Okay, so we have this idea that we’re supposed to find our soulmate at some point in life, hopefully early enough that we haven’t gotten a bad reputation trying to find him. Hopefully early enough that we don’t have “mom butt” when they find us – my sister told me about this. She says her butt turned into a pancake after having a baby, but my butt is already pretty flat, so I just can’t even imagine what will take place post birth.
Anyway, we have this goal of finding our one true love. And there can only be one of “The One”s because the term is literally the number that defines one solitary thing. And there are all these moments when we think we have found him. You’re two months into a relationship and you are consumed with obsession over him. When he goes to the bathroom you say, “I’ll miss you!” Every waking moment is spent trying to get closer and learn more about each other. And you think that a lifetime just would never even be enough time to stare at his face or listen to him sleeping. You finally found each other. Then one day he tells you that he thought The Bodyguard was a boring movie and that his celebrity crush is Denise Richards and all of a sudden you’re like, “Oh no, you’re NOT the one!!” So the relationship fizzles. Obviously you tell people it didn’t work because you found a suspicious email on his phone, not because of the whole Bodyguard/Denise Richards thing. But then you think you’re back to square one, without a soulmate. But as I get older, I’m starting to think there might be another theory that is more logical in life.
I’m not married. I’ve never even been engaged. I’ve had about four serious relationships in my life. None of them worked out. But in a weird way, they were all kind of my soulmate in different ways. One boyfriend turned out to be a pathological liar, but in the time we were together, he made me feel like I was the most beautiful and special human to grace the earth. He told me every day that I was perfect (remember, he was a liar). Regardless of the outcome, I felt truly loved for about two years and it honestly healed a lot of stuff I needed to mend in myself. I will always be grateful for that. Another boyfriend seriously couldn’t keep it in his pants. But he encouraged me to be independent. He wanted me to have things for myself and to work towards my goals. I will always appreciate that. Another boyfriend – who was a workaholic – let me be funny. I was always embarrassed to be funny in case my boyfriend thought it was nerdy or embarrassing, but he really let me be who I was and let me be proud of it. I have never been the same since.
The point is that when I was little, I thought everyone’s life had the same plan. I thought I was going to start liking boys at 13, would have to start watching what I ate and be healthy when I was 16, would decide what I wanted to be and start making my own money at 18 and then would settle down with my husband and children at the mature age of 30. Well, that isn’t exactly how it’s gone down. And I’m pretty sure that it’s going to be all right. It’s always good to make a plan, as long as you can go along with it when the plan changes on you. Every failed relationship, perfect man gone flawed or perfect plan gone wrong has pushed you towards what’s waiting for you. And if it brings you to one special person, then you better be thankful of all those idiots who prepared you for him. They shaped you. Take the pressure off this one perfect other half. How much more amazing would life be if we were expected to have like 10, 5-year relationships throughout our life?! Now, that’s something I can get down with. People come into our lives so unexpectedly. Oh my God, what if I’m one of your soul mates?