I remember my first school girl crush; his name was Melvin and we were in fourth grade. He was cute for a nine-year-old boy; he was quiet, but had a nice smile and seemed kind. I’d never been a girly-girl, so liking boys was the farthest thing from my mind back then. However, I felt odd because other girls my age were into boys and I…wasn’t. Sometimes, I used to wonder if I was gay because while I liked boys, I wasn’t boy crazy like other girls I knew. Boys were more my friends; we’d sit outside before class started and talk about wrestling. Also, I wasn’t considered to be one of the ‘pretty girls’ growing up. I was kind of chubby, wore glasses, I was quiet and liked to read and listen to music. My self-image at the time was low, and it only got lower as I got older.

I was kissed for the first time when I was about 12. This guy who was in eighth grade who knew my cousin kissed me; I was over the moon. I had a boy try and walk me home from school once; I told him no because my dad would’ve freaked out. I had my first big valentine’s day in sixth grade; this boy who liked me bought me balloons and this really pretty stuffed animal. My parents of course, freaked out and tried to make me return the stuff. I didn’t; I kept that stupid stuffed animal for years.

I fell in love for the first time with my elementary school best friend. I remained in love with him until a few years ago. Nothing ever happened between us but, those feelings I had for him lasted and I held out hope that one day the universe would come full circle and we’d be together. The universe did me a favor by never letting that happen. Our friendship started out completely innocent; we’d been best friends since second grade. People who knew us swore for years that we dated; we never did. We ended up going to the same middle school and he was supposed to ask me to be his valentine in sixth grade. It didn’t happen; he ended up moving to Texas to live with his dad and I didn’t see him again until eighth grade.

By the time I made it to high school, I wasn’t as awkward but I still didn’t feel like I was beautiful enough, or pretty enough, or even worthy enough to date a guy. I had my first experience with ‘dating’ when I was 15. The son of one of the deacons in my church asked for my number. It didn’t work out because he basically solicited me for sex. He felt like because his dad talked to him about sex that it meant that we should have sex. I was 15 and I knew I wasn’t ready for that; I tried to keep talking to him but, he thought he owned me. I didn’t do much dating during high school, with the exception of this one guy my senior year who liked me that turned out to be a bit stalker-ish. I was quiet in high school, kept my head down, headphones in my ears. I was so quiet that I got nominated for ‘most quiet’ in our year book; I didn’t win but the fact that I was nominated was pretty funny. I went to both my junior and senior prom, alone…

I had a guy come over to my house for the first time when I was 19; it never happened again. Because I’m the baby in my family and perhaps the only one of my female cousins who never talked about boys or having a boyfriend, it was a HUGE deal. My mother embarrassed me by standing in the doorway and watching us. She then proceeded to further mortify me by asking me why I chose to hug him instead of shaking his hand. After that, I kept any and all things pertaining to me and dating and boys and sex to myself. To this day, people still wonder whether or not I’m a virgin or if I’m straight. In fact, I’m allegedly an undercover freak because I’m so quiet. Lol. Just so we’re clear: I’m straight, I’m not a freak and the status of my V card is…none of your business.

It wasn’t until 2 years ago that I allowed another guy to pick me up at home for a date and again, my family made a big deal out of it. My date was and still is a really great guy, but nothing ever happened between us. I still see him from time to time around campus and we chat for a few minutes. I’m currently interested into two very nice guys, but I doubt if anything will ever happen. They’re both older than me and I while I like them VERY, VERY much, I don’t feel like I’m their type. I still foolishly hold out hope that one of them will make a move but…I doubt anything will happen.

Being 25 and single is hard.

I’ve had so many people try and psychoanalyze why I’m single:

“You’re standards are too high”

“You’re stuck up,”

“You’re not willing to give guys a chance,”

I’ve also heard the other side; the ‘why’ questions:

“You’re so smart, why are you single?”

“You’re gorgeous, why are you single?”

“I just don’t get it; why are you single?”

I’ll admit, the fact that I’m almost 26 and I’m unmarried with no kids does keep me up at night. I must admit, seeing my classmates from high school and people I’m in college with get engaged and get married and even have children causes this feeling of inadequacy to stir in my gut. I’ve agonized over it, thought of compromising my standards, and my morals, just so people will stop asking me

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“When are you gonna get married?”

“Don’t wait too long; you don’t wanna be too old when you start having kids”

Don’t get me wrong; I love the idea of finding a great guy who just…makes you melt. I love the idea of somebody proposing to me, of picking out a wedding gown (even if the idea makes me wanna cringe…I’ve watched too many episodes of ‘Say Yes to the Dress’), walking down the aisle to my husband, of being pregnant and holding my baby for the first time.

But I’m waiting; I’m waiting because during my wait, I’ve learned how to love myself. I’ve learned the value of myself, and the importance of being strategic in who I share my body with. I’ve learned that sometimes, it’s not about the physical attributes and accomplishments that someone has, but the kind of soul they possess. I’ve learned in my waiting period to work on getting myself together. Perhaps the most important reason I’m waiting is that while I’m a cynic, I still hold on to the belief that when I meet that special guy, I’ll know.

So while I wait, there's this poem called "I Will Wait for You" by Christian poet Janette...ikz that I love. It really puts things into perspective and makes the wait easier:

So it seemed,
that it was cool,
for everyone to be in a relationship but me.

