Sara Doane: Trying to Make It

I have this image in my head of the strong woman I want to be, and sometimes I look like her. Sometimes, I go back to needing things that strong woman doesn't need. It's difficult to keep everything straight in my head, especially when logic and emotion are at such odds with each other. Even my emotions are at odds.

This strong woman I imagine has her own home, lives by herself without fear, travels the world solo, makes her own decisions, is the best Auntie in the world, and owns a Sphinx cat because she likes how adorably ugly they are. She has at least one tattoo and doesn't care what men think about it, is viewed by others as a gracefully single woman who rocks her marital status like The Rolling Stones, and doesn't view every new, attractive male acquaintance as a potential life partner. She's confident in her abilities, works hard, and is rewarded with a successful and fulfilling career. She grabs life by the horns and takes on every challenge with grace, attitude, and optimism. She's not afraid to love when it does come around, but she's not so vulnerable that she leaves herself open to heartache around every corner; she's selective and it pays off. She's happy and fulfilled, even when alone, because she finds herself to be good company.

Sometimes I wish I were as two-dimensional as that woman...as if I were a side character in a novel. Life would be so much easier if I knew exactly who I was and exactly what I wanted.

But I'm not, and I don't know much of anything. I'm terrified of living alone at times, and five minutes later I feel like it's a challenge I'd love to take on. Sometimes I'm afraid to get an ugly cat or an awesome tattoo because some men may not like it. And really, so many fears in my life revolve around being single. What if potential boyfriends don't like tattoos or hairless cats? What if I find someone I really love and they leave me? What if I never find someone I really love? Will I always be as guarded as I am now? I often don't like my own company, and the idea of dying alone, having accomplished very little aside from a career and some paintings, paralyzes me with fear.

I wish I could be like Spock...logically caring about what's right, but emotionally detached and satisfied with living. His character must have been an outlet for some writer as frustrated as I am, a wonderful vision of who they wanted to be.

I wish I could say all of this anxiety would amount to something, some time in the future, but life doesn't give you those previews. All I can do is keep trying to be that strong woman I imagine.