Moving Forward.

My daydreams growing up never included meeting someone on the internet. My daydreams this morning never included meeting someone on the internet.

But it seems to be the only way to meet people. I mean, people stare at their phones so much of the time, how is a person ever expected to get someone’s attention without the internet? We go places with people we already know and when we don’t, we grab a phone and talk to people we already know who aren’t there.

So, the internet makes sense. But it feels weird.

I’m in a new town where I know few people and the holidays are coming up – which leads to a ton of loneliness. I’ve spent holidays alone before so it’s not completely new or a life-changing experience, but it still isn’t the most fun I’ve ever had.

So, I’ve had several friends mention online dating. Because I constantly talk about how guys never talk to me in public and it’s not chivalrous for a girl to start a conversation – though I do it more lately than my grandmother would prefer I admit.

I constantly weigh my options on how I feel about the entire online dating phenomenon. It’s obviously not even really considered a phenomenon anymore as simply a way of life. But I’m a little behind the curve here.

I’m admittedly the worst 20-something I know. I spend a lot of time staring at my phone, but it’s mostly because I’m painfully shy when I’m not drinking. I often just stare at it so it looks like I’m doing something. I like lyrics more than production, books more than television and my eight-cup coffee maker more than a Keurig. I’d rather bake than run and I’m okay with the few extra pounds I possess because of that.

Finding someone online doesn’t align with any of those things. It seems new and progressive and scary.

My parents were already married by the time they were my age. My grandparents certainly were; the majority of my extended family is married now – all within about five years of my age. They were at least engaged by this time in their lives.

Part of me is still busy throwing a pity party that I didn’t get that life – that mine chose a different path than theirs. That I’m not already married and thinking about kids and decorating a house and making dinners and in bed by 11 on Saturday nights for church on Sunday.

Don’t get me wrong – I love my life. I’m doing my best to make the most of where it is and what I have – and it’s all really, really wonderful. I feel strong and independent and secure in who I am – specifically the things I’ve done and choices I’ve made all on my own.

But I’m still kind of lonely sometimes.

So, how do I transition a pity party and slight acceptance into excitement and forward movement?

I guess giving it a try. Because I guess that’s part of life – trying scary things and seeing if they work. Maybe it doesn’t and I hate everything about the entire experience – but at least if I’m still single in ten years, I can’t say I didn’t do everything I possibly could to ensure the happiness I desire.

I suppose life is truthfully all about moving forward, even when it’s terrifying.


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