I can’t keep searching for someone else to fill what’s missing inside me.
I straighten on the bench. A surge of empowerment washes over me despite the strength of my hangover.
Since men are my drug of choice, and the source of all my poor decisions, there’s really only one place to start.
I’ll need to take a vow of celibacy.
The thought both terrifies me and thrills me. If I want to find myself, I can’t keep using guys to distract me. I’ll need to quit them. Not forever, just until I learn not to use them as validation.
How long does it take to find yourself?
I frown. At least a year I’d think. I nibble my lower lip.
Yes, I can do this. A year without men. I’ll be like that Sex in the City episode I’d watched on HBOGo where Carrie decides to date New York.
But instead of Chicago, I’ll date myself.
I’ll take myself out. I’ll read on the beach. Go to concerts. Movies. Spend time with my girlfriends. Discover new hobbies. Concentrate on my career. Go to yoga.
I look up into the sky. The sun is rising, all fiery red orange, breaking across a billboard. A picture of a beach, a tropical drink, and a hotel with the words, Come to Belize, scrolling across them.
I suck in a breath and something niggles inside me.
I could travel. By myself.
That would be daring. What better way to start out a year of celibate, self-discovery than with a solo trip? I could do it. I have plenty of vacation time and my boss loves me. She’s always trying to get me to take more time off.
I could leave tomorrow.
I’d be entirely by myself. I can think. Plan. Look out on the horizon and reflect on my choices. Figure out who I am instead of using some guy to define me.
Yes, Belize, I will come to you.
Ashley May Hill, you are on your way. By this time next week I’ll be a brand new person.
Someone better. Stronger. And, most important, male-free.
Two
Ashley
“You’re where!” My best girlfriend Tessa Jordon screeches into my ear.
In my most calm tone I say, “I’m in Belize.”
Yes. I’ve done it. Thirty-two hours after my revelation on the park bench I’m sitting on the patio of the hotel from the billboard drinking a pi?a colada, cell phone to ear, watching the waves break over the sand.
Before I’d left, I hadn’t told anyone my plans, because I hadn’t wanted anyone to talk me out of it. Except for my boss to let her know I wouldn’t be in to work, I hadn’t made a single call until I sat down in the lounge, drink in hand.
“Oh my god, are you with the hot doctor you went home with?” Tessa, she knows me far too well, and jaunting off to a tropical paradise with a hookup is exactly something I’d do.
An image of Christopher with his head between my legs fills my mind and a shiver races along my skin. I ignore it. These kinds of thoughts aren’t helpful if I’m going to keep my vow of celibacy.
“No. I’m by myself.” I take a sip of the frosty coconut-and-rum concoction that’s probably a gazillion calories. Instinctive fear for my waistline washes over me, but I brush off the distress. I don’t have to care about calories. Men are off the table, who cares if my stomach gets a little bloated.
Besides I’m on vacation. With the balmy breeze blowing across my skin, I’m not going to worry about such trivial matters. I can work on my abs in my free time when I’m back at home. I’ll have plenty of it.
Another high-pitched scream. “You took off for Belize by yourself?”
“Yep.” The word is simple and exact. Because, fuck yeah, I did! I took charge. I made a change and I went for it.
Okay, yes, I’ll admit it’s a little weird to be sitting here by myself. I’m totally out of my comfort zone, but that’s a good thing. I read somewhere that all change happens outside your comfort zone so I must be on the right track.
It will just take some getting used to.
“But why?” Tessa asks, the surprise in her tone clear.
I take another sip of my drink before squinting down at the beach littered with people. I need to get down to the little cabana I’d rented. Maybe I’ll even take a nap. I never get to take naps.
“Ashley!”
The shriek of my name rips me away from my relaxation planning. For a girl that’s always on the go, figuring out how to do nothing requires some forethought.
I return to the subject at hand. “What’s wrong with Belize? Ever since I read Eat Pray Love I’ve been dying to come. I had vacation time and got an impulse.”
It’s partially true. When I’d read the book I marveled at the author’s bravery and told myself I could never go anywhere like that alone.
I’m proving myself wrong.
“You don’t even want to go to the bathroom alone,” Tessa says.
It’s true. It all stems from an irrational fear if I get comfortable being alone, I’ll end up alone, abandoned, with nobody to love me.
So here I am, changing my limiting beliefs. Go me.