**Editor’s note: As part of our ongoing effort to feature new and exciting voices to our growing and ever-evolving digital space, Northend Agent’s is pleased to be able to feature personal narratives in our new column: FirstPerson.
Please allow me to introduce myself…
If you’re reading this, there’s a great chance that you’re one of the 10 people who know me already. However, if you’re one of the unsuspecting strangers who needed a little fluff reading while drinking your coffee, hiding from your kids, or avoiding your coworkers in your cubicle, I’m Belle. Is that the name printed on my yellow Alabama birth certificate? Absolutely not. But for your reading pleasure, and to protect the innocent and embarrassing, we’re going to stick with Belle. For years, my commentary on the rollercoaster that is my life has been a source of comic relief and entertainment for my social media family. I was encouraged to do what any self respecting millennial does, instead of sharing my car crash of a life with a few familiar followers, why not share with complete strangers. So here we are.
A few facts about me, I’m 31, I found out that the DMV frowns upon people who put ageless beauty in the date of birth section. I’m black, just in case me writing for the Northend Agent didn’t tip you off. I ‘m a full time student again after deciding a career in education didn’t suit me at all. I’m also VERY SINGLE. In 2014, after a big holiday breakup, I decided that after years of being a perpetual long term girlfriend, I was going to do what so many women dread having to do after 30. I had to… Date. I thought, ‘this should be fun and easy’; and that, by the year’s end, I will have found my soul mate; and by Christmas I should be flashing around my 2.5 carat flawless pear shaped ring, all the while, annoying people with my obnoxious proposal story. Well kids, that was not my 2015, and the way things are going it’s unlikely that it will be my 2016. I’ve been on dates galore this year and instead of it feeling like a Black Manolo-free version of Sex and the City, it felt more like third class passenger during the last 45 minutes of Titanic.
Throughout this journey you’ll hear tales of my life in limbo, and especially my dating trials and tribulations. Most are funny, some are sad, and the rest are head scratchers. This column is part diary and the rest, an ever unfolding memoir. I’m hoping that throughout it, you’ll laugh or, at the very least, smile and see a little bit of yourself within it.
Until next time.