Last Days of Bacheloretting

I've been a bachelorette for almost fourteen years.

I see "bachelorette" is not a real word, evidenced by the squiggle line under it.

I decided to try to find a non-derivative word for "independent woman," and all of them were derogatory: spinster, old maid, damsel (might not be derogatory but it's always used in tandem with in distress), lonely heart, lady of leisure, and divorcee.

This state of being an independent woman needs a better word than bachelorette, a word that suggests a state of waiting for marriage.

I found these words to add to my vocabulary.

Virago: A virago is a well-traveled woman who demonstrates exemplary and heroic qualities. The word comes from the Latin word virāgō, meaning variously, vigorous, heroic maiden, a female warrior, heroine. The word virago has almost always had an association with cultural gender transgression. A virago, of whatever excellence, was still identified by her gender. There are recorded instances of viragos fighting battles, wearing men's clothing, or receiving the tonsure. The word virago is also used disparagingly, to imply that a virago was not excellent or heroic, but was instead violating cultural norms. Thus virago joined pejoratives such as termagant, mannish, amazonian and shrew to demean women who acted aggressively or like men.

Vituperator: a woman who speaks her mind, often with harsh or abusive language. A hellion. A madcap. A fury. A siren.

Termagant: violent; turbulent; brawling; shrewish

Mad MOzElle: like Madamoiselle, French title *of respect* equivalent to “Miss”, used in speaking to or of a girl or unmarried woman, but *way* more fun

Liberated, free

Autonomous, self-reliant, self-sufficient, self-determining, sovereign, individualistic

As I write all of these words, I realize that I will not stop being these things.

Autonomous. That's the word we fought over. That's the word I kept saying. Result: success. 
Fourteen years of being Autonomous, making and living with my own decisions.

Self-reliant: something else we fought about. 
Result: success. Either fixed it myself or found someone who could.

Every word listed has the same result: success. None of them came easy. Blood, sweat, tears, bought or borrowed.

Things I did on my own:Taxes. I failed. I hired an accountant. I succeeded.

Mortgage: paid off 12 years early.

Maintenance: Watched my house. Listened to my house. Inspected. Tinkered. Maneuvered. Called a pro. I didn't turn into Grey Gardens. Trees came close to my house. I had them cut before they grew into my house. A raccoon came in my house. I had him evicted. 

Beautification: new paint, new floors, new windows, new landscaping, new trees, new flowers.

Neighborhood: became a member of my community. Neighbors know me. Look out for me. Depend on me. Smile when they see me. Except for Bill's kids who are dicks. 

Defense: defended my home against a violent drug and arms dealer who moved in next door. Leaned on him, enlisted law enforcement, got him evicted. 

A Gathering Place. Parties. Dinners. Brunches. Poetry Readings. Play rehearsals. Yoga studio. Concert Venue. A hostel. My home became a hearth for food and art and artists and hurting people and happy people.

My sanctuary: with my dog and my cat in our cozy nest. I cooked for myself, I camped in my back yard, I planned travel, I worked, I looked for work, I read books, I wrote poems, I wrote plays, I wrote songs, I wrote books, I wrote journals, I wrote letters, I dreamt, I wept, I dried the tears of friends, I laughed, I loved, I stumbled, I got up, I nurtured, I lost, I forgave, I remembered, I learned, I believed.

Saturday my nearly decade-long partner, Larry, moves in with Abby and me. It's been in the works a while now, over a year. This past week, I've relished every moment in my house, doing nothing particularly special, except enjoying the hygge I have been creating for many years now.

 How have I been Mad MOzElle-ing? With homemade mini pizzas and brownies and red wine and watching Food Network and playing with my cat and purging and cleaning and relaxing and reflecting and luxuriating. 

Last night I reflected on the life I built here and why I built it, and how I stayed and why I stayed. 

Fourteen years. I remember my very first night alone. I cooked, cleaned my kitchen, watched TV, and wrote, and I remember it feeling right and free. 

I reflected on the phases of my life and the people who have come and gone, and the ones who never left and said thank you to it all.

I am leaving behind a certain part of my life, a certain part of me. 

I said thank you to the me of that phase of my life. 

I said to that self, well played, self, well played.