Spinster Tails

As the holidays rush to an end, we face the brightness of 2017, a new year.  Many of us have resolved to be healthier and more productive.  We are eager to slip into the “New You”—fit, wealthy, romantically attached, popular, and still zen.  And we all want that "unique" glow of being as expected, like others, but individual enough to attract attention.

This is too complicated.  What if I don’t want to be the 2017 model?  She looks great, but she's not me.  What if I don’t want the software update?! 

When people tell me how I should be, how happiness looks, and what I must sacrifice for it, I feel silenced.  No one asked my opinion of joy.  Rather, they catapulted me into their frenzy for perfection.  New Year’s Day becomes the Black Friday of self-revision.  We line up for whatever is being sold and trample each other to grab it without asking, “Do I even want this thing?”

This frenzy to be other than oneself reminds me of Disney’s The Little Mermaid.  Lessons: never relinquish your voice, keep your fish friends close, and never trust an octopus drag queen.  Ariel, the mermaid princess with the perfect pitch, sees and rescues dark-haired, tan Eric, a human prince and a solid guy.  Her only problem?  She's a fish, and he's a dish. 

Ariel is unmoved by this apparent difficulty.  She is willing to abandon everything--her people, identity, friends, family, trinkets cave, and the lower half of her body--to be with Eric.    In relinquishing all this, she sacrifices her self and cannot connect meaningfully with the man she loves.  She may give Ursula her voice in exchange for legs, but she reaches the shore as a shell of her self.  Eric admires this silent beauty and maybe loves her, but he longs for the singing Ariel, the one who rescued him from the sea.  Luckily for them, Ariel retrieves her voice and reunites with Eric.  Because it's Disney, it all works out, but in our lives, sacrificing one's identity rarely leads to a healthy relationship.  Maybe Eric would have followed Ariel's voice and reunited with her.  They could have had beach dates, met each others' friends and family, and avoided the whole Ursula drama entirely.  Maybe King Triton would have come around and granted Ariel legs anyway.   

In this blog, I highlight people who sing with their own voices.  They are introspective, courageous, and independent.  Like Ariel, they see what they want and know who they are, but unlike Ariel, they don’t sacrifice that identity to fit another’s plan for perfection. 

Beneath the ads and commercials screaming about the “newer and better you” this year, I hear the hum of people saying, “Welcome, 2017.  This year, I am enough.”  We already have what we need to be joyful.  We shine, and we won't trade ourselves for others' demand's.  If your gifts make you happy, practice them.  If it's lifting weights, growing kale, or reconstructing your kitchen, more power to you.  If it's the little things like baking great brownies, knowing when someone needs a kind word, or assisting the kick for the winning goal, do it.   Keep your fish tail and your voice; swim as you please.  You never know whose admiration you have earned by having the courage to be yourself.

Best wishes,
Super Spinster

Building Something New

Dedicated to Ben for Inspiring me to Share

Dear Friends,

I have good news.  For those who have followed my blog thus far, you know I’ve featured two remarkable women.  First was my sister who, at twenty-five, purchased a home on her own and was brave enough to take her older sister as a tenant.  Second was my friend Alison, a global connoisseur of human experience and proud Detroiter.  Comparing myself to these women seems absurd.  They’re the cool kids I always wanted to be.  But I’ve been told I should take credit where credit is due, so here it is.

Two of my greatest accomplishments of 2016 were passing the Michigan Bar Exam and, just this weekend, against all odds, putting together an end table by myself.

 

Yes! That’s right!  Two long-awaited dreams achieved!    

Had you told me last year that I, the book worm/English major, would before 2016 was out construct an end table on my own, I would have laughed at you.  I am not handy.  I read books about handy people.  I pay and praise them for their work.  But with the aid of elementary directions, I built this fine specimen of furniture.

Building that end table reminded me of the other things I built in 2016—a law school degree, a budding career as an attorney, new and stronger friendships, and a greater appreciation for the lunatics…, I mean, legal professionals.  With these materials, I constructed a new life.  There were the table legs that kept me upright—home-cooked meals, summer fields, my running shoes, and wine on decks with friends.  There was the table top I sawed and sanded and stained over hours of studying.  Then I had the screws that kept everything together—my family, my church, my collie, my friends.  Time tightened these joints and gave me confidence.  A few screws flew loose, but I never promised perfection.  At last, there was the drawer I slid into place holding all my hopes for the finished product.

While I put this life together, I wondered whether the result would collapse or stand.  When the pieces crumbled mid-construction, I wondered, "Who could pick up this mess?" Me, as it turned out.  My network of supporters, the people handing me the tools, believed in me, and when we were unsure we had a few drinks and tried again the next day.  After much patience and effort, what I’d hoped to build was before me, and the rest was memory.

