I reached a rather intriguing and potentially day-ruining milestone today - I have officially been single for a year. At one time in my life, this would have been cause for a tub of ice cream and a good cry. Yet, I've actually been pretty happy about it. I can't imagine accomplishing half the things I've done in the past year if I were in a relationship.
Not that my ex wasn't a nice, supportive guy. But I'm not sure that he, or any of the other men I've seriously dated, fully understood or appreciated my ambitions. I joke about my plans for world domination (don't worry, I fully plan to be a benevolent dictator), though I'm not always 100% kidding. Those delusions of grandeur you have as a kid? I never got completely over mine. And what I've discovered during the past year, is that it's a helluva lot easier to accomplish your goals without being in a relationship.
When you're dating someone, weekends often are spent in bed, or watching movies, or doing something obnoxiously cute like walking through a botanical garden together. But when you're single, you have entire weekends to devote to crazy things, like launching a nonprofit organization. Note from the voice of experience: it takes a LOT longer than a weekend. Being single affords one the opportunity to do as much or as little as one wants. And for a compulsive doer like me, that generally means you're gonna get shit done.
Celebrating a year of being single just a few months after turning 30 has also been easier to well, celebrate, because the selection of men hasn't been so astounding lately. Sure, I've enjoyed a few nice evenings and dinners in the company of relatively interesting guys. But not so many second dates. Maybe my standards have gotten higher in the past year. Simply put, I have great friends, a good job and entirely too many fulfilling hobbies. I'll gladly make time for a guy, but he has to be pretty damn fantastic.
Who knows what the next year will bring? Hopefully the ride will continue to be exciting... well maybe not quite as exciting.