Dear God, You Must Really Want Me To Be Single

Letter-to-God

Dear God,

Or whichever Higher Intelligence being is up out there that created us (though I personally believe that if you do in fact exist you’re likely a higher dimension being whom we have as much chance of understanding as ants do us) you really must want me to be single.

Before I get to whopping some dead-horse ass however, let me say that while I am not entirely sure that I asked to be here – and if I did, let’s just classify that as one of my more idiotic decisions – I am grudgingly grateful that I have survived right until this point and have thusly prospered. *insert something here about EbenezerSomethingSomething* I don’t know what you had in mind for me at this point in my life. If however, it involved exams – so many freaking exams – reclusiveness, obsessive writing, and towns so small even I (who walks like she’s standing still) can walk through them in half an hour, then I nailed it and believe me it was no small feat.

Truth being told, I don’t subscribe to the theory that everything happens for a reason. That somehow you scrutinize our every single action. I mean even for those people whose lives you’re so involved in they actually see visions of you, I’m sure sometimes you’re like: “Nah, it’s cool bro. Chicken or fish, you can choose whatever you want, they’ll both give you diarrhea anyway.” Then again, I can’t even begin to understand how you work. Therefore, I’ll just jump to a conclusion here and say that you likely guide us to general areas of existence and whichever paths we choose to take in those areas, you’re down with. Unless of course we’re Jonah and decide to go sailing instead, then you become a bit of an ass. That’s okay though because human beings are the ass-iest of them all and if we’re created in your image, it sort of makes sense.

Now that being said, I have to emphasize that I am truly grateful that the paths you let my parents take involved them raising me to be independent, free-thinking, and confident. Of course that had the unforeseen side effects of making me despise authority. Not to mention that I became a generally high-strung individual – because, again, I don’t think I wanted to be here in the first place anyway – but I am working on that and making some headway. I think. Perhaps, in relation to my upbringing, one of the discussions I’ll never forget is that one I had with my mom on her wedding anniversary. If you recall – and you probably do – she’d told us to get dressed-up because we were joining her and my dad for dinner and I asked her why she’d want to take her children to a fancy anniversary dinner. She’d responded, and I paraphrase, that she wanted us growing up having tasted the finer life and knowing that we could get there by ourselves so that no man would string us along by promising that which we had already attained.

Here I am, as a result, able to gain what I want without the need of a man by my side. I have reached though and I am bemused. I look to my left and I see long articles advising working women to put their husbands and children first; to always hand cash over to their men if they earn more than them; to always be available whenever their husbands want sex; and to never respond when their partners are shouting at them. I look to my right and I see indignant men saying that if they support their wives financially then they should never be denied sex; that they didn’t marry only so that they could continue with household chores; and that any woman who isn’t willing to stand by and support them in their (often idiotic and gross) failures isn’t a woman at all.

In these moments of frustration I look up to you whom I had always seen as a loving and wonderful creator and I blanch – as much as someone with my beautifully dark skin tone can, anyway – as I read the bible saying that women are under the authority of their husbands and that they were created for men. I continue and see that your disciples wrote that women are forbidden to hold authority over men. That you made it so that they can only be saved through childbirth. I think you know my feelings in those moments quite well.

I made up my mind about these moments and so I don’t get as upset as I did originally but see, I find it hard to believe that you, the all-encompassing, ever-loving creator of the universe and all things wonderful made me to primarily be some sort of servant play-thing entertainment… Ahem. Er, let me rephrase, that: you, the all blah, blah, blah, wonderful consider me to be of less importance than all the males in the world. Or is it just the one male? The one lord you chose to rule over me? If this is the case then again, I am sorry God but I will wash my hands of this directive of yours and simply decide to stay as me, without my worth being diminished by the shadow of any male. Even if that means leaving the religious part of it all which, if you exist, you know I’ve already done.

I know that you’re God and you can do whatever you damn well please so I don’t hold that against you. Despite my disappointment at the thought that my maker doesn’t value me as much as he does, say my brother or my father, I don’t deny that you’re well within your capacity to do so. It’s your ball during playtime anyway and you can be that irritating kid who enforces rules upon the game and while we might despise you for it, there’s nothing we can do about it.

This is why I insist that you really must want me to be single for you ensured that I was raised the way I was, developed the personality that I have, and then placed me here to make my decision as you saw to it that I only ever meet the males to whom ego comes first. I mean the way these things happen, one of those could have been a coincidence but three at a go? I think not. Now this might sound odd considering that it contradicts the directives I pointed out above but I still choose to believe that you see us as equal and that no human being is of more importance to you than any other.

In that spirit, I will state that if I were to get into any binding relationship, it will be with an equal. Not as the cook, cleaner, and mother while he is the provider period. I can provide for myself a lot more than any man can for me so that role of his will be redundant. No, instead we shall both be the cooks, cleaners, parents – to the pets and the pets only – and the glue that keeps us together. Human love is most fickle and usually brings nothing but pain so I will not rely on that to keep us together.

I would expect that even as I support, love, and cherish, I will be supported back, loved, and cherished in return. It will not be easy for the other person for you know all the crap that I go through – especially considering my high-strung self is practicing medicine – but I will expect no less. That I will not cry alone when I can have someone comfort me and all this bull shit about males not being able to comprehend emotions will be left behind for comfort is a practiced art and has little to do with empathy (trust me, I’m a sociopath).

I will fight for, love furiously, and grow with someone who is also able to grow and will not stay rigid, expecting me to blossom and support us both. I do not like children so I do not expect to start dating one any time soon and I love myself so I will not have someone who expects me to be less so that he can seem more than he is. I’d rather a trusty vibrator if that were the case, thank you very much. All this is irrelevant though, I suppose. After all, I am rather like a potato whose insides were taken out, boiled without any seasoning, mashed, and then messily put back into the peels. There’s also the fact that I’ve got a personality like a Hellhound. What can I say; I never do anything haphazardly.

At this point I’ll also express my disinterest in this whole marriage thing you want us to be a part of. Like you know, I am yet to see a good marriage and so I refuse to be abused, undermined, or raped in my own home only to have your bible say that since it’s not cheating, you won’t allow a divorce. No thank you, Jesus, I’m good. I am not comfortable with relationships as they are portrayed around me and I will simply not succumb to public opinion, so tell your pastors thanks but fuck no! These spirits of Ahab and Jezebel teachings are utterly ridiculous, if you asked me (which you won’t). Considering that my opinion is vastly unpopular, I think I am finally understanding what you’re getting at.

If you have raised me to be who I am but haven’t created anybody who could possibly sate my (specific) need for company, then you must want me to be single. 

Yours for all eternity (quite literally – if you do exist, that is),

The girl who can take a hint.

Written by Denise Kavuma

I AM DENISE!!! nuff said!

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