What I’ve Really Been Looking For
Before I got married, I knew exactly what I wanted.
I was dating for a husband. I wanted a partner. A life we’d build together.
After the divorce, I’ve wanted everything—and nothing.
I’ve gone from feeling dead inside and never wanting to be touched again… to craving every kink and fantasy I’d never let myself explore.
I swore off marriage and monogamy, only to later be convinced I’d marry AC with a paper ring if he asked me.
Now?
When someone asks what I’m looking for—I’m honest:
I don’t know.
I’m not opposed to long-term. I’m not opposed to monogamy. I’m not even opposed to polyamory.
But I’m not chasing any of them, either.
For over a year, it’s been like trying to grab clarity in a wind tunnel.
Just when I think I’ve caught the answer, it flips, and something shinier shows up.
Again and again, I’ve told myself:
I trust I'll know when I find what I'm seeking.
But this week, it finally landed.
And not in a bedroom. Not on a date.
Not in a conversation about love or commitment or forever.
It happened at 6 AM.
In the middle of a rainstorm.
While I was cursing myself for leaving my water bottle in the car two blocks away from the gym.
I hadn’t slept.
I was taking it out on the heavy bag in front of me while “H-O-T-T-O-G-O” blared over the speakers—loud enough to drown out my bad singing.
And then it hit me.
So fast and so clear I actually stopped mid-swing.
“I’ve been trying to figure out what I want in relationships.
But what I’ve really been missing…is a ride-or-die.”
The Kind I Used to Have
Back when I was still unraveling my post-divorce life, I had two women in my world.
We weren’t lifelong friends.
We weren’t trauma bonded.
We just clicked.
We had kids the same age.
We didn’t knock when we came over.
We opened cupboards.
We helped ourselves to snacks.
We wore mismatched pajamas and always had a safe place to land.
They were the kind of friends who didn’t ask, “Do you need help?”
They just showed up.
They did the dishes.
They wrangled my child into shoes and coats and whisked them away when I was at my edge.
“They were my village.”
And when those friendships ended, they left a hole I never truly acknowledged.
Not just because I missed them,
But because I missed their kids.
Their energy.
The casual, comfortable way we showed up for each other.
Maybe I’ve Been Looking in the Wrong Place
For years, I thought the ache I felt was for a partner.
A relationship. A lover. A forever.
But now I’m wondering if I’ve just been missing the kind of person you don’t have to be anything for.
Someone who shows up.
Doesn’t flinch.
Knows how you take your coffee.
Would drive across town at midnight just because you said, “I need you.”
I’ve been searching for clarity in love…
but maybe I was really just craving a ride-or-die.
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