Holding Out For Peace...

​It’s Sunday morning, and I’m looking out the window at the valley below. My townhome sits about 950 feet above the neighborhood, and this time of year, the trees are painted in every shade of red and gold. The sunrise is small today, tucked behind soft gray clouds, but it’s still beautiful. It always is. Even in winter, when the branches are bare, this view fills me with gratitude.
Every time I sit here, I reflect on how everything aligned perfectly for me to find this space. I think about my family, this year’s Camino hike, finishing my book, and how my life has become more fulfilling. And I realize that much of it has come together because I’m single.
If I had a partner, this year would have been completely different. Maybe it would have been better, maybe not. I’ll never know. But I do know that I wouldn’t trade this peace for anything.
I spent twenty-five years riding the rollercoaster of someone else’s mental and emotional instability. And if I’m truly honest with myself, it has taken the better part of the past six years to heal from it.
The first section of my book, Untucked, is devoted to stillness and the peace I’ve found in that stillness. It’s become a necessary part of my life. So, at times, I wonder what it would be like to share these quiet mornings with someone.
Looking back at the men I’ve met and dated, I realize how much I’ve learned about relationships and myself. Men, at least those I’ve encountered, seem to struggle with stillness and peace. They feel compelled to fill the silence I’ve come to cherish.
If this were a lighthearted post, I could joke about the memes celebrating single life surrounded by my stuff, my space, and my peace. But honestly, I’m just thinking about what it would really be like to share my life with someone again.
There’s a strange tension between wanting companionship and refusing to sacrifice myself to have it. I see women who are joyfully single and others who stay in relationships, giving up parts of themselves to avoid being alone.
I feel more whole and complete than I ever have in my life. And when people tell me I’m “a catch” or ask why I’m still single, I no longer take it as an insult. I one-hundred percent believe it will take someone very special to meet me where I am and for me to meet them where they are. And I’m willing to wait.
I believe God still has someone for me, but I’m in no rush. I’ve learned that love should never cost you your peace.
For now, I’ll keep enjoying my view, watching the seasons change, and giving thanks for a life that finally feels like mine.

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