“She doesn’t pump?”
“Never”
“She doesn’t care where she’s at, she’ll pull that titty out in an instant”
“I know a girl who will pull over three times before going to the grocery store”
The table gasps.
I laugh in awe.
Random men in my apartment. Drunk couples fighting. A night full of secrets that aren’t revealed til months later. All of those are examples of the 4th of July’s of my past. But this year I sit at a table with my closest friends as they discussed the trials and tribulations of breast-feeding. My girlfriend, known for her legendary 4th of July parties just had a baby. My other girlfriend, known for her appetite of sexy men and fine wine, is three months pregnant. Another girlfriend, now in a serious relationship listens with a smile while holding her boyfriends hand excited for the day when she would no longer be a breast-feeding spectator and have her own stories to share. There I was, fascinated by the information, intrigued by my friends’ new lives but lost because I couldn’t relate. As one of the few people single and or without children, I find myself often stuck between a pending adulthood and a free spirited youth.
During breast pumps, lactating, and baby bonding, across the lawn were a group of young 20 year olds in the Jacuzzi drinking and having the time of their lives. The majority of them actor and actresses hopefuls with washboard stomachs and perfect biceps, I look at them wondering would I fit more over there? And then I remembered my 20’s and realized I was farther away from that Jacuzzi then I was from learning how to latch on. I sat far from the insecurity and constant approval of my 20’s but not in the same place of my friends dealing with motherhood and wondering how to make your husband wear his wedding ring. In some ways I could easily fit into both worlds, but neither would I find home.
It seems in so many ways, 2010 has been about reinventing myself. Figuring out who exactly I am as my own. Not the fierce participant of a group of best friends and not someone’s girlfriend. Who I am independently from all of the factors that once thoroughly defined what I was doing and where I was going? As much as I found myself strongly independent and confident, it’s only now that I truly understand what independence really means.
As I sit somewhere between breast feeding and bikinis I’m realizing that being single doesn’t have to be considered the pause button before you get married. It’s a legitimate stage of life that has just as much relevance as being married or motherhood. My life is constantly moving and evolving more ways this year then years of my past and I wouldn’t have been able to shift it wasn’t currently all about me.
So I lean back in my chair with the laughter and clanking beer bottles behind me and the understanding of motherhood somewhere ahead. I take a sip of my sangria and thank god for the experience and wisdom of my past and thankful for all of my future. I move around feeling the cracks, the possible splinters and finally find that place we all seek… comfort.
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