The Tranquil Vintessa

There’s an episode of Sex and the City where the main girls are talking about the imaginary war between single women and women in relationships and how women in relationships “won” and they essentially lost.

I never got that. When and where did getting into a relationship become the prize?

I get it back in the 1800s and early 1900s, but now that women can work and fund their own lives, why do we still put such an emphasis on finding “the one”? Even now, when we picture a woman who “has it all,” it’s a career, a partner, and kids. She has the traditional American dream. And until you’ve reached that, you’re just floating around waiting for your life to begin.

Even if you’re happily single, people assume you’re waiting for Mr. Right, the perfect man to come along and make an “honest” woman out of you, like being single isn’t a real thing.

I once heard someone say about the concept of death, “All she had was work. No man, no kids. She had nothing.” Like, excuse me? Look around you. She loved her career, she had her family and friends, and she was happy. She had joy. She had love. Yet somehow that still wasn’t enough to reach society’s goals for happiness.

These past few years, I’ve started thinking long and hard about how I want my life to be. What I want it to look like and how I want to feel in it.

And I realized I want to live nontraditionally.

I don’t want kids. I’d be happy single, though I’d also be open to having a partner. But my main thing is that I want a community of people surrounding me who I can depend on. I want a solid group of friends who, despite it all, have each other’s backs. I want to be able to call my friends during a rough patch and have people to celebrate my wins with. I want people who call on me when they need help and want me there to celebrate with them, too.

I thought about what would make me happy at the end of the day, and it wasn’t a relationship. I’ve never been happy in one, and I don’t want to spend my days chasing something just because I’m supposed to want it.

For me, being single isn’t a waiting room where I sit waiting for happiness or fulfillment. It’s not a consolation prize for being sick of dating one too many assholes. It’s my life.

I’m not bitter. I love love, and I love seeing my friends get married and enter a new chapter of their lives. Maybe one day that’ll be me. Maybe not.

But I’m not waiting for an imaginary checklist to be completed before I can start living. My life has already begun, and it will not be defined by what others think it should look like or by societal expectations.

My life is mine. I’m already living it.