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So, it’s ten o’clock on Friday night. I am sitting in my room, staring at my
picture with Cuba Gooding, Jr. Too bad
he’s married. I mean, he seems like a
really nice guy. If he is, his
wife’s lucky.
Am I lucky, even though I don’t have a man—a “good”
man? Sure I am. I have a whole lot, even without a man.
Today, I am happy with my life. I know it’s Friday night,
and some people would say I should have some exciting social event going
on. Some hot date.
Even though I am not inhaling the intoxicating scent of a
man’s cologne, or gazing into the eyes of a “tall, dark, and handsome,” I do
have a date—I have a date with my own destiny.
Tonight, there is something much stronger than the ache of
an empty womb and the pain of a bare left hand.
I am sitting in my room, perfectly content that I don’t have a husband
or children or the threat of either. Not
that I don’t want marriage or motherhood, it’s just that I’m okay with not
having those things today.
I mean, we’ve all done that—told ourselves that there’s
something out there we’re missing—some once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet
Mr. Right. Believed that we’ve got to
get out there and stay out there so that we don’t miss our chance. What chance are we really talking about? Most of the time we go out and get
disappointed. Either we meet someone who
seems really nice, but turns out to be a jerk, or we meet someone who, right
away we know is a jerk.
Well, I have decided not to do that tonight. Yes, it’s Friday, and I’m a young woman in
the “prime” of my life. Yes I could be
anywhere, doing anything, with anybody.
I could be the life of the party.
But, instead, I am the life of my own party.
Today, I have reached a milestone. I have grown.
For the first time in a long time, I am totally content with my life as
it is. I don’t feel like I need a
boyfriend or husband to have a smile on my face. I am genuinely happy, and I am celebrating my
progress.
Tonight, I am spending time with someone I love—me.
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