Stop Waiting for the KitchenAid

BY MEGHAN REEVE

Meg is a 36 yr old iced coffee drinking California girl living in the PNW. She is a tiny human teacher and a cheerleader for the dreams of not only the tiny humans but every human in her life. She strives to show others who they are by trying to be exactly who she is on the daily.

It feels fitting that I’m writing about being single in your late 30s while sitting at an all-inclusive resort for couples in the Bahamas.

I’ve been more or less single all my life. There've been some boys, some almosts; there’s been heartbreak, and there was a boy who I loved a lot who died.

I’ve heard all the things about being single as a woman in the church. I‘ve been told to try dating apps (I have), that I need to put myself out there more (debatable), and that I should try going to a different church (yeah, that’s not a thing).

But by the time this goes up, I will have turned 36, and I’ve learned a lot about what it looks like to be single in my own skin and as much as I want to fight against the terminology and the boxes, I feel as if since they are there I have to learn to work with them.

I’m not the friend that people attempt to set up. I’ve never been the one that people think it’s weird that they are single.

I’m more or less the strong independent woman of the friend group. And I’ve learned to own it.

I think I always want to write words about being single to tell someone that I’m ok, to not feel sorry for me.

I’m not brave because I’m single, just brave because I’m me.

I don’t need an award or a ministry or a devotional.

I don’t need someone to tell me it gets better.

I want to be a person who doesn’t tell people they are brave because they are single. I want to be one to tell you that you are pretty BA regardless of your relationship status.

And most importantly I’ve learned that I need to stop waiting.

Take my KitchenAid Mixer for example. About 4 years ago or so, I decided with a few months left until my birthday that I didn’t need to wait for a ring on my finger to buy a KitchenAid. I’m a baker and a cook, and I’d wanted one for so long.

So I decided that starting that week I was going to start saving ten bucks a week until my 32nd birthday, then I was going to buy a KitchenAid.

Well, the universe also was apparently answering that for me. The following week my friends gifted me a KitchenAid as an early Christmas present, my mother had one getting shipped to me, and the family I was going to spend Christmas with had already decided that they were going to buy me one.

I didn’t need a ring. I just needed it to put it out in the universe.

I also don’t want to disregard your feelings. I don’t want to say it’s not always hard. I don’t want to say there aren’t nights with tears.

I don’t want to say that sometimes the thought of doing life alone isn’t aggressively depressing (disclaimer to my friends reading this. I know I’m not “alone”). But there is that very evident knowledge that eventually the men in my life will have women, and I will be just myself.

I’ve learned that I am my own first choice.

And if that’s how it is the rest of my life, I’m going to be just fine. And I will be living the exact life I am meant to live.

I realize this might not be the pep talk you need to hear, and I realize I’m not a human who uses soft and gentle words. I’m not a human who is going to tell you that your better half is coming. Maybe they are; maybe they aren’t.

I AM going to ask you to please choose to just live.

I’m going to ask that you remember you’re the main character and that you don’t need another human to live your story.

I’m going to ask that you write a love letter to yourself.

And for the love of all that is good, please if you want a KitchenAid, please just go buy a freaking kitchen aid.