I am deliciously single.

While I’m willing to admit that this could be a fleeting thing, that I may not always feel this way, here’s where I am right now: I don’t think I want to get married again.

And I certainly don’t need to.

I’ve got, let’s say, twelve years left with these two young men in my home. What if I pour myself wholly into them, instead of anyone else?

What if I choose to do this one thing really, really well? Without distraction?

What if I focus on building our really terrific three, and I stop thinking about us becoming a four?

Anybody can be somebody’s wife. Young happy woman standing in yellow rapeseed field holding a whBut only I can be this mom.

I’ve stepped out of emotional commitments.
I’m signing off the dating sites.
I am deliciously single.

And deliriously free.

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