So, still shaking the glitter out of my hair from New Year’s, I’m here to tell you that I made a resolution this year. Or should I call it a dare: “I’m going to spend more time for me, socializing with my friends, treating myself well, and yes, falling in love.” This kind of thing is risky, considering we often feel powerless in that search for “the one,” but I felt like I had to make a stand after the Lil’ Nugget turned one in November, and here’s why.

I’ve been dreading Valentine’s Day for some time now. Before motherhood, I was never a huge fan of this overly saccharin, commercialized excuse for a holiday and probably would have completely ignored it, but not so these days. After all, I haven’t seriously dated in two years, since just prior to getting pregnant, and more than just being some simplistic hallmark card holiday, Valentine’s has begun looking more like a lighthouse lately, attempting to scour the barren landscape of my cobweb-laden dating life.

Yes, like many, when I got pregnant Motherhood threw back her her flowing mane and laughed heartily at any thoughts I might have had of “personal” time. And though I’ve gotten to be pretty amazing at carving out a well-oiled schedule as a single mom, I sat down a few months ago and realized I still hadn’t been out at night more than a handful of times in the last year.

Sure, I was an exhausted, new mom, and sure, my friends stopped calling and assumed having a baby meant I was ineligible for a social life. But unlike all of their other “parent” friends, I’m still single. Opting to take sole comfort in my home life could still lead to me owning more than two cats and becoming a hoarder someday. So why wasn’t I shaving my legs, getting gussied up and dragging a couple of estranged single friends out with me?


Well, the problem was actually a lot more personal than that – in fact, it was all in my head.  Just the thought of trying to  “pass” as a free-flyng singleton was downright intimidating. I worried that when I met someone, they would see right through my seemingly free-flowing singleton facade to the exhausted mom underneath. Add to that, I imagined having to have the “baby” talk. You know – the one where I explain that I am a single mom – No, never married. Yes, a donor. No, not anonymous… Just the thought of this conversation was totally exhausting – and not exactly light and flirty.

But I’ll tell you a not-so-secret secret. Despite being self-conscious about how I had been redefined from single to “mom,” I had, since my first IVF appointment until this very day,  never had so many dating proposals in my life. I’m not kidding. I barely leave my house and it’s like I’m slathered in pheromones or something when I do.

It might seem ironic that pregnancy and the insecurities of motherhood would give me this special power of attraction, but the reason was simple: I had inadvertently stopped caring about how my new dating situations would turn out, because I just assumed they wouldn’t. Apparently, this seems a whole lot like self-confidence to the opposite sex, and makes most available dating prospects go gaga.

This magically took the pressure off – pressure that many of us (especially women) carry around every day, all day.

Unfortunately, the only relationship I wanted to give my energy to was the one with my baby.  Understandable, but now more than a year since the Lil’ Nugget was born, I’m realizing I was given a pearl of wisdom two years ago that I can still use today: stop focusing on the end result – and get OUT of the house. Let’s face it.  Desperation is ugly.

I may not find somebody in time for Valentine’s Day, but sure as taxes, if I do all that, I will find somebody amazing. Any of you out there want to share your plans for Valentine’s Day?