- When I was a teenager, my parents were divorced and dating new people.
- My 13-year-old told me while I was dating someone new that he wasn't ready for it.
- I want to give my kids my undivided attention during these tumultuous years as teens.
The last man I dated was the best. A month into seeing him, I regretted every situationship and almost-relationship I'd ever given time to. My friends gushed over his enthusiastic texts, all heart emojis and exclamation points. My mother's eager refrain became, "When can we meet Seth?"
A single parent since my kids' infancy, I didn't think I'd still be single when they reached their teen years. Every Christmas, I wondered whether the following year, there would be an extra place at our table, a seat for the partner I thought I'd eventually meet. I dated casually over the years, but no one I met was worth making room in our lives.
My teenage son made me realize what my kids needed
Seth was the closest I'd come. He was honest and enthusiastic, he made me a priority in his already busy life, and he recognized and celebrated my hard work. I even considered bringing him to my friend's wedding. I imagined slow dancing under ambient lighting, introducing him to my longtime friends, and meeting their eyes with knowing smiles.
But reluctance tugged at me through all of our dates, from sundaes at Franklin Fountain to tacos off Broad Street. On nights when we made plans, it felt like a drag to leave my house. "I'd rather write," I thought, "or order a pizza and play Uno with the kids." I felt guilty for my amorphous doubts over what I thought I was supposed to want.
"Are you dating Seth?" my 13-year-old son asked while we drank hot chocolate at a café up the block, his eyebrows knit together.
I told him I wasn't sure but wanted to know why he was asking. He looked like he was chewing over words he was dying to spit out. Finally, he shrugged and said: "I'm not ready for anyone to join our family. I like it just us."
My parents dated other people when I was a teen
Realization crashed over me. My son didn't want the change that would accompany a new person in our life, and I didn't want the balance of our family thrown off when we'd only just gotten it back.
In 2020, my daughter was diagnosed with cancer, and her years of treatment lay like a shadow over our lives. Now that she's in remission, we're able to relax into some stability. My son knew what I'd been carrying but couldn't name it. Seth was a great guy, but even a great guy could upend a ship we'd only just righted.
In my own teenage years, my parents were newly divorced, and their dating lives were a boulder in the river of my adolescence. The most uncomfortable years of my life were made even harder by my parents' diverted attention and competing priorities.
By giving my kids uncompromised focus and making these years of change and growth my priority, I'm giving them something I spent years of my life aching for.
I broke up with him to focus on my kids
After I ended things with Seth, a friend cautioned me about feeling differently in 10 years, on the other side of 40, "when my prospects might be more limited." I reassured them that the idea of aging without a partner didn't scare me. I've spent most of my adulthood raising kids, and time on my own someday sounds lovely.
I don't want the fear of the what-ifs to bully me into a good relationship. I want it to be something I choose because it works, because the timing is right, and because I want it as much as I want the rest of my life. Right now, the risks of dating outweigh the benefits. Until my kids are on the other side of their teenage years, I won't be bringing anyone new into our fold.
Seth understood. We parted amicably, and even his last text, a check-in after a few weeks of silence, was all praise. He's a great guy, the best, but right now, I'm just not interested.
