This is a /v/vent post, so I'm going to be pretty much all-out venting. I'm admitting I haven't done everything right here, and some of my other posts try to make light of my status, but it's really eating away at me. Being single, female, and well-to-do has its perks, but I've always wanted to have a family and I realize that whole thing is running out of time.
A ton of my frustration is at how this whole modern American society normalizes getting married post-30, normalizes women having dedicated careers before being expected to jump off the wagon and have kids long after their ovaries have taken a massive downturn, normalizes atheist-core marriages with no philosophical grounding, normalizes divorce, and normalizes women having careers to the point in which family-bound women are seen as second-rate citizens.
However, despite this, I am not without error. I realize I've made massive errors in my past 25 years that has helped contribute to my status now. I'm pretty certain I've learned my lessons, but it quite possibly be too late at this point. Or maybe I'll get out of this by the "skin of my teeth" or however the old saying goes.
The Vent, My Mistakes, and My Frustrations
I was born into, raised in, and still have a traditional Christian family. I love this. I'm so grateful to have this. I loved it, and as things have progressed (starting when I turned 16) I knew I wanted to be a traditional wife like my mothers before me. I knew I probably wouldn't meet anyone off the bat, so I prepared by keeping my grades at a solid A in high school.
That same year, during the inevitably concerning college hunt, I spent a couple weeks of the summer in a coding camp at a local university. I met a kid--I'll call him Buck for the sake of his privacy--who would be one of the biggest regrets of my life. We were fast friends, and being the only girl there I really needed some. Being the shy kiddo I was at the time, I planned to let the friendships resolve at the end of the camp. Inevitably, when my parents drove across the state to pick me up, my mom found out that I was not only the lone woman at the camp but that I also had made a friend...
She demanded that I give him my number. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I gave him my home phone number and we parted ways... (I think my mom might feel bad about this whole thing in retrospect, but she had no idea what this would turn into.)
Lo and behold, he called and wrote. A lot. He wasn't a bad kid by any means, but we were both immature. He had a not-so-great family life that I wasn't aware of at this point, but simply made him very, very damaged goods. But after meeting that Christmas we started dating. He seemed--at this point--to be a very caring and traditional man. He worked and grew up on a farm, was very much a grounded personality, calm, logical, and was planning on entering engineering as a field of study. Just to ensure I was able to pay my bills and not waste my intellect on anything less fitting, I also planned to enter engineering.
We ended up going to college together, and like any young person who hasn't learned her lessons the easy way, I made the mistake of sleeping with him--a decision I still rue to this very day. It fucked with my head (no pun intended) and we began a spiral towards codependency that would last the entire 4 years of college.
As time passed, I became reliant on him for emotional support. He became increasingly abusive in as many ways you can think. As his abuse caused my emotional state to deteriorate, I required more emotional grounding, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. He renounced the things I considered vital to my identity--Christianity, conservatism, self-sufficiency, etc... Things really fell apart. Feeling I had made a mistake by sleeping with him, I tried to piece the relationship back together feeling stuck.
By the beginning of my senior year, Buck had dropped out of school (or, failed out honestly) and had begun exploring men as a possible homosexual, without my knowledge. I can only assume he kept me around to keep his parents from finding out about his divergence from normality, but I was in no way aware of what was happening behind my back. At this point abuse was the norm (I'd hit him back--I was no pussy--but in retrospect I should have run and not fought at all) and my friends were telling me I had to get the fuck out.
Finally, after being approached by a group of my friends that I needed to bail (he smacked and screamed at me in front of a pair of them in their apartment), I finally pulled the trigger. I broke up with him, at which he laughed. Still not aware of what had been happening, he stated he'd be over to drop stuff off at my place. Sure, no problem.
The day came and he brought some furniture he had borrowed from my parents for him and his roommate. In that moment, after everything was where it belonged, he told me that he wanted to date <insert male friend of his roommate> and that <his roommate> "didn't work out". It hit me. Like a fucking train. I keeled over and vomited, and he left me there shocked and in horror at what I just discovered.
