I have been single now for 6 years and have lived alone for 3. After being married for so long and raising so many kids, it has taken me awhile to get acclimated to single life. On paper, it sounds very cool to be able to do whatever you want, whenever you want. But like everything in life, it takes getting used to.
During the whole period of adjustment, you can't really let on that the process affects you like a deer in headlights at times. Married people raising families are envious of your carefree existence and you have to keep the mystique going for their sake. The last thing you should do is complain or appear inept at being by yourself. You would never want anyone to know that you weren't as happy as a pig in poop with your single status.
I was never sad, but I really had problems getting used to things like grocery shopping for one. I have this race going on with milk and bread. In all the time I have lived by myself, I have never been able to finish either before they went sour or moldy.
Don't even talk to me about cooking for one. After cooking for 6 for decades, cooking for myself is so hard. I like homemade food and I like it fresh. My grandmother lived alone for the last 25 years of her life and kept everything in the freezer that she possibly could. She never put a date on anything and you took your life in your hands when you ate at her house. She boasted that nothing went to waste because she froze it all. I remember once asking her where all the bags of pecans came from at the bottom of her big Amana. She reminded me that her sister Johanna brought them back from her trip to Georgia. At that time, my great aunt Jo had been deceased for 3 years and her trip south was way before that. See what happens to women who live alone? I was not going to let this happen to me.
I loved my grandmother dearly but I don't want to be single and hoard antique food. It's because of this fear that I have forced myself to walk right up to the butcher counter and order one pork chop from the case.
“You can't really let on that the process affects you like a deer in headlights at times.”It didn't take me long to appreciate not getting out of my pajamas all day on a Saturday or walking around the house completely nude. It would all be so totally liberating if I could do these things and believe that I was a hot single lady and not a crazy old woman. Lounging away your day in bed or prancing around your singles pad naked are instantly negated when you also talk to your dog. I am not talking about commands, or a "good doggy" here and there. I am talking about "Mommy has to go put some clothes in the washing machine, but I will be back in a minute and then we will have a treat. My baby will be just fine for a few minutes... I will miss you. Mommy loves her doggy so much!" It doesn't matter what you are wearing or not wearing. It doesn't matter that no one is there to hear. Crazy old woman, right?
Speaking of laundry, why do I have so much? You would think that with no kids or partner that my laundry life would be streamlined. Not so. When I began my life as a single girl, I got rid of anything that was so-so or average and kept everything fabulous for my new life. I still ended up with way too much clothing, linens, bedding, etc. I justified my abundance of fabulousness with thinking that part of being queen of my castle is having options. I could use anything I wanted any time. I could change my comforters and bedding to fit the season. I never had to wear the same outfit in the same month. You would think this lifestyle would have set me free and released my inner diva. Not so. I just have a lot of laundry. Fortunately, I live alone and have the time.
There is no doubt that when nobody is around, you tend to be different. I have already admitted to having long interpersonal conversations with the dog. That's not the worst of it. I have been talking to my plants since the '70s, so add that to my behavior. I also talk to myself.
I see things on TV and remark out loud that I think what I am watching is stupid. I go through the mail and critique each piece in my best on stage voice. "Junk, bill, junk, junk... oh look, Macy's is having a big sale!" Nobody ever jumps out of the woodwork and says "Great! I need some new towels... let's go!" Why don't I just think these things? Who am I talking to?
I look in the mirror and comment directly to my image in the glass on the state of my aging face like there is someone to hear my woeful complaints. I catch myself sometimes and imagine what it might look like if I were being secretly filmed when I speak aloud to no one but me. The word "loopy" springs to mind.
My neighbors are all older than I am. They think that I lead this fantastic life of a successful single woman with not a care in the world. I do admit that I lead them on a bit. I wave as I return from Saturday errands with my array of dry cleaning in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other as I close the car door with one sexy bump of the hip. I dash off inside leaving them to assume that my grocery bag must certainly contain imported cheese and French wine. They will never know what my bag really contained: some salad makings and one lonely pork chop.
The truth is that I have gotten used to the single life by being a legend in my own mind. I give off a little bit of a Hugh Hefner vibe and pretend that my life is a brilliant carousel ride filled with fun and excitement. No one ever has to know differently if you don't tell.
I am very happy. I love my life. It is only because I have sorted it out that I am able to be a content lady who lives alone. Here's what I have learned about being single later in life:
The BEST Things:
- You don't have to tell anyone where you're going (the dog is optional).
- You never have to state when you are coming back.
- You have no one to please at home but yourself.
The WORST Things:
- Nobody cares where you go.
- Nobody is expecting you back.
- You have no one to please at home but yourself.
I never promised you that life couldn't be bittersweet, but it is good.
