suddenlysinglewomen

  This photo really grabbed my attention – it is SOOO me!   I grew up watching my Mom do the same thing.  Always caring and worrying about everyone else, doing very little to take care of her own needs or keeping her own dreams alive.  My Dad’s dreams were therefore her dreams.

I remember once being very young, and finding my mother sitting in a darkened bathroom, perched on the edge of the tub, just sitting there crying.  It was scary for a little girl, not understanding but wanting to comfort.  Later on when I was older I realized she has just suffered another miscarriage in their attempt to bring a second baby into the family.  To this day it’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever witnessed.   Silent tears and feeling that alone – I couldn’t imagine it nor understand it at my young age.

Now I get it.

My loneliness is a living breathing thing that I fight down, or attempt to, all the time.  Married couple “friends” hang out with “married couples”, it’s just what they do.  My single GF’s suffer the same as I do.  Don’t get me wrong, we do get together and try to help each other get through our lonely times – but just not the same as having your own “person”.  I so miss just holding hands with someone.

Humans need touch, we need people.  We were not built to be alone.  One of my biggest fears as I get older is that I will die alone.  The other day I lost a good friend to cancer, she had been battling it a long time but did it with such beauty and grace.  She had been a lifeline to me during the TYOTD, and was one that helped me hold it together.  She was my horse trainer and a gentle soul.  I would cry on her shoulder and she would offer gentle non-judgmental hugs whenever needed.  They were needed a lot that summer . . .

I never had to ask, she just knew I needed someone.  I don’t ever ask.  It’s wrong of me to assume that people will know I’m hurting, that I’m lonely, and I need them.  But I am like the photo above, always caring for others, trying to help others, and hiding from my own needs.  Can’t people see how hurt I am, how alone I am?  I mask it well, many years of practice and I learned from the best.

I’m so blessed that my Mom is still alive and almost 97.  She knows the “adult” me is here for her now, she doesn’t have to cry those silent tears.  And maybe someday soon I won’t have to either?