Plus None

I recently received an invitation to a friend's Christmas Eve party. This is my fifth year being invited. It's a great time — delicious food, lovely wine, wonderful company, all concluding with the demolition and consumption of a well-adorned gingerbread house. And, for the first time ever, I responded: "Maybe."

It's getting more and more difficult for me to go to festivities like these while flying solo. You see, I don't have the company of my boy over Christmas. I'm Jewish so he's with his dad. Many moons ago my lawyer told me that when parents are of different religions, it makes holiday wrangling a whole lot easier. However, I had been celebrating Christmas since 1994 with my ex, and since 2002 with E. Now December 25th really holds no significance for me (except that I get to hear from E what over-the-top gifts his dad has bought him).

And it's not just Christmas. I just don't enjoy going to family-type events by myself. Even though most of my friends are happily married, I don't have any problem attending as a single parent. But if the occasion happens to fall on a weekend when my boy is at his dad’s, I am more than likely going to make a quick exit…or not come at all.

I know that a lot of what I'm feeling is in my head. But it makes me uncomfortable to be all alone and surrounded by wives, husbands and kids. When E is there I feel like I belong. I know that I am my own person; nevertheless, when your identity has been "E's mom" for so very long, you can't help think that about yourself as well. People ask me, "Where's E?" "Oh, at his dad’s this weekend," I reply. As many times as I say it, it just doesn't get easier.

Non-kid events aren't exempt from this either. The spring after I was separated, I was invited to a friend's wedding. I mulled over that reply envelope for a long time. I knew that I would be sitting at a table with high school friends — none of whom knew about my relationship status. I dreaded having to explain why my ex was not there, and I felt embarrassed at the prospect of it all. I explained this situation to a friend and she put these words of wisdom into my head, "Do you really want to even go to a wedding right now? It might not be the best idea to watch people lovingly commit themselves to each other." Well, that sealed the deal. The regrets went back the next day and I non-guiltily ordered some great gifts from their registry.

I'm still contemplating that Christmas Eve party. It really is a fun time. Here's the kicker, though…after I'm sated with food and drink and warm feelings, I have to walk into an empty apartment. I know — I've been walking into an empty apartment every other weekend for three years now so I should be used to it by now. Don't get me wrong; sometimes it's great to come home to peace and quiet. I revel in the solitude as I watch the Food Network. Then there are those evenings where the quiet seems so big and overwhelming, and I just head off to bed early. I feel comfortable being alone and in my own space, although that does not mean it necessarily feels right all the time.

Does this mean I am going to reject every invitation that comes my way? Not at all. But my friends understand that as much as I enjoy their company, sometimes it is better for me to have no company at all. I may just wind up spending Christmas Eve by myself. And that’s okay. This year it might be better for me to sit on the couch with a big bowl of pasta and an old movie. Next year I might be fighting kids for a chunk of the gingerbread roof. I am (slowly but surely) learning to figure out what is good for me and to follow through on that the best I can.

And when E comes back into town, you can be sure we will attend all the remaining festivities for 2009. He's a great date — handsome, sweet and funny. Even when he's asleep in the back of the car, I know that my apartment won't feel so alone that night. So, that New Year's Day brunch? Put me down as a "Yes." Oh, yeah…and plus one.

Author: Stacey Linden