When I was a little girl, I didn't play with dolls. I didn't dream of wedding gowns and tiaras or
of finding Prince Charming. Mostly I was
a tomboy who played in the dirt with my brother and the neighborhood boys. Even as I got a little older and girlfriends
around me were tearing pages from bridal magazines and planning their
happily-ever-afters, I was imagining life as a typical Cosmo girl – tough and
strong, with a cool apartment, lots of parties and friends - and maybe a
scooter (think Vespa in baby blue). I
dreamt of freedom. I dreamt of
independence. I wanted to be on my own – to make my own rules. I guess even then I knew I wasn't the
fairy-tale princess type.
How funny life is. I
have everything I ever wanted (except my Vespa – give me time – it will come!) I subconsciously veered my life in the
direction that my 8 year old self envisioned, despite the ever-constant
pressure (even in this day and age) for a single girl to settle down and find a
man. In fact, I am so stubborn that it
may have been that pressure that led me away from ideas of love and marriage.
They say don’t knock it until you try it - and I tried it
their way. I fell in love at 23 and I
reveled in the sweet euphoria that only love can bring. And I don’t mean I did it just because they
said so – I was really in love – and happy.
I lived the small town pseudo-WASP life.
I went to the social events, the soccer-mom vendor parties, the country-club
fundraisers, the family gatherings - I tried to play the dutiful wife – I was
just really really bad at it. It just wasn't me.
I was trying to live in a shell of someone I simply wasn't. I am impulsive and often irresponsible. I crave external stimulants and chaos and
noise that only life in the city can bring me – and eventually that small-town
life smothered me.
So now I do it myself.
I live alone and I pay my own bills.
If I want something, I buy it. If
I wake up in the middle of the night coughing, I get my own water. When my legs ache at the end of the day, I
run my own bath. If I picked up too many
things at the store (which always
happens), I make two (ok three) trips in from the car. If I feel sick, I figure out my own
meds. And I take out my own trash!
Now don’t get me wrong - I have PLENTY of help when I am
sick – I am not discounting the help
I get from my loved ones during this wretched cancer ordeal! Friends and family have been there for me
endlessly – preparing meals, taking me to appointments, helping with housework,
letting me cry on shoulders as required.
My chemo life would be impossible
without them and I will never be able to repay their kindness!
What I am saying is that in regular day-to-day non-cancer
life (yes – I do have one…it’s around
here somewhere I’m sure…) I’m on my own.
And most of the time, I love it. I don’t have to share my bed, I don’t
have to consider someone else when I make plans and I watch what I want on
Netflix (I never have to watch sports!) I sleep when I want, take care of myself (and my little fish, Ishy!) and I
pee with the door open. I make my own
choices, I hang out in my pajamas and I enjoy my quiet mornings alone with my
coffee and my laptop (P.S. – this phrase also works by replacing coffee with wine and mornings with evenings!) I am single. This means I have to sleep
alone. It also means I get to sleep alone. I am self-indulgent and set in my ways. I love my apartment, I don’t like to share my
things and I am terrified of
commitment. Clearly I am too childish for a mature relationship anyway!
As always, to you my readers, I will be truthful – I definitely
have my melancholy moments. Sometimes, this is all very tedious – particularly during
chemotherapy. Every now and then I long
for someone to be here to help ease my struggles – to rub my back and tell me I’m
pretty – to hold me when I am sad – to get me a snack because I am just too
damn tired to get it myself. I think
that everyone at some time or another just wants someone to hold their hand and
say with honesty “I will never leave you.”
I sometimes fantasize about being a cliché protagonist from a Sophie
Kinsella novel. Little miss independent
fights hard on her own and one day some Romeo shows up to sweep her off her
feet, despite her hardened exterior, and they live happily ever after. Except, there is no Romeo for me right now –
only cancer. And no one wants to date a
sick person.
I was on the verge of one of these woo-woo-poor-me moments a
few days ago. I was chatting with a
friend about her marriage and I caught a glimpse of what my married friends
have that I just might be missing –
unconditional love and support. A
partner in life to share the joys and help bear the burdens. I couldn't figure out why I was unable
(unwilling?) to find something that so many people had found. Was there something wrong with me? (Answer –
I make terrible choices when it comes
to men...unfortunately that is all me
- that is not something I can blame on cancer. Dammit – I hate when I have to
accept responsibility for my own choices!)
Within minutes of this potentially gloom-inducing
conversation, there was a knock at the door.
City Census. An older-than-me
woman with a friendly smile and cheery eyes.
She asked the standard Census-type questions: Marital Status? Single (she winked at me and exclaimed Good for you!) Employed?
Yes, full time. Do you
drive? Yes I have a car. Rent or Own?
I own.
This was one of the many little so-called “coincidences” in
my life that prove to me that God is real.
The timing was impeccable. Those four simple questions snapped me right
out of my petty feelings of loneliness and instilled a sense of validated satisfaction
with my life. I am not a rocket
scientist. I have not made any
world-changing discoveries. I am not a
super-mom maintaining a family, I am a terrible housekeeper and I don’t own fancy things. But I am
smart, strong and successful. I have a
job I love, my super-cute condo and an immeasurable amount of love from family
and friends. I have all these things as a single woman AND I am beating
cancer. I am a superhero!
Being diagnosed with a
life-threatening disease does change
one’s perspective on certain things and my perpetual singledom is no exception.
Prior to my diagnosis, I had decided to take 2014 off – no dating – focus on
me: My health, my faith, my family – Year
of Nicki! I am really bad at keeping
commitments (especially to myself) so the cancer came at the perfect time. Of course
there is no right time for cancer, but for me if it had to happen, I am glad it
happened now. It has forced me to slow
down and to focus on the things I have been letting slide – Faith in God – love
of family – compassion – human connections. I know that I don’t want to be
alone forever. But I also know that I am
fine on my own if that is my fate. I am
done changing myself or my beliefs and behaviours to suit other people. I believe that God has a plan for my life and
I am willing to wait for it to unfold. If He can get me through cancer treatment
as a single person, He can get me through anything. Whatever joys or challenges await me in this
life, single or not - I am ready. Bring
it on!
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