Nothing Left to Prove

When I was about 16 years old, I decided- in typical, stubborn, Lindsy fashion- that I was never going to go from my father's house to my husband's house. I was going to make a life for myself free from support of a man; I was going to prove I could do it all on my own. To this day I cannot identify the exact reason for this goal I set. Perhaps, in my reading and real-life experience, I had seen one to many girls/woman never spread their wings and prove they could live independently and therefore succumb to being under-the-thumb of a man. As I grew older, my steadfast belief that I couldn't be whole unless I lived life on my own as confirmed in many different ways.

I'm quite certain that this resolve has made me what I am today: the good and the bad. I'm fiercely independent and, for the most part, have kept men at arms length. After a couple of bad relationships in my late teens/early twenties, I think I decided that no man was worth the hassle. And yet I continued to long for romantic companionship. But that simply wouldn't do, not with my "all on my own" attitude.

Now, standing on the cusp of turning 34, I realize that I have nothing left to prove. I am successful, educated (three classes away from my BA), I own my own home and car. Yes, I have debt but I also am no longer living paycheck to paycheck. I have proven to myself (and to anyone else who matters) that I am 100% capable of supporting myself and living life on my own terms. This is not to say that I don't have areas to improve in- I do...plenty of them- but that I no longer need to be so fiercely independent. The hard-edged wit and sarcasm and die-hard feminist in me can calm down. I can disarm myself, throw down the shield and sword, lower the drawbridge. I'm not expecting that my knight will come galloping up on a white horse, but I'm willing to be open to the possibility.

And that is a huge step for me.