How To Be Single

On the flight from New York to Seattle, I decided to watch How to Be Single with Dakota Johnson and Rebel Wilson. I’m awesome at picking terrible movies but they’re kind of the only ones I really enjoy. Name one. I’ve probably seen it five times. Anyway, beyond the badness, I could sort of relate with Dakota and how she was learning to be happy on her own. She’s probably living with two cats right now, too.

Lately, some of my friends have been a little too comfortable with telling me that I might be addicted to being single…getting too cozy with living alone. Sure, but isn’t everyone? I mean, how could you not love having every night to yourself? Never having to be responsible for or answering to anyone else? Doing whatever you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want? Isn’t this the ultimate kind of freedom?

Let’s be honest. He probably  won’t love working out as much as I do. And his shoes are definitely  ridiculous. He without a doubt picks his nose.

FINE. Hi, I’m Fi. I’m a single-o-holic.

My therapist mentioned the word “trauma” the other day. It freaked me out. She said that my last break-up inflicted trauma to my heart. And when people experience upheaval like that, they do everything they can to prevent it from happening again. She explained the only way to truly recover from trauma is to replace the bad experience with a good one. Oy.

Look, my current situation has given me the opportunity to get to know myself and find my voice. It’s been the most liberating experience. I used to fear being alone and now I can’t get enough of it. <I’ll never forget when I tried to force myself to spend time alone. I took a book with me to a coffee shop. Ordered a coffee. Opened my book. Got a text about a Bloody Mary brunch. Tossed my coffee, closed my book and took it with me to the Bloody Mary brunch. Moral of the story: Don’t force yourself to be alone. It will come naturally. Promise.> I want to take more solo trips a la Cheryl Strayed in Wild, spend Friday nights watching that one show that begins with a “D” while eating Paneer Tikka Masala, and I want to enjoy weekends on my own terms. (Yay to knowing what I want!) It’s given me an opportunity to become stupidly grounded in who I am so that there is no possible way I could ever let anyone change that.

So right now, I’m going to let myself bask in my current status because I really do love it. Plus, I still have to take that Wild trip.

But…BUT…I do recognize that being a single-o-holic isn’t only rooted in enjoying Fi time–it’s also a result of fear. As someone who is doing a ton of work in conquering her fears, it’s time to acknowledge that maybe I am scared shitless of heartbreak or even a relationship that works. It’s time to admit that by staying in this safe space, I’m not truly reflecting what I’ve set out to do, which is being open. So I’m committing to opening up more. Of course I’d like to get to a point where relationships aren’t terrifying. This doesn’t mean I have to give up Fi time and be conjoined at the hip with someone. That’s not anything close to what I want. But it could mean that someday I’ll have to…I mean, want to…share my couch when that one show that begins with a “D” is on. Could be nice. That said, I absolutely will not share my Paneer Tikka Masala.

It’s time to make decisions that allow me to use more than half my heart. Here’s to saying “yes” to being open to love on all levels–not just some.

 

 

 

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