As I get closer to four years post-divorce, people keep asking why I am still single. Baby, because I am good on the disappointment. I am not lonely enough to entertain confusion, lower my standards, or make room for somebody who brings nothing but disruption. I fought too damn hard for my peace to slide it across the table just because folks think a woman is supposed to have a man by now. I am not auditioning for companionship, and I am sure as hell not settling just to say I have somebody.
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Oh, let’s talk about these men who keep spinning the block as if I forgot what they offered the first time. They do not come back with accountability, growth, consistency, or a real plan. They come back hoping time has softened my boundaries and made me easier to access.
They want sex
without substance, attention without intention, and all the benefits of being
close to me without doing a damn thing to stand beside me. Then they call it “checking
in on me” when the truth is they are looking for sex. I am not budging. Fuck
that.
Being selective is not only about protecting my heart.
It is also about protecting the life I already carry every damn day as a
working mother after divorce.
I work full time. I take care of my kids full time. I manage the bills. The apartment. The schedules. The school calls. The emergencies. The decisions. Also, I handle up on all the invisible shit nobody sees. Let me be clear with some of y’all.
I am not wearing motherhood like some damn badge,
because I am divorced. I was a single mother while married and was blinded by codependency.
I am doing this shit, because my children need me. Plus, on top of that there
is nobody waiting in the wings to tap in when I am running on empty. I do not get
scheduled breaks. I do not have a fucking tribe I can reliably call when I need
an hour to breathe, sleep, think, or solely be a woman instead of everybody’s
lifeline.
When I need to be freed for a minute, I have to dip
into my PTO. Yes, the time I earned for rest, sickness, or an actual vacation.
I have to use that PTO to create space that other people get from family,
friends, or a dependable coparent. That is not a flex. It is not superwoman
speech. It is exhausting as hell. Being capable does not mean I do not need
support. Being strong does not mean I should welcome another grown-ass person
who only gives me more weight to carry.
Therefore, the last thing I want is a “wet ass”
from a man I cannot call when shit goes left. What the fuck is the point of
having access to my body if you have no capacity to show up for my life? I do
not need late-night texts. The grand rising text messages on random days, or
temporary comfort from somebody who becomes unavailable the moment I need real
help. I need substance. I desire reliability. I would like a man whose presence
makes life steadier and not another situation I have to manage.
To the woman who keeps giving her body to a man she already knows is not worth the aftermath, hear me when I say you do not have to keep accepting crumbs just because you are ravening for love. Sex will not turn inconsistency into commitment.
Being a hopeless romantic does not mean you have
to be hopeless about the damn truth. You can want love deeply and still walk
away from what drains you. So do not be out here calling bare-minimum attention
a connection. Stop trying to love potential into becoming a partner. Your body,
time, and softness deserve more than a man who only shows up when it benefits
him.
Being single after divorce is not the same as
being closed to love.
Overall, I am still open to dating. I am still open to love. Not cohabitating, but have partnership, and building something that can thrive. Only with a man who has a solid plan for his own life and a clear intention for ours.
I work in education, especially in the classroom. I make decisions all
damn day. By the time I get home, the last thing I need is another grown man
standing there asking me to think for him too. I want somebody who can lead
beside me. A man who can choose to communicate clearly, make sound decisions,
and bring solutions instead of becoming another problem on my list.
So yes, I am using my discernment. If that makes me difficult, guarded, or “too independent,” so the fuck be it. I am not bitter; I am paying attention. I am not asking for perfection, but I am done accepting half-assed effort from men who want full access while offering no real support.
Until somebody comes with honesty, consistency, intention, and
the kind of presence that holds up when life gets heavy, I will keep choosing
myself, my children, and the peace we have built. I would rather sleep alone in
peace than wake up beside another disappointment. Being single is not the
punishment. Abandoning myself just to keep a man would be. I am never doing
that shit again.
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