Dr. Carolyn Lee reflects on a different cliché each week. Recently, in her blog “How Times Have Changed,” she looks back on Christmases past and appreciates Christmas Present. This week Carolyn explores the cliché, flying solo.

Learn more about Dr. Carolyn Lee on her biography page or investigate 29 more clichés in her latest book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By. 

Flying Solo 

When I was in my mid-twenties, I was teaching at a Quaker boarding school outside of Philadelphia. The woman who was Dean of Girls was probably in her mid-forties, and I thought of her as the quintessential “old maid.” One day the two of us were walking down a country lane, on our way to the home of the former headmaster of the school. I can’t imagine how we ever got on the subject of marriage. That was certainly not a topic I would ever have brought up with her. I don’t remember anything else about our discussion except for one line she spoke to me. She said, “I’ve always thought it would take a very good husband to be better than no husband at all.”  She certainly wouldn’t have guessed that more than fifty years later, I would be quoting her in a blog. And I wouldn’t have guessed her comment would occupy a permanent spot in my memory bank.    

I think she was right. I believe that finding a great husband would be just about the best thing that could happen to a woman. Second to a great husband would be no husband at all, and   way down at the bottom of the list would be settling for the wrong guy.  

By the time I was thirty, all of my friends were married and having babies. I liked all their husbands and was happy they had found partners who were right for them. But I realized that none of the husbands I met would have been right for me—nor I for them. 

I remembered the Dean of Girls’ philosophy when I was thirty-five and it was beginning to dawn on me that marital bliss might not be part of my future. I thought about it every time someone spoke about all those fish in the sea. I hadn’t personally encountered all that many fish that seemed like keepers to me. Where in the heck was this kindred spirit, this soul mate who would be my better half? Well, he didn’t show up. But—lucky me! I got my second choice, which was no husband at all.  

I acknowledge, sadly, that I have missed out on the thing that many people consider our reason for being. I’ve read the books; I’ve seen the rom-coms; I’ve heard—and even sung—the songs that remind us, “You’re Nobody ‘Till Somebody Loves You” or “There was love all around, but I never heard it singing ‘till there was you.” I get all that; I really do.  

But just for the sake of discussion, let me say that the single life is really not all that bad. At least, not for me. I do not experience the loneliness that some single people feel; I do not weep into my pillow at night or bemoan the fact that I’ve never celebrated a wedding anniversary; I certainly don’t resent the happiness of others. Okay, there are times when I feel like most people I know belong to an invitation-only club from which I have been excluded. I admit that. But there are other times when I think, yes, I have missed out on something, but I have been spared a great deal, too. 

A few years ago, when I was on one of my many “sabbaticals,” I drove from Fort Worth to St. Louis to Chicago to Philadelphia to Boston to Burlington to Baltimore to Rock Hill, South Carolina, and back to Fort Worth, visiting good friends along the way. All of my friends seemed to be doing okay; they seemed happy enough. While I was visiting, my friends would often have luncheons or teas to which they would invite a number of their women friends. So, over the course of several weeks, I had the opportunity to have fairly intimate conversations with lots and lots of women—all of whom were married with children. And, oh, my, I heard some tales. Many of these ladies expressed contentment with the lives they were living. But there was also, “My husband doesn’t really talk to me anymore.” “My daughter is in rehab.” “I’m anxious about approaching that empty-nest phase.” “I think we might be growing apart.” When these women asked me what I was doing, I told them I had taken a year “off,” and I was just driving around the country catching up with old friends. They looked at me as if I had told them I was off to see the Wizard. For one thing, they simply couldn’t envision doing anything by themselves. They had a very hard time imagining the kind of freedom I experienced or the concept of a cross-country, solo driving trip. They made jokes about hiding in my luggage, stowing away in the trunk of my car. I’ve never felt quite so interesting and adventurous.  

Now, let me make something very clear: I don’t think any of these women would have traded places with me. I don’t believe anyone was seriously envious of my lifestyle. It could be that, when they really thought about it, some of them even felt a little sorry for me. I don’t know. I just remember that, by the time I left South Carolina for the long drive back to Texas, I was not feeling sorry for myself. In fact, I felt like the luckiest person on earth! Remember that song from Pinocchio called “I’ve Got No Strings”? “I’ve got no strings to hold me down, no strings at all to make me frown. How I love my liberty. There are no strings on me!” That was my theme song for the long, solitary drive back home. If I turned on the radio and Whitney was singing, “I Will Always Love You” or I heard the Carpenters harmonizing on “I Won’t Last a Day without You,” I just switched to the news on NPR.

Want to Read More? 

Check out Dr. Carolyn Lee’s blogs on her website, she features a new cliché each week or you can order her new book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By. Want to know more about the woman behind the words? Read more about Carolyn here. We hope you enjoyed this article learning more about the cliché, flying solo.