We do not always have it together, and that’s okay.
I was supposed to teach the first session of Mommy and Me Yoga today. I did not.
I was supposed to vend at a Black cultural festival today. I did not.
I got sick last night/this morning from food I had no business eating. Due to that and just not properly managing my rest this week, today I was too weak to do the things I’d committed to my Self and others that I’d do. I failed them and my Self.
What’s more, the burden of singlehood has been heavier lately. When anything needs to be done, there is only me to do it. If I don’t clean, my house is nasty. If I don’t cook or go grocery shopping, I don’t eat. And if I don’t work, I don’t make money for the bills that there’s only me to pay. So when days like this happen, they have a ripple effect that can grow into a tsunami of problems if I I I I I I I I I I don’t take care of it.
And that can be tiring. Being alone can be draining. Couples have each other, plus two sets of friends to call upon. Families tend to have larger villages of friends and relatives to lean on. My personal experience has been that I am a part of others’ villages but don’t have one of my own. And it’s not through lack of trying.
So this sounds like a long complaint post. It’s not. I’m not seeking pity or condolences or encouragement. I’m used to this. I’ll get through this. It’s what I do because that’s the only way I’ll survive.
No, I say all this because it’s a life experience that isn’t exclusive to me, and I want folks to think about the people, the single and loner people, who seem like they always have it together but who in truth are crying in the dark of their homes after giving time and energy to loving on others. The ones who get called on when they are needed but never get called on to see what they need. The ones in the village who always return to an empty hut after celebrating others.
Remember us. See us. Support us.