Sweet Isolation

I’m alone in my life.  In a way, I’ve always been alone.  I lived my childhood in a home of eight people scrunched into a corner of the house to hide and be by myself.  In my young adulthood I was presenting myself in a shaky way where I always looking over my shoulder, although I was bolder than I am now.  Now, I’m still unsure but definitely much quieter and less bold.  And I’m tired of looking over my shoulder.

I’m without children due to a series of miscarriages attributed to uterine fibroids that were removed upon their discovery late in my 30’s.  I was assured when they were removed that I could then have children but I wasn’t in a relationship then and, being that I had just became a Christian, I wanted to be married first anyway.

I’m presently without a husband as the men I chose in the past were unhealthy enough to match the lack of health in me.  When I became a Christian I knew I had to change so much in order to be ready for a Christian husband.  I’ve had enough relational maladjustment, though, that I found myself wishing for isolation instead of the possibility of another abusive man disrupting what little peace I have in my life.  I’ve actively run off and discouraged every suitor as of late.  Mind you, it’s a small town and they’re either the undesirable leftovers or divorced men who seemingly and erroneously thought that the solution to their loneliness was to sleep with half the town and now no one wants them.

So, I’m alone.  And I’m really okay with it for the most part.  I like being alone –  a quiet home, being decorated in a manner that expresses my true personality, meals with passed-down-to-me china that I’ve begun to use daily of late ( I love chinaware, I’m not exactly inviting guests, and I know most people don’t love it as much as I do anyway so I’m just going ahead and using it), open to changing myself and life as it needs to be at this time.

I think what I’d like is to be self-isolated and have only a few people that I can occasionally associate with on a very surface level, just a few people I’m on a friendly basis with to wave at in town.  I would want even them, if ever asked, to admit that they really don’t know that much about me.

I would also want the only person I would ever open up with would be a man if he were to be a husband.  And only that.  I’m not interested in a boyfriend.  And I don’t know what that would really look like or if it’s even possible given my quiet lifestyle, so I find myself not even caring about that.

I’ve had spits and spots here and there where I’ve wanted to meet a few women in town for a light friendship.  I found two, one that I’m withdrawing from right now.  The one I’m withdrawing from is a gossiper and has anger issues, recently being fired for it at her workplace and was slightly directed to me the other day for no good reason.  I’m learning to exercise boundaries. I was already on guard with her so it’s no real loss.  The other one has a sunshiny disposition but we have very little in common, which is great for an enjoyable surface relationship.

I’ve also recently decided to volunteer for the local art counsel so I could meet the local artists.  This also will be on a friendly but surface level.

So, is all this self-isolation healthy?  Not for others, surely.  But for me, yes.  It’s getting rid of the anxiety-producing ‘shoulds’ that I can’t rise up to meet anyway.  For the first time in my life I’m recognizing that I’m broken enough to want to be left alone and healthy enough to give myself that if that’s what I need without expecting more from myself to be ‘normal’.  I’m not physically well enough to try to keep up with others anyway without becoming one of those people always bringing up their symptoms (for me out of a needless sense of apology as to why I can’t do this or that), which is tiresome.

I’m writing this in the late morning of a rainy day.  I’m cozy inside with my cat sleeping beside me while I write.  I’ll be making myself a quiet lunch soon.  There are no eyes on me to criticize me for not producing in a day what I could when I was well, and that was mostly out of anxiety anyway.

No one is expecting me anywhere today and I am free to be in my own thoughts and to apply my hands to whatever brings strength, comfort, or peace to my life.  Today is nice, soft day.