The Tranquil Vintessa

There comes a time in every girl’s life when you have to sit yourself down and ask, “Why am I dating?” Typically, this happens in your late teens or early 20s, sometimes even younger than that. I know society puts pressure on everyone to get married and settle down. It’s as if that’s the only thing we’re good for—just work, reproduce, and strive for a dream that’s getting farther and farther away. That being said, I have come to the conclusion that I’m not all that interested in that dream.

When I was 12 years old, I remember being on the phone with an older kid and having a conversation we were too young to have. He told me he wasn’t ready for kids (of course not; he was probably 14). After we hung up, I sat in my room and asked myself, “Do I want kids?” I went back and forth, made a pros and cons list, and decided then and there that it was not for me. As I got older, my stance hasn’t changed or wavered. It’s simply something I don’t desire. I used to come up with all these facts and reasons, but it doesn’t matter. The big answer to “why” is the same as it was all those nights ago—it just isn’t worth it to me. It never has been.

Now, the idea of marriage is a bit more nuanced than having kids. I was even surprised to find that out about myself—that I didn’t want marriage. It was something I never thought about when I was younger. I know they say that little girls everywhere dream of their big day, where they can be a princess. Not me. I always wanted to live in a condo in a big city with lots of friends, have a doorman, and a cute pup. That’s not what people want to hear, and I learned a long time ago to go along to get along. Not everyone needs to know your life story, so I just didn’t tell them.

As I got older and entered the dating world, I never took it seriously. In high school, I always chalked it up to high school lovers and figured it would fall off. College was for parties and hookups, and afterward, I didn’t know what I wanted. So, I coasted. I was in some long-term relationships, but I knew they all had an expiration date. It’s not that I didn’t love or like them; I just knew that the life they were offering wasn’t one that I wanted. Then my ex and I broke up, and I took a moment to sit with myself and figure out what I wanted in life and everything that encompasses it.

I read “The Mountain is You” by Brianna Wiest (a life-changing book—check it out). There’s this one part where she tells you to envision your dream life— who’s around you, what you’re doing, what the day looks like. When I did this practice, I realized my life is consumed by work and social meetings, but no partner. I come home to a happy dog, not a husband or kids. When I pressed myself to think of someone, anyone, it was a long-term boyfriend asleep on the couch. We didn’t interact. It shook me to my core, to be honest with you. Did I really not want that? No one there when I get home to share life with? I’ll be honest; I was sad for a moment, taken aback by the fact that I wanted to be left alone after work and with my friends, but I’ve always been this way. I’d rather have a string of lovers than a consistent partner. Why? I don’t want to change who I am to suit the needs of another. I know people say you don’t have to change for the right one, but marriage is work, and you have to compromise your life and all that. While I’m open again to a long-term partner, marriage is just not something I’m seeking. I don’t want to explain why I’m leaving or why I’m home. I don’t want someone in my space or saying they need more of this or that from me. More importantly, my business and success have always been very important to me, and I need that to be important to them too, and in some cases, it’s not.

If anything, I would want something like Oprah and Stedman—a long-term partner who remains my partner but not my husband because I don’t want to sacrifice our lives due to what the other expects of their partner. More or less, I like my life the way it is, and I don’t want it to change. It makes me happy every day and every night. I live a life of passion, and when one relationship gets too much, I’m free to leave. Maybe one day, I’ll find my Stedman, but for now, I’m fine with just my Chris, Tony, Evans, and Walters.