cooking- stand by your man, and all that crap. I am obviously not up to muster in the womanhood department. I do not know how to walk in heels. My clothes rarely complete an outfit. I am too loud. My hair is usually a mess. I am still terrified of the eyelash curler. How on earth does one do a smokey eye anyway? My car is always a mess. Heck, I am not sure how I manage to make it through everyday in the state I am in.
Now, of course I do not actually expect any other woman to live up to my standards… No, we girls need to give ourselves a break- and love who we are. Celebrate our curves- let our voices be heard. But, late at night… when I am all alone, and once again assessing who I am as a woman- I have a sense of failure. Why are we taught from a young age that we need to get a man, keep a man, and then raise a man? (I am helping to raise a man, with the wonderful assistance of my family- and he is perfect and talented- not to mention- absolutely too handsome for words).
This is all ridiculous. I find it appalling that I hold myself to standards that are so outdated. Why do I need a man to complete me? Thanks for that Jerry Maguire. I have spent the last almost 20 years searching for a hapless, secretly wonderfully flawed man to find me and love me. ugh. I seriously think this is why I am attracted to guys who are a mess. Surely, they will accept me for me. (On a side note- I have a seriously mentally ill cat who is determined to destroy my house.) Where is the love that I am supposed to be lavishing on myself? Where is the amazing sense of accomplishment that losing weight and having a career should be affording me? Why am I still waiting? More importantly- what am I waiting for? It’s like the U2 song- “And I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.” You know what? I still haven’t figured out what to look for.
Which brings me to my next issue. We have all heard the saying- “You will find him when you stop looking.” Well, if you are not looking, how do you know you have found it? What, exactly is it? A companion? Someone who makes you scream in the sack? A protector? A provider? A friend? I want a beau. I want to be wooed. Just like Mr. Darcy woos Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice. Please let a man look at me like that. Please. Let someone crave my company. Let him want to share his stories with me. Let him think of me at random times through the day- and just send me a little emoticon. Seriously. I do not want much. I just want someone to share my life with. I want to be challenged. I do not want to be lied to. I do not want to be placated. All of these romantic stories must have started somewhere. I mean, have you read Nicholas Sparks???? Do these men even exist? Until I manage to find this man- I am better off alone- away from the elves and other untrustworthy folk.
2 thoughts on “Elves and Other Untrustworthy Folk”
I think you can. 🙂
Although I’m no longer waiting for a man (against all earthly and heavenly odds, I found him), I’m still waiting. Waiting for a better career, a new place to live, something different, something that will satisfy my soul. Still figuring it out, after all these years. And I guess that’s okay. I mean, it has to be, right?
Yeah- I relate to waiting. It seems to be a recurrent theme in my writing.
I kept waiting for my real life to start. I am not sure when I figured out this is my real life, but… I am really glad that I did.