I try to sound brave whenever I tell people my plans to conceive alone.

I probably sound naive as fuck.

After all, most of them are parents with partners. Who the fuck chooses to be a single parent out the gate?

I guess a woman who knows she’s running out of time.

I get asked multiple times why I want to wait for this arbitrary age to hit before I start taking it seriously.

The truth is I want to give the universe a chance... just in case there’s any magic out there for me in the next year or so. I know it’s corny, but who the fuck knows, maybe another true shot at love is just around the corner...

That’s so corny. I kinda want corny tho… If I’m being completely honest.

I just know that once I start taking the baby plan seriously—I can’t turn back. I will have to permanently share my time, and I was hoping to share myself with a nice man, before anyone little came along.

I used to cry after Tako and I got home from his puppy kinder classes. I was always the only solo dog parent, most of the training exercises required two people, so the instructor always helped me out. Still—I was frustrated most times because I just felt alone.

Imagine going through all the motions alone with a human child…

I promise I honestly try when it comes to the opposite sex.

I give chances to men I’m not necessarily attracted to, interested in, or don’t see a future with—because maybe, just maybe… my over-analytical/smart ass/know-it-all-self can be proven wrong.

I just keep running into men who don’t respect my time, don’t see my value, or simply have nothing in common with, and that’s fine… I can accept that.

But… GOD… this process has taken it’s toll on me.

I’m so sad I have to prioritize a dream of creating a little life before I can feel taken care of, because as fucking strong and independent as I am…

I would love to just be taken care of.

Even for a little. Even if it’s just folding my clothes. Or having dinner on the table. Or picking up my favorite snack…

Consistently.

Because I deserve that.