Single in Quarantine
I swear I didn’t think this would be me.
We were flourishing back in April. Hosting private BBQs for two. Budgeting better since we weren’t eating out and shopping for new outfits for dates . Truly discovering that the best things in life are really free. I was beginning to clearly see myself ugly crying on Instagram with my new modest engagement ring. I secretly had five rings stored in my phone with no idea on how to pitch them to him. Then out of nowhere, Christmas began to approach.
We scheduled time to search for jewelry in the Diamond District. My goal was to measure my guy’s ring finger size, point out a few beautiful necklaces that would be my Christmas present, and also put some antique ring styles on his brain. Here’s the reality of the situation. It was too much jewelry up and down those crowded ass streets. The blur of all those Jesus pieces still gives me anxiety! And the worst part. When I finally got my bearings together, as we settled into one clustered ass store, my dude wanted nothing to do with the engagement ring section. All that work and stress on my eyes for nothin’. I didn’t even rest long enough to recognize the red flag. He wasn’t ready to look at engagement rings because he wasn’t ready to get married.
Now let’s talk about Christmas Day. It had been so long that I was able to style my hair and put on some real clothes. So I’ll admit that I was one of those chicks that shows up to the cook-out way over dressed. So what! I wanted to show out for my future husband, and give my black tights a much needed break. I felt judged by the entire apartment complex because of my attire. “Who she think she is showin’ up in a leopard print maxi skirt?” A WIFE, that’s who! And I seriously tried to dress it down by throwing on an N.W.A graphic tee.
But as the day turned to night, it became apparent that the only person in sight that saw me as a wife was myself. So I’m sitting at the dinner table, trying hard not to soil my cute ass outfit, when I hear the question “when are you going to have a baby?''. This coming from my favorite member of my partner’s family. I was crushed to silence. Is that all I’m seen as? A baby maker? I hate that marriages have become so rare in my community. The census showed that in 2010, only 30% of Black women were married. The numbers have to have gone up since then, right? Nahhh, we’ve fallen about 8%. So now I’m trippin’ out like, ‘Well damn. Am I asking for too much?’. The Virgo in me came up with my answer within ten minutes. Marriage is never asking too much. It’s simply asking the right partner. And with a family that values pregnancy over the union of marriage, it’s not going to be that effortless.
But I refuse to let these limitations stop me from connecting with my future husband. So my new prayer is to work on being more of a wife for the husband I’m expecting. I won’t let the negativity of these dwarfish statistics deter me from being the blessing I know I will be my partner. So single in quarantine is what it is for right now. I’m spending this isolated time working on me and my intentions for the future. He’s on his way, I can just feel it. And the preparation that I’m starting right now is gonna knock his block off!
