Once a friend said to me that she hadn’t expected to be
single and childless so late in her life. I have to admit, I hadn’t expected
that either. I figured though I was having all the fun I wanted, at some point
I was going to find a man who loved me and wanted to be with me the rest of our
lives. I ran into lots of men, and loved some of them, but none of them turned
out to be the one that would light up my life.
Oh, I thought a few of them were. I thought I had gotten
lucky a few times but that didn’t seem to pan out. Nothing really wrong with
them. I was at fault too. They were good men and there was love involved, but
not that kind of love that can weather all the storms. When it got rough, it
got really rough and I couldn’t handle it. I realized I had completely lost who
I was in the midst of trying to keep him happy and it wasn’t working. He wasn’t
happy at all and neither was I. What was I doing? Why?
I met another one and thought he was going to be the one
who saved the day for me. Things were sweet for a while but when I really
needed him, he wasn’t there. He gave one excuse and then another but nothing to
really explain his absence. It became clear to me that he wasn’t the one
either. I figured men were in my life for a reason – to teach me a lesson and I
hope I learned those lessons. But that didn’t change the fact that basically, I
was still alone.
I met one other man who just snatched my heart out of my
chest. He was everything I ever wanted except for the fact he wasn’t as honest
as he should have been. And apparently he was looking for something other than
what I had to give. He wiped his feet on my heart and left.
So here I am. Still alone and hopeful. And yes, older. Am
I too old? I don’t think so but I guess some do. I don’t look my age and most
of the time, I don’t feel it. Yeah, I have days when the body just doesn’t want
to cooperate but don’t we all? That doesn’t always have anything to do with
age.
I use the Internet a lot. I know about online dating. I
met all the men I had been involved with the past few years online. I had been
successful before so I thought I would be again. I was wrong.
I prefer to date white men. If I was a white woman that
would be just dandy but I’m not. I’m a black woman and white guys have always
been my preference. I’ve not had to face a lot of ruckus over that fact but
that’s because I had already embraced my “different-ness” from most of the
people I knew and I didn’t care what anybody thought. All those things I liked
and did were all a part of my own unique identity and I had no thoughts about
changing any of that for anyone.
My parents were of course alarmed and distressed and we
had discussions over it but they both realized I wasn’t going to change and
they took a deep breath and faced the tact that their baby girl wasn’t going to
make their lives easy at all.
Some of my friends understood it and some didn’t. They
did what they did and I did what I did. Some thought I was brave because I made
the choices I made and I thought some were cowards because they didn’t. It
didn’t change anything. We remained friends even if we didn’t agree.
While I wanted a man in my life, I was quite clear about
what I wanted and what I didn’t want. The guys I grew up with were just not
ready for prime time. They might have been curious or playful, but they weren’t
ready to think about having a long term relationship outside their race. That
was ok. I really didn’t want to think about that with them either.
Racially, things looked all right in the place where I
grew up, but if you scratched that surface, racism was still strong and alive
there. No matter what, they still thought they were better than me. And I knew
better. I left home as fast as I could for greener pastures. I came home off
and on for different reasons and I played around with guys, but I never really
got serious about any of them. It just didn’t feel right for me.
I didn’t meet anyone that I wanted to get married to. I
didn’t meet anyone that I wanted to reproduce with either. I didn’t sit up at
night dreaming of having a big wedding and wearing a white gown or any of that.
I thought of it once in a while, but it wasn’t a big thing to me. I wanted to
travel and see the world and meet different people. I wanted to have a great
job and make money and buy a house and have all the cats and dogs I wanted to
have. I wanted to have an active social life and do all kinds of things and
have lots of friends. I went to college late and got my requisite degrees and
went on about my life. Not one of the men I met was a keeper.
Was this my fault? Was I purposely not looking for men to
be lasting and loving mates? I’m not sure about that. It just didn’t happen and
I didn’t question it. I went on with my life.
A couple of years ago, I sunk into an awful depression. I
had a lot of setbacks and it threw me for a loop. I’ve had moments and perhaps
a few weeks where I was down but nothing like this. I lived every day not
seeing the sunlight or feeling the air from outside. I sat in my room and
though I communicated with people online, I rarely saw anyone outside the
people I live with. I didn’t want to. I felt like my feet were stuck in tar and
that I couldn’t pull them out. My insides were full of black goo and I couldn’t
move. My eyes were coated with darkness and I couldn’t see. I was hopelessly
stuck. And I didn’t know it.
It wasn’t until I had to take a trip and get out of the
house for almost two weeks that it became clear to me that something had been
wrong. I saw a young couple that I loved very much starting their lives
together and joyfully expecting a baby in the future. I saw my young nieces,
ready for life and not even sure of what to do or where to go. I realized I had
lost my voice and I had lost my way. When I came home, I sought help and got
it. I’m still struggling with it, but I’m coming out of it. I can move and I
can see and most importantly, I can feel.
Ok, I’ve always been a late bloomer. I never did anything
on the same timetable as everybody else. I was late finding out about sex. I was
slow to have a serious boyfriend. I went to college later. I found my career
later. I got married late in life. I know my pattern.
Now I am ready for the man who stops the breath in my
chest when he walks in the room. I’m ready to listen to him talk and just
smile. I want to see the devilish twinkle in his eyes and feel the love when he
looks at me. I want to have the sex that leaves me breathless and sated. I want
to laugh with him till I have to run to the bathroom. I want to wake up and
look at him and marvel that he is there with me. I want to have fun with him. I
want to fight with him and I want to make up with him. I want to share my life
with him.
But first, I have to find him. And right now, I don’t
know how. Sometimes I’m afraid I will never find him. Other times I think I
will spend the rest of my years alone, that I am too old and that it doesn’t
matter now. I hope that is not so but I just don’t know what the next move
should be. But I won’t give up. I know he is out there, and that he is looking
for me too. That’s what keeps me going even when things look bad. Maybe I’m
late…but I’m ready.
