single is powerful, when you're single.

I had just moved to New York, for my boyfriend, when my boyfriend decided that he no longer wanted that position. I was 27 and ready. I knew what size my ring finger was, we had shopped for furniture together, he had purchased the condo that I wanted, in the neighborhood I wanted to live in. I was ready to sign up, or give up, or whatever. And then it was all over.

New York seemed the place to be. I felt embraced by single women in their late twenties all over the city, and within two weeks I realized that marriage had never been something I had wanted, why was I duped into thinking I wanted to or had to marry this schmuck? I abandoned my idea that security=marriage and I jumped into my female friendships and felt completely fulfilled. Yes, this is the city to be single. Yes, it is good to be single at this point in my life. Yes I am happy here and now!

I hold true to this being my attitude. Not that it stopped me from making eyes with men at bars, and getting phone numbers from men I would never want to call. I was just having fun, practicing. I wasn’t dating and I wasn’t really thinking that I needed to or wanted to.

Bryn said “It’s time.” I think she was referring to talking to men I might actually want to talk to, or make out with, or have dirty, raunchy sex with. So I scoped out a cute boy at the bar. Then I chickened out. Then his friend came over. He was kind of a jerk, but cute. So I got his phone number. Then I called him the next day. Then I decided to sleep with him on the first date, as I felt like I wanted sex and didn’t want a relationship.

“Getting into relationships is hard in this city.” My friend lamented over a beer two months later. I nodded, “hmmm.” I said agreeing with her sentiment. My other friends chimed in about how fun life is that it is hard to make time for men, or for them to make time for you. “Right.” I said. “And it is just hard meeting people who want to be in relationships.” “I know.” “Well, other than for Sara.”

It’s true. I had, without any intention, gotten into another relationship. Actually it was more like a Relationship. Our first date led to many, many more. I had flown to his home town to meet his family, we had shared holidays together, and talked about how we would be together for a long time. We had just broken the “I love you” barrier. Things were blissful, delightful, delicious. I couldn’t be happier.

And yet this was not the picture I had painted for myself. I envisioned nights of dates with my girlfriends, movies alone, long runs with singles running groups. I was ready to embrace the modern notion that single is powerful. I was ready to reject all of the messages my time in the Midwest had embedded in my subconscious. I was ready to yell to the world, “Me alone is enough! I am just as valuable by myself as I am with a man!”

My love story, beautiful, romantic and magnificent, was unexpected to say the least.