Sex and the Single Mom: The Final Chapter

I grew up perpetually single, never quite fitting into the boxes set aside for women in small-town Maine. In fact, I often sought to tear them down or stand beside them in opposition. Perhaps because I didn’t know a lot of happy, coupled women in my life or – more likely – because I didn’t know myself yet. When I moved to Westchester for college I thought this would all change. I was sure, after watching lots of episodes of Felicity, that the New York scene would provide unlimited new opportunities, especially with men. Come to find out, small liberal-arts colleges aren’t bustling with dating opportunities and I was still struggling to build a box that felt like home. 

I felt alienated from love, alienated from my body that I saw as unworthy of that love, and alienated from myself. This was the perfect breeding ground for an unhealthy relationship.

My first real boyfriend cemented all the negative ideas I had about myself, especially those about the way I looked. After a couple of years of on and off with him, I fell into the arms of a friend. I thought this friend was the answer to long awaited prayers. He made me, for a little while, feel worthy. Our love waxed and waned until I became pregnant at 24. This was a turning point. Either we were going to make it last forever – what I wanted – or not. Despite holding on too tight and for too long while compromising all the things I knew should never be negotiated in love; I couldn’t make it work.

This was a devastating blow because watching my own parents divorce at a young age, I’d promised my unborn children that I would never do that to them. I was sure I would make a different choice. That choice was harder than I’d imagined as a nine-year-old and it wasn’t made solely by me. As I watched my son grow, I wondered when and how I would talk to him about all the difficult choices I’d made and those I didn’t make. But I also, secretly, hoped that we’d be so happy he’d never ask me those tough questions. 

That happiness was elusive for many years. I sought it out in online dating apps, in exes, in men who were great on paper but not in real life, in a quickie marriage, and finally in myself. I took stock of what I was seeking in others: stability, worth, and contentment; and chose to work on giving those things to myself. Slowly, I began to embrace my body and what it had brought into this world. I learned to rely on my friends for the support I sought. Finally, I really thought about what I wanted in life and in a partner. 

I wanted to get married and grow old with someone smart, patient, and thoughtful who’d laugh at my jokes. I wanted a deep connection that was built on trust and growth. I wanted someone who would push me to be better while supporting me when I was just doing the best I could at the moment. I needed someone I’d be proud to have as a role model for my son, someone who would love him (almost) as much as I did. Listed like this, my “want ad” was overwhelming. I put it to the side for a bit and decided to tentatively get back into dating while still working on me. 

That’s when I found him: Mr. Nice Guy. 

He wasn’t the package I thought I was ordering. In fact, I was very wary of him at first. But, he turned out to be just what I needed: my “want ad” and more, full of things I didn’t even know were important until he showed them to me. 

Shortly after I fell in love with him, my son did too. This sealed the deal. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened – sometime before our second anniversary I think – but I looked over at Mr. Nice Guy reading with my son on the couch, our dog in between them, and I just knew this was the box I’d been searching for my entire life. This moment was built for me and it is where I would fit, forever. 

So, this is my last Sex and the Single Mom blog post. Not because I will ever stop writing, but instead because I know I will never be single again. I have found my Happily Ever After.