The holidays are hard for me. Each year, it gets a little harder – hurts a little more – stings just a little deeper. I don’t understand how incomplete I feel when I know that I have a very full, blessed life. But I am. Just like a woman who finds out that she’s incapable of having children – a hole is left in her heart – so it is with mine. However, unlike that woman – she can go through fertility treatments and adoption. Whereas, I am left with my gaping hole. There are no scientific tests or drugs I can take to cure being single. I suppose I could “adopt” someone – meaning, settle – but that wouldn’t leave me happy. Adoption of a child still makes that woman happy.
My mom tries to make it so it doesn’t “feel” like I am alone. My parents spoil me, go overboard with gifts, to make up for my lack of a husband. They make plans on holidays to make sure I am not alone, even though I know they’d rather be at home…sleeping…and not staying up until midnight to ring in the new year. Yet, they come over and force themselves to be wide awake when that ball drop. But for the second year in a row, I did not celebrate the new year. I went to bed to avoid seeing the happy, fulfilled, kissing people on the screen. I went to bed – alone – again.
I have done so so so much in my short life – and most of it requires…guess it doesn’t require, but is usually traditional – a husband in the picture. I have a child. A wonderful, amazing teenager whom I am trying so hard to devote more time too…I have earned a higher degree and switched careers mid-life (ish)…I’ve upgraded our house to a real house, not a condo…and none of these accomplishments leave me feeling complete.
Just as I know God designed me to be a teacher, I know he designed me for marriage. I have been following His word for years, putting Him first, and wrestling with my singleness. And while I am at peace, more often than not, the holidays make it all the more obvious that there is a void in my life. I have such an amazing life, I’ve been blessed beyond measure…so why, why can’t I find that one someone to share all of this with? And why, when God knows the deepest desires of my heart and the extent of my longing/emotions, do I remain – as ever – unchanged?