All the single ladies

When I was a little girl, like many other little girls, I had dreams that were far and wide, as well as straight and narrow. I knew the social stigma's of living in the South, and I saw numerous females marry and have children before 25, I knew that was not the dream for me. Hyde County was an amazing place. Does it have high rise building, Wal-Marts, or McDonalds...no. It has heart. When you take the statement " Home is where the heart is" every person from Hyde County can identify. You start kindergarten with the same 25 faces, and at 18 years old on the Mattamuskeet High football field you wipe tears of joy and sadness and wave goodbye to the same 25 faces. I go back now, almost 9 years later, and things have still not changed. That place, those back roads, that lake, that football field and softball field, those ponds and cornfields, those 25 faces were all defining moments in my life.

These people made me who I am.

My sophmore year of high school, my brother was a freshman at NC State, and I can remember like it was yesterday, the first time I rode onto campus, and walked into Owen Hall to see my brothers dorm. The same dorm I traipsed in and out of as a freshman in college myself to visit those home town faces. Or that same year, when I went to Washington, DC during Mrs. Dunbar's English class. Something in that year changed me, and as much as I loved home, I wanted to be in the city, I wanted the culture, and most importantly, I wanted independence.

Not from my parents, not from rules. I wanted the independence to make my own decisions, make my own way, and most importantly make my own mistakes. To me, staying in Hyde County, or going back after college, just meant making other peoples mistakes, all over again.

Life is simple at home. There is no corporate rat race, there are no strangers, you never have to wonder if this person is trustworthy or not, you already know, you have always known.But here, each face is not these 25, strangers are truly strangers. Mistakes are your mistakes. Every single day you make your own choice as to what shoe to put on and what lane on HWY 40 to drive.

With all that being said, what I see as one my greatest opportunities...others may see as a great failure.

I am 26. And I am single.

Not only am I single, I refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies. Yes, I have been extremely picky in choosing the guys that I date, and whom I allow myself to get close with...but due to my own fears of commitment and my desire to make a name for myself before I take another's name have left me exactly where I want to be.

Chastise away, thats fine. If you want to think something is wrong with me because I damn sure do not need a man to hold my hand for all life's ventures, thats fine. If you want to judge me because I am 26, and completely single in the South, thats fine. I went to Meredith, I know plenty of females that lived out that same social stigma, with the perfect little house, the perfect little dog, the perfect little job, and the perfect clothes. I know some still married, I know some already divorced.

Why should I marry perfection, when imperfections are much more beautiful.

I'm not perfect. I wear nail polish until it chips; sometimes I hog the bed; I hate taking out the trash; I like to drink a glass of wine and watch tv alone; sometimes I play dress up with my own clothes; I do not like sharing the DVR, I leave my clothes on the bathroom floor, and forget to take out coffee filters. I would rather cook for one because the meals last me longer, I want a dog, but won't get one because I couldn't come and go as I please. I do not want to share my closet and like ALL my t-shirts. I have vacuuming. I like leaving the house and not telling someone where I'm going.Sometimes I poot profusely in the morning (tmi, get over it), or burp really loudly, or shove too much food in my mouth. I chew on my cheeks and bite my nails. I like going to my best friends house and staying till midnight, and nobody is calling asking where I am. I am TERRIFIED of being a mother.

To me, there is nothing wrong with these imperfections, because at the end of the day they make me perfect.

One day I may find Mr. Imperfect, I may never find him either. But I will not convince someone to love me, I will walk away, I'm not scared to be alone. If his parents hate me, I will walk away. If my parents hate him, then they see something I do not. If my friends hate him, then he is probably SOL. I will not try to convince other people we are perfect. If I can't be myself with him, when he finally does see the real me, he will hate me and think I have changed. If he is never himself, I will think he is crazy the days hes shows his true colors. If he is not my best friend, then why spend the rest of my life with a person that doesn't know my weakest links. If my heart doesn't do a little tap dance when I see him now, then what happens when he's old and wrinkly and we have had kids and the kids are out of the house and we haven't even liked each other in 30 years.

Images do not matter. Gusto does.

I'm not settling till I have gusto.

I refused to settle 10 years ago the day I knew there was a far bigger world than the beautiful cotton fields and intoxicating Hyde County air.

But just because I chose this life, do not think I am any less of a person.

Plus, haven't we all watched Sex and the City, and I don't see people hating Samantha.