It's my fault really.
I had considered fasting from Facebook from the past Wednesday (Ash Wednesday) until Easter. But, just out of complacency and feeling crappy healthwise, I hadn't pulled myself away.
Certainly not one of the reasons I would make a point to fast from social media during Lent, but nonetheless, it would've been helpful to miss out on the deluge of Valentine's Day posts.
Pictures of couples, celebrating another monumental day together.
Pictures of babies dolled up in their Valentine's best.
Even pictures of heart-shaped pizzas and donuts. (Which doesn't help with my food deprivation either.)
Now, let it be known that even the few years I've had a 'Valentine', I've not been a big fan of the day. I'm one of those unconventional girls who would rather get a bunch of wild flowers on some random day than a dozen of red hot roses on the 14th, because the calendar (and Hallmark) advise you to. So, it's not (just) because I can be a litte jaded, being still single at 41. I just resent the whole day. I appreciate any kindnesses extended to me on Valentine's Day; it's just that it feels a little forced. And fabricated.
But, being as I am still single at 41... and still very much so would love to find someone I could share my life with... it's just another day to feel zeroed out. Marginalized.
It's not that I'm so disillusioned to believe that if I only had that one person, all would be well in my world. I understand that relationships are difficult. They take work. They challenge you. They break you. And that's even when everything goes right.
I also realize that life happens. Spouses can get sick. Children can become troubled. Jobs can get lost. Houses foreclosed. And then there are in-laws.
I get that.
It's just that the older I get, the more it feels like I'm just an onlooker while everyone else is doing life.
I've always said it's not so much the number (age) that you hit; it's where you are (or aren't) in your life, when you hit that number.
Up to 40, I always felt like I was missing out.
Post 40, I feel like I have missed out.
It's almost like everyone else my age is out there. They're doing life. Getting dirty. Sometimes getting knocked down. Busy. Tired. And from time to time, maybe even getting benched. But, they're out there. Together. Living. Learning. Cheering each other on. Together.
And the best I can do is watch and maybe cheer from the stands.
No longer on the field with the 20-somethings.
Yet not qualified to be on the field with the 40-somethings.
Not that Valentine's causes all these feelings. It just pronounces them. Pronounces that marginalization.
And I realize that all this only means I'm giving way too much power to a silly little Hallmark generated holiday. But, there it is. And it's my blog, so I can cry (and whine) if I want to.
Whatever. I blame the fact that I can't have chocolate. Or wine. Or ice cream. Or cake. Or any other comfort foods. You try facing this holiday, alone, on a strict hamburger and zucchini diet.
That's what I get for not fasting from Facebook.