So I took matters into my own hands
and… ended up with him.
Him, who displayed the characteristics of a
cheater, a liar, an abuser, and a thief.

So why was I surprised when he broke into my heart?

I called 911, but I was cardiac-arrested for
aiding and abetting,
’cause it was me who let him in,
claiming we were “just friends.”

It was already decided for me by the first date that
even if he wasn’t,
I was gonna make him “the One.”

You know I was tired of being alone,
and I simply made up in my mind,
that it was about that time
so I decided to drag him along for the ride,
’cause I was always the bridesmaid and never the bride.

A virgin in the physical,
but mentally just a grown woman on the corner in heat,
who was tired of the wait,
so I was gonna make him “the One.”

He had a form of Godliness but…not much.

But, but, hey, hey, I can change him,
so I’ll take him, I mean he’s close…
enough.

Ready to sell my aorta for a quarter,
not knowing the value of its use to me.
Arteries so clogged with my will,
it blocked His will from flowing through me.
So, I thank Christ that His blood pressure gave this heart an attack,
that flat lined my obscured vision, put me flat on my back.

Through my ignorance, He saw,
so through my sternum He sawed and cracked open my chest
to transplant Psalms 51:10,
a new heart
and a renewed right spirit within.
So now, I fully understand,
better yet, I thoroughly comprehend,
how much I need to wait
for You.

See, the bad thing is
that I knew he wasn’t you from the beginning.
’Cause in the beginning was the Word
and he didn’t even sound or shine like Your Son

Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks,
and all he could whisper was
sweet,
empty
nothings–which meant nothing!

He couldn’t even have prayed when I needed him to,
asking him to fast would be absurd,
so, forget about being cleansed and washed with water through the Word.

But I know you,
you are already praying for me.
Even never having met me,
let me assure you,
I will wait
for you.

I will no longer date,
socialize or communicate with carbon copies of you
to appease my boredom
or to quench my thirsty desire for attention and short-lived compliments from ‘sorta-kinda’s.’

You know, he’s ‘sorta kinda’ right, but ‘sorta kinda’ wrong?
His first name: Luke,
his last name: Warm.

I won’t settle for false companionship.
I won’t lay in the embrace of his arms,
attempting to find some closeness,
but never feeling so far apart
’cause, I just wanna be held.
‘Cause all I gotta do is say…
“No!”

No more ‘almost sessions’ of
‘almost coming close’
passing winks and buying drinks,
and I’ma,
I’ma,
I’ma flirt!
Who flirts with the ideology of,
“Can you just tell me how much I can get away with and still be saved?”

No more.

I’ll stay in my bed…alone,
and write poems,
about how I will wait for You.

He won’t even come close,
our fingers won’t even interlock,
we won’t even exchange breath,
’cause I have thoughts that I’ve ‘saved as’ in a file that God has only equipped you to open.

I will no longer get weighted down,
from so-called friends and family talks,
about the concern for my biological clock
when I serve the Author of Time.
Who is not subject to time,
but I’m subject to Him.
He has the ability to stop, fast-forward, pause, or rewind at any given time.
So, if we could role play,
you would be Abraham and I would be Sara,
or you can be Isaac and I can be Rebecca–a servant’s answered prayer.
I am bone of your bone,
flesh of your flesh,
made up of your rib, Adam.

And once we meet,
like electrons, I will be bound to your nucleus,
completely indivisible
atom.

We even speak the same math:
1 + 1 + 1 = 3,
which really equals 1 if you add Him.

We were all created in His image,
but you have the ability to reflect, project and even detect
the Son.
If I were to explain what you look like,
you would have to look like a star–
a sun of the Son.
I would gain energy simply from the light that you shine on me.
I would need you in order to complete my photosynthesis.
I await your revelation, but once again from the genesis,
I will wait for you.

And I will know you
because when you speak,
I will be reminded of Solomon’s wisdom,
your ability to lead will remind me of Moses,
your faith will remind me of Abraham,
your confidence in God’s Word will remind me of Daniel,
your inspiration will remind me of Paul,
your heart for God will remind me of David,
your attention to detail will remind me of Noah,
your integrity will remind me of Joseph,
and your ability to abandon your own will, will remind me of the disciples,
but your ability to love selflessly and unconditionally will remind me of Christ.
But I won’t need to identify you by any special Matthews
or any special Marks,
’cause His Word will be tatted all over your heart.

And you will know me,
and you will find me,
where
the boldness of Esther
meets the warm closeness of Ruth,
where the hospitality of Lydia
is aligned with the submission of Mary,
which is engulfed in the tears of a praying Hanna.
I will be the one,
drenched in Proverbs 31,
waiting for you.

But to my Father,
my Father who has known me before I was birthed into this earth,
only if You should see fit.

I desire your will above mine.
So even if you call me to a life of single-ness,
my heart is content with You–the One who was sent.
You are the greatest love story ever told,
the greatest love ever known.
You are forever my judge and I’m forever Your witness,
and I pray that I’m always found on a mission about my Father’s business.

I will always be Yours,
and I will always wait for You, Lord.
More than the watchmen wait for the morning,
more than the watchmen wait for the morning,

I. Will. Wait.