So, my best friend and I started a video podcast!

Hi Everyone!

Last week, my best friend Michelle and I started a podcast called, Holy•ish. It’s a podcast about us and our individual journeys with God. We picked the title because we think it’s the perfect description for those of us who are on this journey, but we’ve got a loooooong way to go before reaching Jesus-like perfection. I’ll be posting all of the episodes here on Fridays, but we upload all of our episodes on Thursdays to YouTube, iTunes, and Spotify. You can find it by searching for “Holyish Podcast.” You can also find us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter at @HolyishPodcast. Hope you enjoy it!

 

 

 

Why I’m Really Single

I’ll never forget the overwhelming sense of relief that came over me when I found out my ex-fiancé was cheating on me. Yes, you read that right, relief. Trust me, I was just as confused as you are reading this. I mean after all, I LOVED this guy, so why was it that after almost 6 years of being together and saying “Yes” to spending the rest of my life with him, half of me wanted to throw him over the balcony of our overpriced apartment on Wilshire Boulevard and the other half wanted to thank him? I didn’t understand that at the time, but I understand it now…

I’ve had boyfriends since I was 9-years-old. Yep, at age 9, John Powell purchased this cute little ring at the county fair with my name plus his name on it and that was it for me. He automatically became my first boyfriend. In the south declaring a boyfriend at such a young age made you “fast,” but Stephanie Tanner marry Harry Takayama on Full House when they were around 7 or 8, so I was right on track!

After him, there was another boyfriend at age 11, and then one at 13, and then one at 14, who happened to be the one at 13, but somewhere in that year, we broke up and got back together.  Then there was another boyfriend from 17 to 18.  Once I went off to college however, the boyfriend from 17 to 18 and I called it quits, and I entered into another relationship around 18 and a half. I was in that relationship until I was 21, only to get out of it and into ANOTHER ONE from the ages of 21 to 24.  Are y’all tired? Because I’m tired just typing it. But I’m not finished…

During the 21-24 year-old relationship, I remember feeling like I needed a break from boys, like I needed time to just focus on me, but I’m only saying that in hindsight because I didn’t even know what focusing on me was a thing at the time.  Besides, I thought I was focusing on me because wasn’t life all about getting an education and eventually marrying someone?  In the small Kentucky town I was from, people got married right out of high school and while I never desired for that to be my life, I was stuck in a vicious cycle of boyfriends out of what seemed to be habit.

Fast forward to the end of my 21 to 24-year-old relationship and I was finally solo…well, kind of.  I wasn’t in a relationship but I was still dating.  THEN, just a month and some days shy of my 29th birthday, I moved to New York City determined not to get into a relationship. I just wanted to focus on pursuing an acting career and a boyfriend was not required for that. I don’t know about you ladies, (or the few men that may be reading this) but when I’m in a relationship, I go all in and that person becomes a priority in my life in a way that can be distracting and draining for me, especially when it’s not being reciprocated. 

But I digress…

Remember a few sentences back when I said I was determined not to have a boyfriend in New York? Well, I arrived there in April of 2005, met my aforementioned fiancé in June 2005, and by December of 2005, guess what? He was my boyfriend. I know, I’m over me too.

Fast forward to November 2010, my boyfriend I swore I wouldn’t have/ turned fiancé and I broke up. I was at the end of my relationship rope. I was DONE. I did NOT want another one.  I was 33-years-old (what I like to call my “Jesus” year) and after 2 decades of boyfriends when most people were either getting married or married and on their first, second, or third child, I was breaking up with the man I said “yes” to marrying.

FINALLY, an opportunity to be single and at an age where I actually knew some things about life. Enough to know that I still had so much more I wanted to figure out and I could make decisions that weren’t influenced by someone I “loved.” Not to mention, I went from living in my parents’ home straight to roommates in college and in New York, so I had never been alone in any capacity. As much as I hated to admit it, that overwhelming sense of relief I felt when I realized my relationship was about to come to an end was quite possibly my soul’s cry for some much needed alone time.

Fast forward to 2019, and I’ve been single ever since…technically. I did see someone for a couple of months at a time here and there, but I have been single as in no serious, long term relationship for 9 years now. During these 9 years, I’ve had stretches of time where I didn’t even entertain face-to-face conversation with a man for 1 and a half to 2 years at a time.

Do I ever want to be married? Sure, but even after 9 years of being single, I’m in no rush.  And sure, I have my moments when I wish there was someone I could go on a cute date with but I cherish this time that I have to myself to sit quietly, thinking, writing and contemplating all weekend long in my pajamas and penguin socks if that’s what I chose to do (and more often than not, it is).

Being single this long does have its drawbacks, however. I’ve gotten so used to being alone that I’m extremely hesitant to share my space, time, and peanut butter with anyone else (there’s a story there with the peanut butter but we’ll discuss it another time). I’m pretty sure when the right guy comes along I won’t feel this way and I’ll gladly share with him. But unless he comes in the form of the Amazon Prime delivery guy, I won’t be meeting him anytime soon because getting me out of the house is next to impossible.

I should probably get married so someone else can kill the Spiders

While I am certain there are several life-enhancing benefits to marriage, the removal of arachnids from my living space tops the list for me.  Whew, chiiiiile if the feminists of the world are reading this, I know they want to throw their electronic devices across the room.  “KILL YOUR OWN SPIDERS!” they’re probably shouting at me through their screens.  But hey, don’t be so quick to chastise me. After all, I would be commanding my husband to kill the spiders, see?

I hate spiders, or any type of insect that decides to take up residence in my home without offering to pay rent.  I remember when I was home from college one summer, I spotted a spider in my mom’s bedroom. I shut the door, grabbed the cordless house phone, and called my Dad to come and kill it while I kept an eye on it from the crack underneath my mom’s bedroom door.

So see, I’ve always been accustomed to having men kill spiders for me.  When left to my own devices, I have torn down blinds, broken a ceiling fan, and punched a hole in the wall, all to kill a spider.  Which brings me to my next desire for a husband: So he can fix the things I’ve destroyed when he wasn’t around to kill the spiders.

I do have certain criteria when it comes to finding this husband though. The main criteria being,  I don’t want to have to ask him to kill the spider. I want him to automatically spring into action as a result of my reaction to the eight-legged terror crawling about in my living space. This proves to me that he sees the spider as just as much of an intrusion as I do.  If I have to ask him to kill it however,  we could never work. You probably say I’m being ridiculous but think about it: if I’m not around and he happens to see a spider in the house and his only reaction is a non-chalant shrug and turning a blind eye, I can’t trust this man with my life. He has literally just left a murderer to roam about freely in my living quarters!

One more requirement and then I’m done.  My future husband/critter killer can’t be scared of spiders also. When I was living in New York City, I dated a guy who jumped and squealed higher than I did when he saw a mouse in his own apartment. I knew right then it wasn’t going to last, but I hung in there for at least a couple of months because he had central heating and air conditioning. 

If you’re reading this and shaking your head, don’t judge me too harshly. Part of this is just my sense of humor and I truly do see a value in marriage beyond having someone to squish bugs. I love love and I love the idea of a life partnership with the right person. I’m just gonna need his vow to kill ALL the spiders in writing…and preferably spoken before God, a pastor, and all of our wedding guests.