Why I’m not waiting for Mr. Right

Ripped from the Headlines
Yesterday I phoned TD Visa because I had made a payment that hadn’t gone through. The customer service rep asked how my Easter was. I told her we went out for brunch. She assumed with husband so I said I’m single. Oh waiting for Mr. Right? Um, uh…I’ll take a pass on that question. And then we’re laughing so hard she forgets what I called for.
My grandparents had the type of relationship that everyone should aspire to. They were partners 50/50 (although grandpa used to say it was more 60/40 in her favour). Growing up I didn’t see very many relationships like that.
Waiting for Mr. Right is such a weird term. I’m quite cabable of taking care of myself and have since I had to make dinner when Mom had a kidney transplant when I was 13. I have money in the bank to support myself. I don’t have to ask a man if it’s alright if I buy this. I can treat myself to a manicure without someone saying “can you afford that?”
I had friends that prayed that a man would come into my life after Janet died because they didn’t want me to be alone. But it wouldn’t have been fair to that person. I used to tell people that I had to work on myself before I could think about being able to give anything to someone else. I used to think it was some psychobabble when Oprah said it but it’s true. People don’t realize that grief is work and it’s forever.
I’ve looked after a lot of people in my life and I guess selfishly I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to look after myself. Do things that I enjoy.

(As a side note this isn’t man bashing…it’s just MY point of view)


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