Friends Indeed

Man, do I ever have a roster full of beautiful, talented, funny, intelligent and gifted friends.

When you're 50 and single, as in the never-married variety, it's really easy to let societal ideology convince you that you're inadequate or that something is wrong with you because you haven't found your "better half."  I pretty much bought into that flawed line of reasoning up until recently and I'd like to explain how I started to see things in a new (and proper) light.

First, I want to be clear about my thoughts on marriage.  I believe that marriage is a beautiful and sacred institution that should be celebrated and honored.  And despite my ex boyfriend telling me that at 50, my relationship/marriage potential has a shelf life (yeah, he's a real peach of a guy), I see myself being married one day.  My therapist thinks so and she's almost always right, so I'll just go with that.

In the mean time, however, I plan to take advantage of my singleness while I'm still fortunate enough to have it.  I have opportunities that married people do not.  Beyond financial constraints, I can do whatever I want, whenever I want with whomever I want without having to check with my husband first.  I can spend my money in any way that I choose and if the travel bug inflicts me, I can pack a bag on Thursday and take off for London for a long weekend on Friday.  I can indulge my cooking, entertaining, dining, flirting, shopping, music and movie fancies at any time.  On its own, that's a pretty sweet gig and I know that some people would kill for that privilege and that freedom, so I consider myself fortunate to have it.

But for me, being single is about more than just having the freedom to cater to my whims.  For one, I have an opportunity to spend time cultivating healthy and edifying friendships with both men and women.  This is so important to me because at 50, I see how all my friendships have influenced me and shaped me into the woman I am today, and I really like that woman.  Arriving at that place came at a cost, but there's not much I'd change, particularly when it comes to my friendships. 

Recently, I got to spend a glorious weekend in Chicago with three girlfriends from high school, Jane, Carmen and Karla.  It's been 30 years since we strutted the halls of Maquoketa Valley High School every day with each other, but those women are still young, vibrant and beautiful to me.  We ate and drank and giggled like teenagers, except this time it wasn't over boys.  Full and tipsy, we laughed (guffawed, more like) over weight gain, the 50s forgetfulness phenomenon, family drama and men, or the lack thereof.  I love those women and although I don't get to see them very often, I can't help but mentally refer to them when I'm planning a party, choosing coffee or making decisions about family matters.  Oh yes, they're an influence.

The other day, someone was teasing me about having 672 Facebook friends, insinuating that many of those people aren't really friends.  My insecurity and twisted need for approval got the best of me, so I took it as a challenge to prove this person wrong.  I went down my list of friends from A-Z and surprisingly, I found that I want to stay connected to almost all of them.  I have American Express friends, Atkins Park friends, Woodruff Arts Center friends, Trinity Anglican Mission friends, Bad Brains friends, Jefferson Park friends, and Delta Global Staffing friends.  My friends are chefs, musicians, artists, builders, cheerleaders, entrepreneurs, 9 to 5'ers, Christians, photographers, teachers, lawyers, parents, baristas, doctors, students, Jamaicans, Marines, Republicans, Democrats, gay, straight, black, white, husbands, wives and singles like me.  And those labels don't even begin to describe what's important about them.

So what is meaningful about them?  Obviously, I don't have the same connection or share the same level of intimacy with each of these people, but each and every one of them has influenced me in some way.  I value those friends because, they ARE me.  God gave me my identity but all of these people make me think and help me shape my ideas, form my opinions, and steer my interests.  I recently saw a quote on Pinterest that said, "You were born an original so don't die a copy."  Whatever.  There's not a person on earth who's completely original and I'm quite OK with that.  I'm a product of every person I've ever known.  I think that if we all spent less time trying to be original and more time building meaningful relationships with a medley of people, we'd be much more fulfilled.  We'd certainly learn more, be more compassionate and gain the vision to see things from a different perspective.  I don't worry about dying a copy.  I just don't want to die with a closed mind.

At this point, the question becomes, "What am I going to do with all of this experience?"  This is where the gift of singleness becomes relevant and is the reason I'm thankful for my singleness, be it temporary or not.  I have a unique opportunity to serve God without the distractions of a husband or children.  I hope you're not picturing Mother Teresa because I'm certainly not qualified to serve in that way.  But I think that God is using every relationship (good and bad) as preparation to serve.  God has given me friendships with couples who are thriving in their marriages and fellowship with them has shown me what healthy looks like.  Through the process of grieving over my own loss, my capacity to listen and be compassionate has increased tremendously over the last couple years.  So if I had to guess, I would say that I'm expected to serve by way of listening, guiding, consoling, helping and counseling others, particularly those that are struggling with being single.  I wouldn't have said this a year ago, but I am abundantly thankful for that privilege today.

If you're reading this, you're likely one of my friends so I'm going to use this opportunity to thank you for being just that.  You all did such a good job raising me!

A Brief History

When I was younger, I thought about being 50 and what my life would look like.  I saw a loving husband, adult children and even a grandchild or four.  I pictured a lovely home, possibly on a lake, and a comfortable way of life.  I envisioned family reunions, practical shoes, photo albums, a squeaky door, a labrador retriever, early to bed and early to rise, routine and stability.

As if.

I have a lovely home, or rather, it's lovely to me, but nothing else about that picture I just painted exists in my life.  Thirty years ago, I never could have imagined the life that found me or the life I've lived for the past 3 decades.  I grew up in a town of 800 people in Iowa and at 23, I set off for my adventure.  Adventure?  I'll say.  Along the way, I've experienced a full share of tragedy, gut-wrenching heartache, loss and betrayal and watched my family members suffer in addiction, divorce, poverty, abuse and a devastating hereditary disease. 

It's been overwhelming at times and I've wanted to throw in the towel more than once.  Not in a suicide kind of way but in a "I'm just gonna lock myself in the house and eat Ben & Jerry's with a side of Cheetos while chain smoking and listening to Adele" kind of way.  I did that for a few nights, but it got old quickly and I eventually had to leave the house to buy more Cheetos.

I didn't really lose my mind.  I was just shooting for dramatic effect when I came up with the title to my blog so I could get your attention because if you decide to follow it, I think you'll be delightfully entertained at the very least.  My hope is that as you read my story, you'll also identify with some of my thoughts, relate to some of the choices I've made surrounding my circumstances and be comforted by hearing it as it parallels your own story. 

Just to be clear, this isn't a blog about agony, pain and suffering.  You'll get a bit of that when I tell you about some of the no-good, lying, manipulative douche bags I've fallen for that I'm totally not bitter over (really, I swear!).  You'll read about other unfair and just plain kooky made for TV episodes of sheer nonsense, but the point of all of it is to show you that life is still good.  God is always good even when things don't make any damn sense at all.  Crummy circumstances and joy are not mutually exclusive, I have found, and there's almost always a lesson to be learned or a blessing to enjoy amidst the turmoil.  ...a silver lining, if you will.  You'll read about the silver linings, my exquisite taste in music and movies, my fantastic job, my adoring pit bulls Henry and Ruby, how I dominate in the kitchen, my travels and all of my neighborhood's debauchery. 

I know that I'm an extremely fortunate lady and my story is one of hope and victory, redemption and restoration.  I want you to hear about all of it because I think we're in this together. 

Stay tuned...