I bought a mixer.
It wasn’t something I had planned to do, but it was there at the store, boasting its multipurposeness as a stand mixer or a handheld one, all for only $30. So I bought it.
But I kind of hate that I bought it. Or, more accurately, that I had to buy it.
Mixers seem like, as this blogger wrote, “a ‘wedding ticket’ item,” not the sort of thing one buys on a whim at Aldi. In my family, my grandma gives a mixer as a bridal shower gift. My sister and sister-in-law have theirs, and my engaged cousin will get hers in the next few months. Coming from my grandma, who bakes with great skill and as an expression of love and caring for her family and friends, it is the perfect gift.
So this is not how I planned on getting a mixer. It’s not how I wanted to get my mixer.
Because it’s not just a mixer. It feels like a symbol of how my life is going differently than I had planned or hoped. It’s one of those little things that has slapped me in the face and reminded me that I’m single but would prefer not to be.
It’s irrational, I know, to be tying my purchase of a mixer to the fact that I am single. My relationship status should not be connected to a kitchen appliance.
But telling yourself your line of thinking and feeling is irrational does not take the sting away. I still would like to not be single, and at its core, that is not bad. I have a full life, and for the most part I’m very happy with it; but I desire to get married, to have that one person to live and laugh and grow with, who will encourage me to love and serve and glorify God better as I do the same for him.
When you desire something and that desire is coming from a good place, all the wonderful things in your life can’t make up for what you don’t have.
I always hesitate to publish posts like this one. It can come across as whiney and ungrateful for the people I do have in my life, but I can’t wave a magic wand to make myself stop feeling like I would rather not be single. Buying a mixer, going to weddings, seeing the Valentine’s Day cards—all of these (and so many more) can be very sharp reminders of one’s singleness.
Now, I’m not made of glass; I won’t shatter as I walk through the Valentine’s candy aisle or sitting at a wedding (I actually quite enjoy weddings sometimes), and buying the mixer didn’t ruin my week. But I’m also not made of stone, and sometimes being single hurts. Yes, I’m young, I’m grateful for the freedom being single allows me, I know that being in a relationship isn’t easy either, and there’s lots of hope for me. But none of those change my current reality of being single when I’d prefer not to be, of having bought my own mixer because I don’t know if or when I’ll get one in some other way.
So I own a mixer now. I could glare at this kitchen appliance in resentment over the way it reminds of how my life is going differently than I’d hoped, and honestly, there may be moments when I do. I could also use that mixer and learn to make really awesome food, keeping in mind that unfinished stories leave room for unexpected endings.
I’ll strive for the second.
Til next time…
p.s. Have you ever had something be a reminder of how your life isn’t turning out like you hoped it would?