Sara Eckel Quotes

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We all want to feel needed, and we also want to be with people who can manage on their own, if needbe.

Now when I remember the woman I was - heaving herself off the couch to go on another Internet date, taking a deep breath before walking into the party where she'd see her ex and his new girlfriend - I don't feel a trace of contempt or embarrassment. I have a funny admiration for the girl who kept taking her licks and got back up again. That was me. Doing my best. Which, of course, is all any of us can do.

I have no problem with being fabulous. My problem comes when you won't allow yourself to be an ordinary woman with a decent apartment and an okay job. When only the mom is allowed to be boring - because her life is so rich with meaning.

When I carefully choreographed the story of how amazing I was, I was acting like one of those helicopter parents - you know, the ones who refuse to admit that their Jackson might suck at math or Stella might not be the world's greatest violinist. 'You are special! You are special!' they cry to their children, hoping this will boost their confidence. But the real message is one of panic: You must be special. Ordinary is not okay. When I walked into a party projecting the Shiny Girl - she of the lighthearted flings and glitzy job - I was essentially doing the same thing.

Reminding me again and again and again that longing was not desperation and loneliness was not failure. And that, ironically, the less I tried to manipulate my inner experience, the more peaceful and content I felt.

If you feel sad sometimes, it's not because you're single--it's because you're alive.

The Family and Medical Leave Act, for example, only entitles spouses, grown children, and parents to take time off to care for a sick loved one. If a childless single person falls ill, only her parents have the legal right to take off work to care for her. If they're deceased or not up to the task, she's out of luck. Even if she has a sister, niece, or best friend willing to take a leave, they won't be legally entitled to do so. No one has the right to care for her.

Dating is an act of outrageous vulnerability. You're leaving the comfort of your home and your friends to subject yourself to the scrutiny of strangers. You're sliding into that restaurant booth, plopping your laptop and gym bag on the floor, and saying, 'Hi, I'm Sara. Let's see if we can start a life together, shall we?'

It doesn't get more optimistic than that.

Let's take another look at that awful word 'desperate.' As Stephanie Coontz points out, the fact that we throw this label on women who have refrained from marrying is absurd. 'It's understandable that many women are anxious about the prospect of finding a good husband,' Coontz wrote in Marriage, a History. 'But few modern women are actually desperate to marry. Historically, desperate is agreeing to marry a much older man whom you find physically repulsive. Desperate is closing your eyes to prostitutes and mistresses and praying you don't get a venereal disease. Desperate is having child after child because your husband won't let you use birth control or covering the bruises you got last night when you hurry to the market to shop for the evening meal. Women today may be anxious about finding a mate, but most could not even imagine being that desperate.'

You didn't rush back to that mediocre relationship. You didn't grit your teeth and enter some passionless union with a perfectly nice guy who doesn't get you. There are people who are afraid to be alone, who head for the nearest warm body after each breakup, or who stay in miserable relationships because the alternative is so terrifying. But that's not you, is it?

I have friends who are still looking, friends who are married, and friends who are divorced. The difference, I've come to see, is largely due to chance, rather than character. Because after all those years of self-doubt, my late-marrying friends and I found men who love us even though we're still cranky and neurotic, even though we still haven't got our careers together, even though we sometimes talk too loud or drink too much or swear at the TV when the news is on. We have gray hairs and unfashionable clothes and bad attitudes. They love us anyway.

What's wrong with me? What's wrong with any of us? If we're honest, the answer probably is 'plenty.' But that's not the point.

No one ever asks "Why are you married?" even though the question is just as valid as "Why are you single?" After all, people marry for many reasons other than pure love--fear of being alone, a desire for biological children, economic security, social status, health insurance.

The people in your life either understand where you are coming from or they don't. It's not your job to convince them that you're happy or a legitimate adult. It's also not your job to determine whether another's perceived self-satisfaction is born of genuine contentment or insecurity. Your job is to take care of yourself so you can meet others where they are.

When you're experiencing that year-in, year-out challenge of being on your own, it's easy to ask the question "What does everyone else know that I don't?" I suggest you flip that around.

Here's a thought: Maybe you've remained single well into adulthood because...you know what you're doing. Because there is something right with you.

Human beings are not houses - you don't walk in and say, 'Well, so long as we gut the kitchen and add a third bathroom, this could work,' or, 'It has no charm, but it's close to work and it's all I can afford.' No. You love them as they are, or you let them find someone else who does.