Full of Turkey...
So, I like to think that I've gained acceptance, these past 18 years, of my fate. I like to think that I've accepted, with grace and gratitude, that my life is, and will be, that of a single woman, with friends and an open social calendar. I like to think that my life is full and happy and a good one.
And then the holidays roll around.
And I'm reminded that, really, I am single and alone and living the full-on single life.
And instead of embracing the fact that I don't owe anyone anything, that I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, I realize that *freedom*, for me, exists only during the holidays, when Big G goes off to visit the shitty half of her relatives (the ones that aren't around during the important times, the times of school conferences and homework and driving her to appointments, to doctor visits and dentists and performances and friend's birthdays, etc.,. but magically insist on their *rights* to see her during the holidays...those relatives).
My freedom only exists during the holidays, when everyone else gathers their relatives around, decorates their houses, networks and cooks and eats. A very, very lonely time for me but a time I'm supposed to embrace, to enjoy, to relish. Only I don't.
I go to the store and buy massive amounts of food for people who aren't around. And then I sometimes field phone calls from friends who feel sorry for me...from the comfortable but cold couch while watching all of my old tv shows. But usually I just sit around and get angry.
Angry at the sometimes boyfriend who really doesn't want a serious relationship but only makes that abundantly clear during the holidays. Angry at the kid who blows me off during the holidays, only to reappear on occasion to ream me out for not spending money I don't have on her. Angry at the relatives who have chosen to blow me off every holiday.
And really, really angry at all those people who tell me how lucky I am that I don't have a house full of relatives, an obligation to attend family events, a kitchen full of leftovers.
Thanksgiving blows. Maybe next year I'll feel more grateful.
And then the holidays roll around.
And I'm reminded that, really, I am single and alone and living the full-on single life.
And instead of embracing the fact that I don't owe anyone anything, that I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, I realize that *freedom*, for me, exists only during the holidays, when Big G goes off to visit the shitty half of her relatives (the ones that aren't around during the important times, the times of school conferences and homework and driving her to appointments, to doctor visits and dentists and performances and friend's birthdays, etc.,. but magically insist on their *rights* to see her during the holidays...those relatives).
My freedom only exists during the holidays, when everyone else gathers their relatives around, decorates their houses, networks and cooks and eats. A very, very lonely time for me but a time I'm supposed to embrace, to enjoy, to relish. Only I don't.
I go to the store and buy massive amounts of food for people who aren't around. And then I sometimes field phone calls from friends who feel sorry for me...from the comfortable but cold couch while watching all of my old tv shows. But usually I just sit around and get angry.
Angry at the sometimes boyfriend who really doesn't want a serious relationship but only makes that abundantly clear during the holidays. Angry at the kid who blows me off during the holidays, only to reappear on occasion to ream me out for not spending money I don't have on her. Angry at the relatives who have chosen to blow me off every holiday.
And really, really angry at all those people who tell me how lucky I am that I don't have a house full of relatives, an obligation to attend family events, a kitchen full of leftovers.
Thanksgiving blows. Maybe next year I'll feel more grateful.
posted by Knittin 'n Stitchin at
11:59 AM
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