So, I joined OkCupid recently, just using the free program because why would I pay? Not having much luck there. I also went ahead and subscribed to eharmony, since paid programs sometimes attract more committed folks. Not much luck there either.
Why am I doing this? Why, when I know only 5% of autistic adults ever marry. When I’m getting to an age where the pickings are slim, and it’s showing. Heck, only half of all adults with autism even get out of their parents’ house. I should consider myself lucky to have a job, let alone wanting to strike out on my own and (heaven forbid) find love and acceptance like a well-adjusted adult.
Well, I’m doing it because I have to. I just feel a drive that now is the time to find someone. Now is the time to get out of my parents’ house. Now is the time to get my career going. I’m 36. Time is running out.
Sure, I’m young, but I’m worried about what my future will look like if I continue to dawdle.
In that sense, I’m looking forward to the rejection in my dating life. It shows I’m making progress. Every no from one woman gets me one step closer to a yes from the right woman.
In the same vein, I’ve been building a business as an independent grant-writer and working on a fantasy novel. (Perhaps you’ve heard of it?) Once I get my final bits of feedback, I’ll give it one final look-through then it’s off to the agents.
The odds of a first-time author, especially in the field of epic fantasy, getting an agent are low. The odds of that first book making it all the way from an agent’s desk to a bookstore shelf are lower than…the odds of me ever marrying.
So why bother?
Because it’s my dream. It’s my calling. God wants me to write. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have given me the gift of story-telling. And since nobody in Atlanta wants to hire a storyteller, publishing a book is my best shot at getting paid for my passion.
Looking forward to the rejection there too. There’s going to be a lot, and that’s ok.
“Oh, you’re just being negative. Just be patient! God has a plan!”
Yeah, well. If I waited on God to do anything, I’d still be sitting in my bedroom playing video games instead of updating my blog at Starbucks. God will in God’s time. In the meantime, I have to do what I can.
Of course, this doesn’t mean I don’t rely on God. I do. I have to.
I’ve heard that if God is the hitter, I’m the pitcher. My job is to keep pitching, keep striving, until God hits one out of the park. Which he will, I am assured.
Only sometimes it feels more like the game is soccer, and God’s the goalkeeper, keeping me from scoring.
Both those analogies are wrong.
It’s not that I’m the pitcher, and he’s the hitter, or I’m the running back, and he’s the goalkeeper.
God is the running back. I’m the ball. I need to submit to his will, and all will unfold as it should. But the ball must roll.