I am stuck in this place of wanting to be single for the rest of my life (or at least until my kids are out of high school), and wanting to find my person to grow old with; but dating sucks, especially in this sea of Republicans where I live. Dating apps are the worst, but how else are you supposed to meet people?

I’m 45 years old. I’m in bed by 9pm on school nights, and 11pm on weekends. I’d rather smoke weed than go out bar hopping. I definitely do not want to do shots or have hangovers. I’d rather spend my evening browsing a bookstore than go to a crowded bar & listen to a mediocre band. Smoke weed with me, and talk about string theory; or just get stoned and have a friendly debate about which Star Wars movie is the best. Let’s play Scrabble, and see who can get away with making up words, while Doctor Who plays in the background. Go walk the beach with me, while we look for dolphins and sea turtle nests.

WHERE ARE THOSE PEOPLE?

I probably have to leave my house to meet those people, and I really love staying home. Home is comfy, and I don’t have to mask my anxiety or depression or fibro. Home has my books, my soft blankets, and my snacks. And my king size bed that’s perfect for the dogs and me. And I can watch whatever I want on the TV…

It’s fucking nice to be able to have the TV and snacks all to myself. After the kids are in bed if I wanna watch Forensic Files, while I smoke a bowl, and eat vegan ice cream straight out of the container, I CAN and there’s no one to say shit about it. Wanna watch Twilight for the 23,457 time? There’s no one to argue with me.

Maybe I don’t wanna partner again. I don’t want to lose myself again, just when I’m finding myself again. I don’t want to censor myself again, out of fear of losing someone who doesn’t deserve me in the first place. I know that there are those unicorns exist, the partners who don’t require me to morph into something that I’m not; but it’s been so long since I’ve had that kind of partner (and really, I’m not sure that I’ve ever had that type of partner), and I’m really just now becoming myself again.

While I was with Preston, any hobby that I developed he shit on it. Photography, writing, jewelry making, crocheting, he shit on all of them and eventually I just stopped trying to have a creative hobby. I’m finding my hobbies again, and I don’t want to give them up or let a partner get close enough to shit on them. I’m doing my embroidery hoop art sporadically. I’m writing again, and I want to develop a series of essays about my life, recovering from abuse, deconstructing, and parenting. I want to fill my walls with photos that I take, plants that I grow, and books that I enjoy.

I want a partner who will stand alongside me, and encourage me. When I say out that I don’t have the time to write, I want a partner who will say “How can I help you make the time?” When I don’t have the bandwidth to figure out supper at the end of the day, I want a partner who will make buttered noodles, and add the toppings that I like on mine. When I’m at the end of my rope with managing kids’ mental health needs and my mental health needs, I want a partner who will hug me and send me to my room with a cup of tea so that I can decompress. I want a partner who will remember my birthday and make it special (and I mean special to me, not like “plans an expensive getaway or buys me a car” special).

If those unicorns exist in the wild, and they’re single, please point me to them.