Every year, my family has a tradition to get together the weekend after Thanksgiving for another post-Thanksgiving dinner. This year, Aunt and Uncle (who shall remain unnamed) did an excellent job of pulling it all together. About 200 of us gathered for an afternoon of just enjoying each others' company (and Grandpa's mashed potatoes and gravy). These are the moments I wouldn't trade for anything and the moments for which I am deeply thankful.
However, it's become more and more evident with each family gathering that I am a disappointment to some of my extended relatives. Unlike their own children, I have not married at 19 (or 20, or 21, or... you get the point). I've never been congratulated for graduating college (with a 3.9 GPA, by the way), working towards a Master's degree, serving a mission, learning to SCUBA, buying a house.... Sometimes they ask how work is going, but I can tell how some aren't really interested in the answer.... None of it matters compared to my failure to marry, I guess. It's always the same. "Where's your boyfriend? What do you mean you don't have one? Why not? You need to get on that." Although I know their gentle reprimands are meant to encourage me to find greater fulfillment in life, I often wish I could show them-- if only for a moment-- what it means to be in my position-- single yet fulfilled. I know they want the best for me, but I can't help but feel emotionally spit on when my current circumstances are so detested. Way to add insult to injury.
At these family functions, I tend to get a lot of pity too. My relatives find that my life is lacking, and they try to appropriately express how sorry they feel for me. To that, I try to bite my tongue and respond with kinder words than I instinctively wish to use. Don't feel sorry for me! You see, in a way, I feel sorry for those who haven't been able to see life through the scope of my experiences. Yes, I know I have missed out on a lot of growth and learning to be done within a marriage; however, I am nonetheless still living, thriving, and learning a great deal that (sorry, married folks) those who marry at young ages won't get to learn in the way that I have. I repeat: Don't feel sorry for me.
In that sense, I am profoundly thankful for the lessons I've learned (and continue to learn--some just yesterday) during my time as a single girl in a culture that values marriage and family above all else. Here's my list of lessons learned that I will forever cherish:
- Don't judge others. "Don't you want a family?" "Your career is obviously an excuse." "You're just scared of losing your independence." "You're not trying hard enough.".... I've heard it all. Yet, these cruel comments usually beg for the reply, "You don't know where I've been. You don't know what I've had to go through to get where I am." How, then, could I point an oblivious finger toward the beggar, the broken family, or the rude clerk at the grocery store?
- Losing face is not the end of the world. I've found that more strength comes from being humble than in being arrogant. My life may have the mark of disapproval from many, but it doesn't matter. Where others may see failure, I see opportunity for growth.
- Some people want to hurt me. Not everyone is kind, and I need to respect myself enough to stand up to those people. I need to respect myself enough to keep these kinds of people out of my life.
- Not everyone wants to hurt me. In spite of unfortunate experiences with those mentioned above, not all people are bad. I need to take risks sometimes and let people into my life even though experience would teach me to trust no one.
- Taking care of oneself is important. It's important that I remember to love myself. In so doing, I am able to enjoy the solitary moments and appreciate my own company. As I take care of my physical, emotional, and spiritual self, I grow as a person. I won't be able to resent myself or my situation, because I'll always be able to rely on myself.
- Taking care of others is important. Bitterness toward humanity is not an option.
Through caring for others, being dependable, and demonstrating honesty in all my interactions, I am able develop genuine and lasting friendships both inside and outside of my family. - It's all right to both accept and reject advice. Enough said.
- Disappointment happens, but life and responsibility don't pause to let us nurse our wounds. Sometimes the money I save up gets sucked out of my savings to pay taxes, fix the brakes, or buy stain for the fence (that I then, subsequently, have to stain by myself). Sometimes the dog eats my favorite bird. Sometimes that guy I've been trying to get to ask me out suddenly announces that he has no interest in me and wants to date my friend instead. Sometimes data meetings at school make me feel as though I'm the worst teacher in the world. But I still have to get up and keep on keeping on. I can't rely on someone else to coddle me and take my problems away. I have to stare those problems in the face, emotional as I may be, and tell them that they will be resolved-- that I am not destroyed.
- Patience truly is a virtue to be practiced... and practiced... and practiced.... Patience is trust-- trust that all good things truly do come to those who wait... even though, while we wait, terrible things may befall. Patience is more than just waiting too. It's moving forward with goals. It's understanding that maybe those good things we wait for won't come until the next life. And that's OK. They will come.
- It's all right to be successful and not feel sorry for it. I learned a new term over the weekend. "Intimidation factor." (Thanks, Obispo!) Apparently, girls who are successful are intimidating. So intimidating, in fact, that it scares the guys off. My question to this was, "Does this mean I have to become less successful if I want to get a boyfriend?" Absurd, right? Why lower my expectations when, truly, it's the gentlemen who should be raising theirs?
- It's not enough to do the right thing. It must be done for the right reason. It's easy to make good choices when others are watching. When I'm with my students, or my nieces and nephews, or any children-- I'm especially aware of how important it is to set a good example for them. At work, with my colleagues, it's the same. When surrounded by family, I feel encouraged to make good choices. Why, then, should it be any different when I'm with myself? I could get away with a lot now, and no one would ever have to know. I've learned that I need to stubbornly do the right things, not because others are watching. I need to do them, simply because they are the right thing to do.
- Time is a gift. Using time wisely isn't always my greatest strength. (Thanks, Netflix.) BUT, due to not having kids, I am able to use my time in ways to develop my own talents. Whether it be checking the air pressure on a tire, fixing a leaking pipe under the sink, or becoming a fairly talented chef (if I do say so myself), there is never reason to be bored. Why limit myself when it comes to taking on new skills? Old dogs can learn new tricks.
- Love comes in many forms. How's my love life, you ask? It's fabulous! I love so many people. Just recently, as I took my niece shopping for a new outfit, I thought my heart would burst every time I looked at her. It's the same feeling I get whenever I hold my nephews, watch ridiculous internet videos with my siblings, or listen to my parents tell stories from "back in the day." I feel such love in return when my kindergartener niece tells me, "I will love you five-ever, because forever isn't long enough." (Pause and say, "Awww!!!" Adorable, right?) I have friends whom I love (yes, LOVE) scattered throughout the world (yes, WORLD). I love so many people that I hardly have the time to stay in touch with all of them. So, how's my love life? Keeps getting better. How's yours?
- The Lord does not forget anyone, and he never chooses to leave anyone behind. By far the most personal lesson I've learned is this. Many years worth of lonely moments have brought me to my knees on numerous occasions. I've felt forgotten and betrayed by others. I've felt left behind as I've watched those my age, and now those much younger than me, get married and start families. I've shed many tears asking the Lord why I'm not good enough yet to be a mother. I've cried myself to sleep many times wondering why I was chosen to fulfill the roles which I'm in when there are other roles I'd rather be filling. I've struggled through making difficult decisions without the aid of much-prayed for inspiration. I've learned that sometimes the answers to my prayers are "yes." (Although, that response doesn't come as often as I'd like it to.) I've learned that sometimes the answers to my prayers are "no." (And thank goodness!) Most often, though, the answers to my prayers are "not yet" or "I trust you." With every prayer, though, I receive the assurance, "I love you. You are not forgotten, and every promise I have made will be fulfilled in its proper time and way. Trust Me."
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