A friend once described to me the depth of her Sunday Lonelies. Sunday, being a typical family day, was a challenge for those of us who were single, away from our families, and childless, and didn’t wish to be so. You could try brunch and TV movies and keeping yourself busy with tasks for the week ahead, but those Sunday Lonelies lurked, culminating in that pit in your stomach and overall numbness that just bordered on tears.
When she and I discussed this, I had recently ended a bad relationship and was smack dab in the middle of “what now?” I am a planner, a plan had just dismantled in very dramatic fashion, and I was just left floating around. In a constant state of Sunday Lonelies.
I realized how much time I had spent in that relationship, and others before and since, that so closely mirrored that Sunday Lonelies feeling. Not even just with men, but at various times when I would tie myself to groups of women, never feeling secure that they really wanted to be my friend, saw me as worthy of being a part of them. I vividly felt so many times that feeling in the pit of my stomach saying, urging, I don’t want to be here. That feeling was so much lonelier, somehow, when it happened among other people.
I was thinking about this as I was reading a book to my little girl. I smiled and looked down at her. The truth is, my Sunday Lonelies ended when I met Scott. I think in some small way that’s how I knew he was THE ONE, as they say. I never feel lonely around him. I never get bored of him.
And now, of course, Sunday IS family day. And I cherish that. But as I looked down at my daughter, I wondered: how do I tell her that if she gets that feeling, that lonely feeling, she’s in the wrong crowd, she’s with the wrong person? Would I have understood that and taken it to heart if someone had told me long ago? The me who was so positive I was unlovable, unkeepable, uninteresting? I hope with all my might Wee ‘Burb will never feel that way about herself, but I also understand the world and a growing girl’s often uncomfortable place in it. So instead I will just hope she finds someone who makes those Sunday Lonelies disappear.
When she and I discussed this, I had recently ended a bad relationship and was smack dab in the middle of “what now?” I am a planner, a plan had just dismantled in very dramatic fashion, and I was just left floating around. In a constant state of Sunday Lonelies.
I realized how much time I had spent in that relationship, and others before and since, that so closely mirrored that Sunday Lonelies feeling. Not even just with men, but at various times when I would tie myself to groups of women, never feeling secure that they really wanted to be my friend, saw me as worthy of being a part of them. I vividly felt so many times that feeling in the pit of my stomach saying, urging, I don’t want to be here. That feeling was so much lonelier, somehow, when it happened among other people.
I was thinking about this as I was reading a book to my little girl. I smiled and looked down at her. The truth is, my Sunday Lonelies ended when I met Scott. I think in some small way that’s how I knew he was THE ONE, as they say. I never feel lonely around him. I never get bored of him.
And now, of course, Sunday IS family day. And I cherish that. But as I looked down at my daughter, I wondered: how do I tell her that if she gets that feeling, that lonely feeling, she’s in the wrong crowd, she’s with the wrong person? Would I have understood that and taken it to heart if someone had told me long ago? The me who was so positive I was unlovable, unkeepable, uninteresting? I hope with all my might Wee ‘Burb will never feel that way about herself, but I also understand the world and a growing girl’s often uncomfortable place in it. So instead I will just hope she finds someone who makes those Sunday Lonelies disappear.
10 comments:
Beautifully written. I totally know what you mean about that loneliness Sunday can bring. I felt the same way back in my single years.
I too hope our daughters won't have to experience that feeling.
I remember watching couples together at brunch any day of the week and it bothered me when I sat at the bar, eating alone. I was never really brave enough to do that too often - I became a master at carrying out instead.
Great post. You said exactly what I used to think far more eloquently than I ever could.
I have always hated Sundays. Now that I am a mom, I don't mind them as much but I hated Sundays for years. I don't think we can protect our children from that feeling (as much as we try). We can only hope that they are able to find that special person who helps them to banish it themselves.
My Sunday lonelies ended when I met my husband too. Sundays are our favorite day to just cuddle up and enjoy each others company. We even try to get as many errands and whatnot done as we can on Saturday so that we can just enjoy each other, the dog, and the day. Our thing is to take our dog to the dog park and get ice cream or Italian ices and just walk and talk. I look forward to our Sundays every week.
I think that people don't discuss the Sunday blues nearly enough! I'm COMPLETELY with you though - once I started seeing Marcus, they absolutely disappeared. Go figure, right?
This is so interesting, how pervasive this really is! You're so right, Tenaciously, people don't talk about it enough. I was in my 20s before I had this talk with my friend. I had no idea that pit in my stomach had a name and a real feeling.
I know I wouldn't have paid attention if I'd been told. But I look back at those Sunday Lonelies and wonder how I didn't know better.
That said, Saturdays alone were always awesome. It's just Sunday alone that gets you. Great thought to start the day.
Although . . . I would suggest that having experienced those moments of profound loneliness and disconnection made you better able to appreciate the opposite when it arrived.
I know that for me, a long history of always feeling apart made the experience of connecting with my husband that much more joyous.
And so for my children I wish the wisdom to recognize the bad and then appreciate the better when it arrives.
I would hate for the better to arrive before they are ready to see it for what it is.
Kris
I never thought of it like that, but now that you describe the Sunday Lonelies, that's exactly how I felt. I often filled that time napping or shopping, but I remember feeling very sad and very alone. I hope our girls don't have to face that feeling.
Wow, you did a great job defining something I have felt for years! Now Jonathan and I curl up with the DVR on Sundays and it's wonderful, but I can definitely remember when I was alone with my Lonelies.
Hopefully Wee Burb will know how wonderful her parents are and how she can always call you up on any ole Sunday she pleases. :)
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