Recently a friend and I were talking about when we first knew we were grown-ups…er, mature adults. When we knew we were women and not just girls. For me, it was when I bought my first bed. I had been living in San Francisco for nearly a year, sleeping on a mattress on the floor because it seemed more practical. I was in a relationship that was headed toward marriage. We were already talking engagement, so why bother buying a bed that would just fit me – not me and the guy I would be marring soon?

Well, even after our short-lived engagement ended and our relationship dissolved, it took me months to make the plunge and buy my own bed. There was a part of me that didn’t want to admit my relationship had “failed,” that I wasn’t getting married, that I was on my own.

But as I started to heal – thanks in part to time and good counsel – I realized I needed to embrace my single status instead of longing for the path I had thought I was on. The path down the aisle. If I didn’t, I’d never move on, I’d never grow.

So, I shopped around for a bed and bought the one I wanted – the pillow-top, full-sized, just-enough-room-for-me bed. After handing over my credit card and signing for the delivery fee, I felt an incredible sense of empowerment knowing that I could take care of myself. Continue reading →