true life stories...this one's for you and me, living out our dreams

A few nights ago, I settled into a seat on a flight home to Oklahoma from Montana. I pulled my thin, striped sweater up around me, and I breathed in the faint scent of an outdoor fire mixed with coconut citrus. I covered my eyes with my sleep mask and I covered my arms with my sweater, but I couldn't cover my thoughts with sleep.

The scent of the fire took me back just a few nights, to sitting in front of a huge outdoor fireplace in Big Sky, Montana, with my dear friend Jill and some other random people. It was a good time. Then my thoughts drifted back over the past several days I had spent in Montana. It was a wonderful trip, one which will always bring a smile to my face whenever I think of it. But then, my mind wandered even further back.

You see, the smell of citrus coconut has been my summer scent this year. The possibility of me ever choosing to wear it again hinges on the outcome of some things from this summer. You see, this summer hasn't exactly been the most peachy of seasons for me.

Let's sum it up this way: I stumbled a bit on this path called life, I didn't get the boy, and my dog died. Okay, not really on that last one. But it seemed to go with the "poor me" theme. {Fact: I've never even had a dog that was solely my own. Terrible, I know! Please cry real tears for me; and tell whatever cute boy I end up with that all I want is a puppy that will grow into a huge dog and be mine-all-mine!}

Okay, so back to the thoughts of my summer. As I reflected on Summer 2011, I thought again about something that has previously pricked me on a deeper level. I feel like I've maybe even mentioned it on this blog before, but I am too lazy at the moment to search through my past ramblings.

Basically, my disturbance is this: Why do girls need to end up with some boy in order to feel complete? Why are females expected to have a love story, ala Pioneer Woman's Black Heels to Tractor Wheels tale? Why did Ariel have to get the Prince in order to be happy? Why weren't LEGS enough to complete her? ;)

Now don't get me wrong, I love love stories {especially Pioneer Woman's and Ariel's}! And yes, I certainly do want my own love story, for real. But in the meantime, I've got a lot of other stories that I think are worthy of telling. Even if it's just to remind myself how blessed I am and what a wonderful life God has given me.

And believe me, I'm not pointing fingers at all of you, saying "You guys don't think my stories are worth hearing unless they start with me-and-a-boy and end with and-they-lived-happily-ever-after!" No, I am looking in the mirror and saying that. In the quiet moments, such as when I'm on an airplane and the scent of my sweater pushes me into overly deep thinking, I tell myself that it's okay.

It's okay to be a female who is thirty and single. {WowDidIJustWriteThatOnMyBlog?!?} It sounds so lame when I put it like that. So how about this: It's okay to be a girl who is single and gets to travel and hang out with her friends and spend time with her family and mentor teen girls and lead a small group for her church and volunteer with the youth and the kids program at church. It's okay to be a girl who is single and can therefore work two basically full time jobs. It's okay to be a girl who is single and can flirt with cute boys whenever she wants. ;)

It's okay, right?

~abi~

ps This post is for Megan, who gently admonished me about not blogging enough lately -- and wrote a blog post tonight that pushed me into putting this post-in-my-head onto my blog. Also, this post is for all the single ladies in my life who deserve men who will put a ring on it! ;)