Introspection (Unrelated to Italy)

My biggest fear has always been that I will wake up when I am 70 years old and realize I never did all the things I wanted to. Actually, that’s not totally accurate. I used to think this would happen when I was 60 but as years slip past I feel the need to push that age, give myself more time for the dreams and goals. Suddenly 60 is far too close for comfort.

What is it about dreams and why do we always put them into the category of “someday…”? “Someday I’ll learn another language” or “someday I’ll travel to Australia,” such that no dream can be voiced without this prefix. In fact they can’t even be thought without it.

I’m going to say it out loud: I turned (gulp) 40 last year. It sometimes hurts to think it, hurts even more to say it out loud. I reassure myself that I don’t actually look 40, and maybe you’ve heard… 40 is the new 30. Putting aside current warnings about our dire health prognosis, we’re generally supposed to live longer than the generations that came before us but 40 is still a milestone I wasn’t ready to hit. Maybe I should have broken the dreams and goals into decades, what to do before 30, what to do before 40, etc. But the more parameters you put around it the easier it is to miss the deadline.

There are so many small things I can think of that I want to be sure I do while I’m still able to do them: live in Europe for a while (check!), learn that language (working on it), keep traveling the globe, take painting/cooking classes, and go skydiving. I know that I can do any of those things whenever I want to. Whatever roadblocks are in front of them are of my own making and are therefore easily navigated.

But there is that one looming goal that is much more elusive because it is not really within my control. I never imagined I would turn 40 and still be alone. Alone may be a strong word because ultimately most of us are not really alone. We have families, friends, coworkers, and neighbors. We can walk out of our homes and be surrounded by other people at any given moment. But the nature of our society is that we pair up, find a partner, a lover, a spouse and from there create a family.

What about those of us who don’t follow that track, not for reasons of choice but for reasons of circumstance? Could it be argued that deep down we do make a choice, that there is some part of us that really doesn’t want it and that’s why it doesn’t happen for us? I have hoped for a long time to enter into a serious, long-term relationship as have my numerous beautiful, smart and fabulous single female friends.

I feel that I have tried to meet people and create opportunities for myself to find it. I go out on the dreaded first dates, work hard at the witty banter that accompanies such things, laugh, flirt, and (I am loathe to admit) occasionally even toss my hair. I put forth the positive, confident woman in those early stages of the relationship in an effort to maximize the opportunity for growth.

Yet here I am, still no serious, long-term relationship to add to my resume, no “+1” for parties, no guaranteed date for New Year’s Eve. I can’t change my Facebook status to “In a relationship” and have that status update cyber-blasted out to the pages of all of my friends. I’m not sure why this has proven to be so elusive for me and I certainly can’t explain it when I look around at my aforementioned fabulous single friends. Maybe I need to stop the hair toss…?

“Someday I will have a long-term relationship.” I hope I will. I think I will. But because it’s not in my control, it’s coming off my dreams and goals list. I can still skydive and travel to Australia, relationship or not. I’m going to keep working my way down the list and as things are checked off, I’ll add new ones. So when I wake up at 70 (er, make that 80…), I’ll realize that it’s actually the new 60 and I have plenty of time, whether there’s a +1 or not.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *