Single Woman Checklist (with Wonder Woman Status)

Growing up in the 70s, you can be sure that my sister and I had Underoos – the underwear that’s fun to wear.  With Underoos, underwear was no longer boring – you could pretend to be Batgirl, Supergirl and the best of all, Wonder Woman.  Sometimes, you just danced around in your underwear, but if you had to put clothes on, you could still feel like a superhero with your Underoos underneath.  And FYI:  They now make these for adults, so you can still feel like a superhero under your clothes (or just dancing around in your underwear at home).  Sometimes you need that extra superhero confidence, that feeling that you are powerful and can do anything. 

This past year, I could have used a new pair of Underoos.  My life this past year or so has been heavy on transitions.  The biggest transition of course is becoming single after having been married for a long time.  But how does one “do” single? Do you get a discount card?  (Apparently not!)  I was single before, when I was in my 20s.  But now, I’m in my 40s and nearly everyone I know is married and/or has families.  I am single -- single single.  I don’t even have kids.  So it is just me now and it feels kind of odd.  Having been married for 16 years, I’m used to having “my person” there at home, my touchstone.  Not that I’m looking to get remarried right away, but I think we all need that touchstone person (or people), we need to check in with others, to make sure that someone knows we’re ok (or not), that someone knows we’re alive and happy (or not), someone to tell our weird stories to.

There are some benefits to being single though.  One of the nicest things about being single is that I don’t have to be accountable to anyone.  I go where I want, when I want, for as long as I want, without checking in or worrying about someone else worrying.  But, it is a little too much alone time, even for a serious introvert like me.   So, the most important thing I have learned to do is say yes.  I decided that anytime anyone suggests some sort of outing, I will always say, “Yes, I’d love to!”  When you are married, you always say, “Well, let me see.“  But now, if I don’t say yes, I will just end up at home, sitting alone, talking to cats.  So, you want to go to see the world’s largest cuckoo clock?  Why, yes, I’d love to!  

Other Benefits of being single:

1.     You can eat ice cream right out of the carton every time with absolutely no guilt.

2.     No one else “accidentally” eats your leftovers from the Mexican restaurant.

3.     You can eat popcorn for dinner and no one cares.

4.     When you go to the store, you can buy whatever you want and not worry about what someone else might think (no judging!).

5.     You get the whole bed!!!!! J

6.     You get to decide about every single show on TV with no compromises.

7.     You always get the last cookie.

Disadvantages of being single:

1.     You have to do everything yourself (this one really sucks!) – clean the house, do the dishes, mow the lawn, do the laundry, vacuum, take care of the cars, take care of the pets, go to the store, pay the bills . . . (and on and on and on).

2.     No one to talk to at home but animals (which might explain why one posts quite a bit on social media!)

3.     You cannot buy a whole bag of clementines and eat them before they shrivel up.

4.     You cannot easily use “buy one, get one free” coupons at dinner, unless you take a friend.

5.     Cooking for yourself leaves you with a lot of leftovers (lasagna – for the fifth time this week), so you just don’t do it.

6.     If you want to go out and do something with someone, you have to actually ask and convince someone to do it (whereas with a spouse, you can guilt them into it).

7.     You have to make all decisions yourself – good or bad, it all comes back to you.

But the worst of all -- If there is a dead animal, you must dispose of it yourself!!!!!! (Gag, shiver)

Over the last several months, I have done many empowering things to take back control of my life -- physically, emotionally, etc.  I feel like I have been doing really well at completing the single woman checklist.  I have bought a new car by myself, refinanced my house by myself, started some remodeling projects on my house, but those are small feats compared to what I did last week.  I am newly single, but have always been very independent and hate to ask for help -- I have always just done everything myself, and I can do many things competently. However, I always throw in the towel when it comes to dead animals. I cannot, WILL NOT, deal with dead animals. One time, my cat brought me a dead bat, but I was home alone. I thought I could take it to the trash. Nope. I just threw a newspaper over top of it and waited for then-spouse to get home. Well, last week, I had a big dead blue jay on the front porch -- it's like it was a test  -- the final test to get my official single woman credentials.   I left it out there for a day thinking it might disappear on its own. Nope. OK – there’s only me to do it. First, I consulted with Dad, who laughed (!), then pulled on some rubber gloves, grabbed multiple plastic bags, scooped up and finally disposed of said-dead-bird. Single woman checklist: Dead animal disposal -- complete!  

So, if there isn’t some sort of single woman discount card, I still want some sort of token to express my new status in life.  When you are married, you wear rings – this is the symbol, this is the clue to everyone else that you are married.  When you are single, what is your symbol?  Just not wearing wedding rings?  No.  I needed something more.  When I was out with my mother one time this fall, we found ourselves in a store that had a lot of fun costume jewelry.  My mom, who has a more flamboyant style than I, convinced me to buy an enormous ring.  If you know me, you know that I wear very little jewelry, but if I do, it’s pretty understated.  This ring is not at all modest, actually it’s kind of the opposite of the rings I used to wear, but something about it appealed to me.  It is massive (takes up a good portion of my finger) and has various colorful stones in an asymmetrical pattern.  This ring is unique and somehow when I put it on, I felt powerful.  In fact, I decided that it would be my superhero ring.  If I needed to feel powerful, I could put this on.  It’s like when I wore the Underoos when I was a kid.  Whether I’m making major life decisions or just cleaning up cat barf, the new me, the new single me, has made a change.  I do feel powerful, I feel in control.  I don’t always need to wear my new special ring or my Wonder Woman t-shirt (also an important token) to feel that way, but they are good reminders of who I am now.  I feel like I now have my single woman credentials and I can deal with anything else that comes my way.  Wonder Woman status achieved. 

Transformation: Bathing Suits, Breast Cancer and Sumo Wrestling

Three words can strike fear into this woman’s heart during spring: bathing suit season.  This has always been true for me.  I have never had a great body image.  Throughout my life, I have strategically dressed to camouflage my thick arms, my very hippy hips, my lumpy thighs.  I have gained weight, lost weight, gained it back, lost it again, gained . . . .  I have been on every diet imaginable – Cleveland Clinic, Grapefruit, Scarsdale, Cabbage Soup, Adkins, Non-Adkins Low-Carb, Mediterranean, Vegan.  I have done so many trendy exercises – Jane Fonda workouts, step aerobics, pilates, yoga, spin classes, personal training, and good ole’ walking and biking.  I know that losing weight is all about eating less and moving more -- not really a hard equation to understand.  To put it into practice is another story.  I’m an emotional eater and a stress eater and the last few years of my life have been pretty stressful, so my weight has gone up and down (although mostly up).  

What’s weird is that no matter what shape I’ve been in, it’s never good enough for me.  If I am thin, I always think I should be thinner.  If I’m fat, I can’t believe I thought I was fat before.  And then there are my arms. The arm gene passed down through the women in my family is meant for sumo wrestlers.  And garment makers don’t seem to understand these arms.  There have been times, when trying on clothes in a dressing room, that I’ve gotten stuck IN THE ARMS and can’t get out.  Even when I’ve been thin, I have taken scissors to seams to let out the ARMS of a dress and not anything else.  Tank tops – no way, unless it’s under another shirt.  Sundresses – only with a sweater on top.  As a teacher, one of the reasons, but not the only, that I loved getting air conditioning finally was that I didn’t have to wear short sleeves at work.  I can wear long sleeves every day and feel safe.  So, with this vision of myself, the very idea of selecting a bathing suit is a horror.  (Brownies anyone?)

However, three years ago, my life changed when my very first mammogram showed that I had breast cancer.  It was a total surprise and I went through the gauntlet of surgeries, chemo and radiation.  As scary as cancer can be, it provides some positives as well.  You gain a different perspective on your life.  I really did become more thankful for what other people did for me, became kinder and more aware of others’ needs and realized that as bad as life could be, there really are things that could be worse. 

One of the other things that happens when you have breast cancer is you get a bit less modest.  You get used to all sorts of people looking, prodding and examining you in various states of undress, including  . . . your arms. 

So has this helped me with my body image?  Maybe so.  Ever since I was diagnosed, I stopped worrying about my weight, thinking there were too many other things to think about.  But then, this spring, something clicked in my brain.  I decided that once again, I was going to try to get in shape – but it was more than just losing weight – it was about being healthy and being strong.   Since spring, I have lost a considerable amount of weight, but it was not just a physical change, it was a mental change.  I was starting to shed my previous life – shedding the negativity, shedding the stress and anxiety and finally, shedding the physical product of that stress and anxiety – the weight.  Several people have asked me how I lost all that weight.  I sheepishly answer, “I eat less and exercise more. . . .”  (Which is the only combination of activities that causes weight loss).  But I do make a concerted effort every day to eat less and every day to exercise more.  If there was any actual magic to it, it was the letting go of my previous life and mindset.

But back to this past spring, when bathing suit season loomed.  I have a colleague friend who has a pool.  She often invites people to come over.  I started to think, could I do it?  Could I deal with bathing suit shopping?  While breast cancer made me a little less modest to be poked and prodded, it also made me a little, um -- lopsided.  I have pretty much come to terms with my lopsidedness because I get special bras to even things out.  However, I hadn’t yet dealt with a post-cancer bathing suit – this was a whole different concept.

However, now it was new me, transformed/transforming me.  So, on the second invitation to the pool, I decided that I’d better go shopping.  Stepping into the store, I braced myself.  In front of me was every size and shape imaginable, most of which I would not wear.  But I started looking and trying on different things.  On.  Off.  On again.  Off again.  After about an hour, I had narrowed my choices down to two suits – two tankinis with shorts.  One looked better overall and one was better at evening out my lopsidedness.  And as I struggled to make the final decision, I had one of those moments of clarity.  I realized that I really didn’t care if the bathing suit covered up my flaws or showed my sumo arms.  I really didn’t think my friends from work would care if my chest was a little lop-sided.  So why should I?  I quickly bought both suits and the next day, went to my friend’s pool, a little more confident, a little less self-concious and ready to be in the sun. 

Postscript:  I have lost more than 50 pounds, many inches and several sizes.  Interestingly enough, the only place on my body where I haven’t lost any inches – my arms!!!! But, at least they are a lot more muscular – I may end up being a sumo wrestler yet!  ;)

Homeless and Homecoming

I have been homeless for one year and one month.  When I say that, I must explain that I have been fortunate enough to have a place to live, just not in my own home.   Last year, I left my home in the middle of the night with only my nightgown on.  I had to leave a bad, impossible and ridiculous situation.  I reached my limit – right then – and I left.  The only option I had that night was to leave my home.  Of course, I had the weird but thankful circumstance that my parents lived next door, so that’s as far as I went that night, but I might as well have gone 1000 miles away considering how my life has changed since that moment.

In one year, I have not slept in my own bed, have not sat on my own couch, have not played my own piano, have not cooked in my own kitchen.   For Christmas, I didn’t decorate a tree (or anything!).  For Thanksgiving, I didn’t use my own dishes.  In summer, I didn’t have my annual croquet tournament.  I didn’t plant a garden and I let the weeds cover my patio.  Life changed.  I was living in limbo, in transition, in transformation.  Home is where your comforts are, until they are no longer comfortable.  Then, it is no longer home. 

With awkwardness in excess, living next door to my own house (and former husband) was short-lived.  I moved further away to the lake house that my parents have been renovating for a few years.  It was a sanctuary.  It was peaceful.  It was separate from the chaos.  It was very comfortable, but it was not home.

I have waited, with teeth clenched, holding my breath, for this new moment.  I am now home.  If you would come to my house, you’d probably think it was pretty dumpy.  It has been neglected for a while.  It needs to be painted.  It needs plumbing work.  It needs to be thoroughly cleaned.  It needs to have floors refinished.  It needs to be renovated.  It needs a lot.  But it’s all mine now and I love it.  It’s old and has character and is beautiful.  However, it is an enormous house for just one person.  So, I’m not sure how long I'm going to stay here.  But I am going to put a lot of work and love into it.  I am a huge fan of architecture and houses – the house deserves to be renovated and renewed.   

Coming home made me reflect on what that word “homecoming” means.  We just recently had Homecoming at school. I have a friend from Columbia who asked me what Homecoming meant.  I told her that the original purpose was a time for alumni to come back and visit and it is a celebration with all sorts of fun events.  So, here I am at my own homecoming -- literally coming home to my house, my stuff, my comforts.  I think I should have my own celebration, maybe not a parade, but at least a party to commemorate this change.  I have been and will continue to be renovated and renewed.   I have come home.