Of course I called my mom, I told her I couldn't handle this. I tried committing suicide I was so hurt and in ruin over it, but I couldn't do that to my mom so I aborted the mission. (Note: I had suffered from severe depression for many years at this point.) My mom came and I dumped everything that happened onto her. I wasn't able to function--only push myself through the final months of college just to graduate. She took care of me while I dedicated what sanity I had left to getting that degree.
I made it, graduating as a Computer Scientist with solid B's. I packed up everything and decided to spend some time at my parents' while I tried to figure out how to move forward (actually, this turned out to be a really good choice). After having one of my male friends come out to me as being wildly in love with me (in retrospect, I really should have given him a chance), I determined I wasn't able to work through this mental wall on my own. While I was still on a grandfathered health care plan through my dad, I decided to go to an in-patient behavioral hospital on the other side of the country. I found the best one, made some calls, and took off--only my family and a few friends knew. I closed every online account I had, but intentionally left a line of contact for that one friend who said he loved me and made sure he'd be able to get to me after he saw my online presence disappear.
I spent months in that hospital. They did amazing work. I came out as a different person. I was a better person, but I knew I still wasn't ready to date. I knew this, so I decided to coast.
I got a job, a new apartment, and spent a two years coasting and meeting new friends to make up for the ones who chose Buck over me. (I did force them to make the choice, and decided to respect whichever they chose. I couldn't have any ties remaining.) All my relationships were back offline (in some way or another) again.
I reopened some accounts for things I liked, some under an old moniker, some under new monikers. I returned to my hobbies and continued to work on personal development.
Finally, maybe a few months after I turned 25, did I finally feel comfortable dating again. So this year I've spent gauging possible dates and (if necessary) asking them out myself. At worst, I'm told no but still have a good friend. So far, that's all I've managed. The man from before ended up pinging my phone with an old joke of ours, and I've got him back in my life again. He's dating someone else now--I lost my chance--but to be honest I'm just super happy to be his friend again. My engaged and married friends keep introducing me to their single friends--nothing has worked out yet. I'm going back to church again, but it seems like with most Christian circles nobody makes it to my age without getting hitched first. I'm in the process of switching jobs--I might possibly meet someone there, but in Computer Science you meet a lot of exotic individuals who might not be the best material.
So I'm here, 25 and single. I'm frustrated that I'm not even so much as dating, and I realize that I'm running out of time to have my own kids.
Things That Made Me Finally Lose It (Bonus)
- Homosexual furry men wanting me to gay roleplays with them on Tumblr (WHY?!)
- Enjoying the /v/TraditionalHusbands and /v/TraditionalWives and /v/TraditionalMen subverses too much
- Getting a full blown sinus infection and being alone all day to my own thoughts and being unable to rely on anyone for help
- All my younger friends, as well as my younger sister being married, engaged, or even pregnant with their first child.
- Getting rejected by every guy on my list (sure, long shot, but I gave it a shot nonetheless)
- Getting PMs about how fucked I am at 25 while single (like, kiddo, you know I know this, yeah?)
- Coming to the realization that my 3rd wave feminist OB/GYN will make more than a pretty penny off me if I even try to have a biological child at this point
- Seeing all these modern kids without two parents or a stable home life
- Seeing all these women who know less about cooking, sewing, crafting, prototyping, cleaning, homekeeping, and make a fraction of my salary getting hitched where I can't even seem to get a date.
- Resuming my new job hunt and realizing this isn't really want to do for my whole damn life: coding in a cubicle 8 hours per day
Shit Where I Know I Could Improve
- Got more weight to lose
- Be more feminine--I'm a bit too much of my Irish sailor roots at times
- Be a better Christian, show more dedication in this area
- Determine where I'm willing to compromise and where I'm putting my foot down with potential dates
- Just keep truckin' along, shit will be fine, I'm just frustrated as hell