“A Single Gal’s Manifesto” by Sheryn B.

A woman I greatly admire and who I recognized as being one of those soul-family people when we first met recently wrote a blog post on FetLife. It kind of is the zenith to my recent post’s nadir-gazing miasma, and I’ve obtained her permission to repost it here.

A Single Gal’s Manifesto

Journal Entry written 1 day ago by SherynB

Right now, this minute….who are you with?

Did you just say Nobody?

Really??

Look again, my friend. At the VERY least you are with the person you were born with. The one who has been with you for every lovely, joyful, sorrowful, painful, frightening, exciting, boring, pleasurable, ever-lovin’ minute of your life, and will walk with you even when you die. And you just said Nobody.

So tell me again. Who are you saving the good wine and the pretty china for? Whose body did you love and pamper and give pleasure to today? Who was the feast for?

I heard you Wishing for somebody to “share it with”. Your “One and Only” who makes you more important than anybody else in the world. If only THEY were here, you’d trot out the Special Things and you’d be Happy, and the world would be Right.

I don’t believe for one moment that there is ROOM in your life for the person big enough, worthy enough, to fill that space for you as long as you are hanging a “Closed” sign on the door, and expecting that when They show up, you’ll turn on the lights and get the party started.

Not me.

Lights are on. Dinner’s cooking. Bed’s warm. There’s plenty here, there’s enough to share. I’m full up, and there’s always room for more.

The rules are simple. Love full out. Be Here Now. Treat Yourself Beautifully.

Every decision we’ve made in our life, every person we’ve known, every choice, every journey, every bit of happenstance and planning and luck and bizarre beautiful coincidence has conspired to lead us to this one beautiful moment. No matter how exciting or mundane it is, it is REAL. And most of the people I know aren’t paying the least bit of attention to it. Too busy bemoaning a past that didn’t happen, a future that may or may not come to pass. Inventing hosts of potential tragedies to worry about and chewing on fantasies of what “should have been” or how things Will Be as soon as Someone Else Does Something.

Not me. Not any more.

I may not be anybody’s “Primary Partner”. Hell, most of the time I’m not even on the list of “Secondary” partners, “metamours”, or for the busy types, first fuckers once removed. And you know what? I’m OKAY WITH THAT.

My life does not begin When Somebody Loves Me.

My life exists because I Love.

Right here. Right now. Me. You. Him. Her. Hir. Them.

From the innocent flirt with the old man at the bakery counter to the puppy pile after the party to the spouse/significant other someone was kind enough to give permission to play with, kiss, hug, fight with or fuck.

Full out. No reserves. No expectations except: Be Honest. Be Here. Be Real.

Maybe it’s just for tonight. Maybe it’s Same Time Next Year. Maybe we flirt until the end of time and nothing more. I’m okay with that.

Don’t apologize to me because we got all naked and you’d…Really. Rather. Cuddle. or Sleep. If you feel safe enough to curl up in my arms and sleep happily, I am just as loved as if we’d worked our way through the first half the Kama Sutra before the police showed up.

On the other hand, if I just fucked your husband or partner into next Tuesday and would happily do it again…please do trust me that it doesn’t mean I’m interested in his care and feeding, or plotting to steal him away. If you were generous and gracious enough to share him (trust me, I made sure of that before we started…and if he lied about it, we’re done anyway), I’m not about to bitch EVER about him prioritizing you. I insist on it.

I have friends that are lovers, lovers that are friends, people I like to fuck, and people I’d prefer not to. I love them all the same. Some of them love me back. Some don’t call it love, they just enjoy my company.

Some of the best sex I’ve ever had, I chased the last body out the door at the end of the weekend thinking “That was the best fu…..OMG…we never actually DID fuck” and laughed in joy.

Loving doesn’t require genitals. It doesn’t require permission. It doesn’t require reciprocation, ownership, permanence, promises or guarantees.

I do it all the time.

Do I get hurt? Sure I do. Mostly when I start fantasizing about how much better I think Something I Don’t Have might be and forget to enjoy what I have Right Here Right Now. More often when someone who simply cannot see that I mean what say when I say I’m good with Exactly What I Have destroys things and closes doors out of jealousy and fear. That always hurts my heart.

But you know what? My capacity to Love will never be greater than my willingness to be hurt. So I will hurt. And at the end of the day, the hurt will fade, and the Love will still be there. It is the way we are made.

We cannot lose this game except by not playing.

It took me a long time to realize I may not have The One Great Love. I may not be somebody’s Primary Partner, Dearly Beloved, or The One. I may not spend my lifetime gazing happily into the eyes of a partner.

But whether I die tomorrow or 50 years from now, I will have had the great honor to have loved a great number of people completely. For a day, a moment, an hour, or years, and in that, I have riches beyond measure.

And in the meantime, I will set my own place at the table, and treat my Self beautifully. My house is full, the lights are on, and there’s always room at the table for more.

We get one pass at this beautiful life. Live it full out. Love, full out.