When we examine our dreams, we see the ways they can fall apart before we see what can make them stand.  Our serve us part of the way, and God and our families, friends, and neighbors supply the rest.  There is hope for the finish and joy in the construction.  Whether we build a career, a home, a global network, or an end table, we are the agents of our success.  Let nothing stop us.  All that we need to reach the end is waiting for us. We just have to sit down and start!

Best wishes,

Super Spinster

Celebrating Life's Achievements

I have a contribution to make.  I am not just taking up space in this life.  I can add something to the lives I touch. –Lauren Bacall

Dear Friends,

Each day is cause for celebration.  Think of your typical day: how much do you accomplish?  You do the laundry, go to work, cook, volunteer, or make someone’s day brighter.  These are small steps to greater things, like getting into college, being promoted, building something new, fixing something old, or opening a business.  What time and effort these took.  You poured yourself into these goals, and you met them.  Surely, this is cause for celebration! 

But when you surf the web or turn on the TV, what celebrations do you see?  Weddings, wedding anniversaries, bridal showers, first dates, engagements, and baby showers.  When it comes to celebratory gifts, ladies, don’t even think of buying yourself those diamonds: only he can go to Jared's. 

The matrimony industry makes billions on these clichés, yet they appeal to only half of society.  If you are unmarried, widowed, or divorced, or if you have no children, you, according to our culture, are exempt from celebration.  No one needs to throw you a party.  You have to find (and keep) a spouse first.  Oh, and have a few kids while you’re at it.  Yeah, you’ll get a birthday card for all the

work you did in being born, but that’s it.

These cultural gaps are missed opportunities.  Who doesn’t want more parties?  Why aren’t we honoring life’s other accomplishments?  Perhaps we don’t know where to start, or we’re too shy of asking others to celebrate us.  We don’t want to appear arrogant, but is asking to be seen conceited?

Recently, my twenty-five-year-old sister, Rachel, bought herself a house.  She wisely invested, got a mortgage, and took the plunge.  She did this sans husband, fiancé, or boyfriend.  Despite the cultural stigmas pressing against her, Rachel achieved the American dream on her own.

Thinking as I do, I had to celebrate this, so I threw Rachel a housewarming party.  After sending the invitations (evite.com was free), Rachel and I decorated the house (Halloween lights and pumpkins, leaf garland, and chrysanthemums).  My parents brought the libations, and we asked guests to bring appetizers to share.  Although the house is not yet fully furnished, we had card tables and coasters, and the food everyone brought was delicious.  For four hours, we laughed, wandered the house, drank, and were merry.  We celebrated Rachel’s dream of a happy, single life in her new home.

My sister’s housewarming is one example of how we can celebrate single people’s lives.  We must start by reaching out to our loved ones and doing something to honor them.  Whether they open a business, run a marathon, or buy a new home, the people in our lives deserve acknowledgment.  You can do this in many ways.  Throw them a party, take them out for a celebratory meal, join them in their favorite activity, or just send them a card.  It doesn't take much to make others feel special.

If we show people their successes merit attention, we encourage them to live to their potential.  All of us, including those in romantic relationships or with children, deserve acknowledgement for meeting our goals.  We're all getting up each day, trying to be our best selves.  Surely, our world can only benefit from a few more celebrations.

Best wishes,

Super Spinster

 

Spinster Spotlight--Living Sola in Detroit

Dear friends,

For those unfamiliar with Detroit, you may be shocked to learn of a woman living single and alone within its borders.  As you may know, the once thriving Arsenal of Democracy and Motor City has seen hard times.  Its ghettos and Cass Corridor, the once gaping wound of pocked concrete connecting downtown and midtown, were known for decades of drugs and violence.  By night, the city teemed with guns and gang shootings.  By day, the streets lay empty, the businesses shuttered, the sidewalks littered with the broken glass of crushed car windows.  Only recently has the city reawakened the world to its many possibilities.  Before it became cool to tour Detroit, few saw it for its potential, and even fewer dared live there during its growing pains.

I am fortunate to know one of those brave souls.  Please meet my friend and mentor Alison.  Alison is an under-thirty professional woman living alone in the heart of Detroit.  She has lived there since 2009.  Back then, a Detroit address implied poverty or lunacy.  Perhaps, to some, it still does.  But not to Alison.

Alison is one of those people who finds friends and adventures easily.  She knows the best late-night, early-morning, Sunday-brunch locales.  She finds magical concerts hidden behind scary, ghetto-like facades.  She bought a foreclosed condo with her own hard-earned cash back when people scorned the Detroit scene.

And she did all of this, for the most part, on her own.

