What a Difference a Year Makes

Last year at my California Sister’s son’s birthday party, I had the sense of being “alone in a crowd.”  I was the only single person in the land of families and couples.  I felt like the odd person out.  I think I was still in mourning of the loss of a possible relationship with a man I truly cared about.  But I wound up leaving the party early to go be alone and depressed (a phrase I now loathe).

So this year, at the birthday party, I was a little weary that I would feel the same way.  I was preparing myself for that “completely and utterly alone” feeling when you are surrounded by people.  But that emotional state never entered into my world this year.

Instead, I felt like I was with family.  I knew everyone there.  Everyone talked about the photos I took last year and they all tried to replicate one of the classic shots–where an FBI agent shot a marshmallow right into my lens.  (This year we used nerf darts for easier clean up).  I was still the only single person there but I didn’t feel like the odd man out.  Instead, I felt like the cool honorary Aunt.  I felt at home with my extended family.

I guess I am finally at the point where I am OK with the fact that I am not married and I don’t have any kids.  Actually, after spending an entire day with 9 year-olds, I am very glad I don’t have kids.  The great thing about being an honorary aunt is that you can play with them and spoil them but when they start to get crabby, you get to go home.  I find my kitties are much easier to deal with.  I am content with my life.  I consider this progress in my life growth process.

2 thoughts on “What a Difference a Year Makes

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.