I don’t make assumptions about your life. Just because a woman is over 30, single, and trapped alone the bottom of a well doesn’t mean she’s lonely.
I prefer “independent,” thank you very much.
A single woman can still live a full life alone at the bottom of a well, despite what Hollywood wants you to think. I still have my bucket. I have my rope tied to the bucket. I still have these drawings I etched into the stone of my cat and James van der Beek. Sorry I don’t have time for the outdated societal construction of marriage when I’m busy doing me at the bottom of a well.
I don’t need someone special to make my space special. All I need is myself, and this doll I made out of algae that I’ve grown very attached to.
In my pre-well days, I was always saying things like, “I wish I had more time to go to the beach” and “One day, I want a house on the water.” Now I live in 27 inches of formerly potable water, baby! I don’t need a man to share it with because there isn’t enough for two people. And you know what? I’m fine with that.
My psychic told me traveling alone through the craggy bluffs of Ireland would be a “huge mistake.” It’s true that my cat has probably died of starvation in the nine months I’ve been gone. But you’re still wrong, Elixa. This well taught me to be my own life partner. I’m finally meditating every day. I also got some gorgeous photos right up until the day I fell in. I did burn them for warmth after I ran out of peat, but still, I can remember them pretty good.
Despite all the ink spilled about how dangerous it is for a woman to travel abroad on her own, this well has a crime rate of 0%. Who’s “safe” now?
I’ve learned to love taking care of my body not for anybody else, but for me. My family and friends haven’t heard from me in 266 days, but I’m not the type to wait around for a search party to start eating healthy and working out. I eat plenty of moss. I don’t overindulge on fatty grubs. I can climb – not high enough to see much sunlight, but still. I’m getting stronger and learning to love myself, without a man.
Everyone’s journey is different. Some people marry their high school sweethearts. Some are too afraid to leave their hometowns. Some never learn to make nail polish out of urine and hair. But that’s not me. I’m a strong, independent woman who just happens to be trapped at the bottom of a well, and I’m not about to apologize for it.