One Sunday, over a bowl of mac and cheese in Detroit's burgeoning Midtown, along the very same Cass Corridor, Alison and I met for lunch.  I parked my car (doors locked, windows up, nothing in the back seat, as she taught me) on the street.   We sat at the window bar.  I asked Alison if she minded.  "Minded what?" she asked.  "Being on your own.  You're always doing things sola.  Don't you ever wish you could do things as a couple like everyone else?"  Alison pondered that for a minute.  I thought she would answer "yes."  Not only does she live alone, she travels the world alone, visiting far-flung places and camping out at rock concerts in Scotland and California.  I thought she would admit to finding that lonely.

"No," she said. "I'm used to it.  I studied abroad alone in college, so I learned to make friends wherever I went.  Anyway, I live in the moment and don't worry about how else something could be."

Alison during her Month Working at the Hague's
International Criminal Court in the Netherlands

For someone, like me, who lives either ten minutes ago or two hours from now, this is a hard concept.  I have long admired Alison's ability to be perfectly present.

"But," she continued, "I guess it would be nice to share those things with someone."  That thought doesn't last long.  "Still, I can usually find a friend to go with me if I want one.  And I like my alone time.  It helps me reenergize.  All that living in the moment can be tiring."

Alison does a lot of living in the moment.  She does Team in Training, an organization of runners who raise money to fight cancer.  She and her team have raised thousands of dollars for the cause.  To keep in decent running shape, she rides around town, too.  Just last weekend, she participated in Tour de Troit, biking twenty-five miles around the rainy city with other diehard Detroiters.  By weekday, she's a practicing attorney and a certified public accountant.  And when not working or working out, she's out with friends, listening to music, enjoying craft beer, and plotting her next adventure.  If she ever feels a sliver of loneliness, she quickly pulls it out and fills her mind with other things.

Alison Biking at Tour de Troit in Detroit

"That's the problem with too many spinsters," Alison said.  "They can't get out of their owns heads.  When that happens to me, I just get out there and do something!"

As the most well-adjusted spinster I know, Alison makes it look easy.  And, honestly, for her, it is because she does what makes her happy.

This happiness must come of wisdom, so I ask her my most important question.  "Alison, if you could send a public service announcement to all spinsters, what would you say?"

By now, the macaroni and cheese is gone.  We're just sitting at the window bar, looking at the people cruising along Cass, more cars and pedestrians than the city has seen in years.  It's a Sunday afternoon, and the sun shines on the gentle bustle of one of Detroit's most famous streets.

She turns to me with a smile, "I would tell them they're not alone.  I would tell them to get out there and do what they enjoy.  I would tell them there are many ways to be happy."

I can't help but smile, too, because she's honestly and compassionately serious.  Many people would say the same with a hint of sorrow or anger or pretention.  Not Alison.  She has no time for falsity.  It just ruins what would otherwise be a good time.

"So, how would you describe a spinster then?"

Alison takes a deep breath and smiles as she lets it out.  "She's independent.  She lives in the moment.  And she's happy.  That's it."

Floored by this succinct definition, I stare out the window for the minute.  Is that all we are?  Could I say that honestly about myself?  Then I realize that "spinsters", according to Alison, are not who we are but whom we aspire to be.  Independent, present, happy.  Our best, most joyous selves.

Alison, unconcerned with the game-changing definition she just supplied me, moves onto other subjects--her friend's wedding in Bulgaria (she discusses this without any self-pity or envy), a November trip to Iceland for a music festival, and singlehandedly fixing the front door handle to her condo building.

"I just found another handle that looked the same.  There was one in the gym.  The gym has two doors anyway, so I thought no one would mind if I took one of the handles.  After all, the front door is more important than double-door access to the gym.  I just got my toolbox and swapped the two.  Now the front door works!"

Thoroughly impressed by this ingenuity, as I always am with Alison, I just laugh and shake my head.  She would accomplish that singlehandedly, keeping everyone a bit safer by her independent cleverness.

"On that note," I respond, swiveling my bar stool around and picking up my purse, "let's be off.  The movie starts in an hour or so.  By the way, do you think my car is safe where I parked it?"

Alison in Washington D.C.

"Oh, yeah.  You parked it on Cass, so it's totally fine.  Coffee before movie?"  She smiles and leads the way.

And, following her out onto a sunny Detroit street, I believe her and agree.

Best wishes,
The Super Spinster

Rapunzel Breaks out of the Tower

Dear Friends,

Spinsters weave the threads of their own destinies.  That even includes the threads on their heads--their hair!  Recently, my sister Rachel cut off nine inches of her Rapunzel-like hair to donate to charity.  She now has a short, shiny blond bob, and she loves it.


Rachel Rapunzel

The best part about Rachel's new look is that she chose it, no one else's input required.  Too many men and women feel pressure to dress and behave according to a partner's desires.  I have heard comments like these: "Yeah, your hair looks great, but I just loved it long."  "Your beard is okay, but I prefer you clean shaven."  "Won't you consider a wax?  I'd be happy to pay for it."  These are far from generous compliments.  These are molding statements.  They are attempts by one partner to mold the other partner into his or her ideal.  When did we become more wax and clay than human?  Forget these molds: partners should love each other for who they are.  Although encouraging one another to remain healthy and happy is fine, bullying each other, even passive aggressively, to fit an ideal is not.

