So I guess a week after turning 30 is a great time to think about relationships, marriage, kids, and my looming singleness.
It’s not a “oh woe is me” thing. Not even close. Just more of “huh” thing. I’m not really concerned with being single, and not in any rush to get into a relationship. You just don’t force that stuff. It’s all just harmless pondering.
I don’t really know where my life is going, so it feels ridiculous planning anything. Weird even wanting to plan anything. But, yes, this stuff does come across my mind every so often.
Do I want kids? I mean, kind of. Maybe. Not even sure any more. I don’t have that urge like some women to put a bun in the oven. And though I was most definitely, seriously considering it… I’m not even sure about adoption. I think it’s just more that my life is so not in the place to introduce kids that having any is sort of far from my mind.
In regards to marriage — yeah, I’d be ok with it if ever came down to the line. I won’t lie though, the idea of the huge party and the dress, that does appeal to me. But uber singleness here, so marriage isn’t in the picture. But I do sometimes wonder what sort of man I’d marry. For a while I thought it’d be great to marry a Quaker, someone who shared my religious background. But Quakers are so varied that, well, holding out for one would seem silly.
The type of guy I’d end up marrying would be someone who encourages me. Someone who supports me. Someone who is a Joss Whedon sort of feminist. Someone who likes cats. Someone with a sense of wonder, but can also keep me grounded. Someone who loves me to no end.
It’s not a check list or anything. It’s just that’s the type of person I deserve. That and so much more.
I just…. I’m just not in a rush. As wonderful and magical as those things seem. I’m not going to go moping around because I’m single. I don’t care that I’m single. I mean, I sort of hate being that “all is great, my life is fine and full of rainbow and sunshine” person. But you know, my life is fine. It’s not all rainbows and sunshine, but it’s far being terrible. Life is indeed good.
I don’t know what’s coming. I could meet someone tomorrow. Heck, I could already know him. We could end up adopting and fostering, like, 12 kids. Or have only a couple of our own. Or my mom can have a whole album full of pictures of her grandcats… I don’t know. And I don’t need to know. Not now. Why spoil the journey?