By: Mia L. Hazlett
There is a MEantime that exist while I wait for The Next. Life must continue and I’ve gotten to the point that I must continue to work on me and continue to become the woman I want to be when I grow up. Deep down in my soul, I know I have not even reached a fraction of who God has created me to be. I wake up at 4 before the sun rises. In mere weeks, I will be coming home after the sun has come down. I run myself frantic during the day getting my work done in a windowless 8×6 room for eight hours.
That’s not what my life has come down to. It’s a wonderful job that has exposed me to wonderful people and a network worth knowing in life, but it’s not it for me. My passion is writing. That’s what I need to nurture. That’s what is going to make me whole. It won’t matter who The Next is, if I feel unfulfilled in this area of my life. I’ve finally gotten to the point in my life where I know my happiness is my responsibility. A man is not going to make me happy, writing, my God given gift, will.
That is not to say I am some lone warrior who wants to conquer the rest of my life alone. But I’ve become extremely selective about who gets to where The Next title. Call me arrogant or hung up on myself, but I have expectations that I will not lower. For instance, I grabbed a bite to eat the other night with a guy I used to see. It wasn’t a date, it was meeting up after work. Everything went well until bill time came. I went to the bathroom and upon my return, the waitress was handing his card back saying there were insufficient funds. I giggled to myself, because throughout my sporadic dating, I always ask God for a sign. I didn’t even ask for a sign this time.
Throughout this dinner, this kind man had mentioned how he wanted to be in a serious relationship, how that is what he was ready for in his life right now. I thought that was a very bold statement. Up until now, I had only heard how they weren’t ready for anything serious. He did end up paying for the meal somehow, and we spent an awkward ten minutes at the table, he stating the reason for his finances and me wondering how I could be a single mother with two kids, have paid all my bills in the past week, and still have afforded this meal ten times over?
I didn’t hear from him for about four days and when he did send a text, he was asking when he could see me next. I was honest and told him I doubt it would happen. At this point in my life I needed someone who was financially stable and capable of taking me out for a quick bite to eat after work. I told him that I come with kids, and one day we would all be out to eat. He proceeded to call me a gold digger and tell me he wasn’t looking to support anyone and that he was not hurting for money by any means. Okay.
I was hurt that he thought of me as a gold digger, so I went to a knowledgeable source of she who knows everything, my BFF. She told me I should have responded “me too.” She relayed that I knew the situation, no matter what he told me. I would be in a situation of supporting this man who did not have his finances where mine were and I should not feel bad about it. It was a short lived guilt. I can’t waiver from my expectations. I can’t fall short of who God wants me to become. And if I’ve learned anything in life, lowered expectations are no longer an option.