Even more disturbing than the molds partners try to pour us into is our willingness to squeeze into them.  And who can blame us?  We all want to be liked.  We want to be attractive.  But isn't "healthy and happy" attractive enough?  A smiling person is sure to be liked.  We are drawn to joyful people.  Whether it is because we want to find out what is making them so happy (get me some of that!) or because their joy inspires that feeling in us, we gravitate toward people comfortable in their own skins. 

My sister's happiness in her new haircut is solely self-derived.  She decided to cut her locks, she decided to donate her hair, and she is happy because of it.  And that has made everyone around her a little more joyful, too.



Rachel Revised

Cheers,
Super Spinster

Introductions--Start Having Fun!

Dear Friends,

Hi, everyone.  My name is L--.  ("Hiiii....L--.")  I am 28 years old, I work in the legal field, I live with my sister, and I am a spinster.  (Gasp!)  Yes, friends.  You heard me.  I am a woman "without a man."  And I am here to say that I LOVE my life!

Is that so surprising?  After years of feeling like cultural coupledom had exiled me to the backwaters of society, I have had ENOUGH.  I have decided to STOP feeling sorry for myself and start having FUN again.  Remember that?  Fun?  It was a staple of childhood--what we were best at.  We all had fun regardless of and even in spite of adult and cultural approval.  We just did it because it was great!  For example, I used to love running away into the woods, just me and my collie dog.  We would roam around for hours discovering trees and hiding places, streams, and flowers.  We would visit the horses up in the field and slip down toward the lake for a swim.  I needed no one and wanted no one.  It was more fun to explore my way and at my pace!  When did that become so terrible? 

As we all grew older, we encountered the pressures to "pair up."  Before the heralding of hormones, we paired up with our friends.  We played video games, built tree forts, made up games (like yoga ball soccer--awesome), and shared adventures.  No girl could go to the bathroom by herself.  No boy could shoot hoops alone.  Romance was taboo.  Beauty impeded the joy of dirt.  Inhibitions ruined every truth or dare.

But those years ended and brought new challenges.  Teenagedom saw the sparks of attraction between former pals, and new eye candy unraveled itself along our school hallways and through our well-worn playgrounds.  Suddenly, romance was in the air, and it was great!  You cannot deny it was fun (sometimes), and it still is (with the right person).  But it is not the only way to enjoy life.

Our society has granted romantic couples a monopoly on fun.  No more can you sit alone in a café, sipping some sinfully sweet drink, reading a book, and watching the cars roll by.  A night at home alone with a glass of wine and the entire Star Wars trilogy or Sex & the City series is pitiable.  Vacations alone are a sin!  And girls' or guys' nights out are relegated to a stand-in for the more desirable date night.  Rolling alone or rolling with one's friends is not "fun" anymore.

We know this is not "fun" because TV, social media, and our community says it is not.  Hollywood writes about single people only to give them a romantically happy ending.  Girls' nights out lead to at least one lucky lady catching the eye of her soul mate at the bar.  Guys' nights out, those joyful binges of beer and sports and chat, are merely a prelude to marriage, children, and responsibility.  Movie scripts interrupt any single person reading in a café with some handsome stranger wanting attention (wait, let me finish this chapter...).  Our community pities that older lady who sits alone at the bar, her glass of wine full and her meal before her, watching the college basketball game of her alma mater.  We only celebrate engagements, marriages, and babies.  They are the products of romance, of cultural coupledom, and the end of singledom.

Well, not this blog!  I say that being a bachelor or a spinster is a cherished time in our lives.  Single people direct their own destinies, and in doing so, learn much about themselves and others.  They are resourceful, independent, giving, adventurous, and smart.  Society need not pity them, and neither do I.  With so much of the world to see and experience, spinsters and bachelors are poised to reach for their goals and achieve them.  And they have such FUN along the way!

To show how much fun spinsterhood can be ("spinsterhood"--the life of a single person), I created this blog.  It will feature how the spinsters I know and admire make the most of their lives.  It will showcase famous, world-rocking spinsters, and it will highlight the humble, everyday spinsters who live it up in their own ways.  Of the many activities spinsters enjoy, some are high energy and some are simple pleasures.  The activities are catered to the spinster's sense of fun, whatever that is.  No judgment here.

I hope, dear friends, this blog inspires you to have more fun.  Whether alone, with friends, family, your community, or serendipitous strangers, please share your adventures and comments.  Together we can build a society that celebrates everyone for the value they bring by being their best, most fun-loving selves.

Cheers,
Super Spinster