I sat on a stool next to the kitchen counter and drank a glass of water, while their dog perched in my lap. The almost 4 hour drive left me thirsty. It had been a full two weeks back in my Illinois hometown. I could scarcely wrap my mind around the trip's conclusion but here I was at my friends' house in Urbana. My road trip oasis. A respite before driving the rest of the way to Nashville.

Kristin put away the dishes in the dishwasher while Jason cleaned up from dinner. It was a breathtaking dance to watch, their seamless habits not thrown off in the least by a late night guest. We chatted about our respective Christmas celebrations and caught up on life. I love spending time with Jason and Kristin for such simple reasons. Fancy drinks, stimulating conversation about politics and religion, sharing books we've read and music we're listening to. Each time I leave, I wish we lived closer. They are my people and I am theirs.

We adjourned to the living room and discussed writing while Kristin folded laundry and Jason read a magazine. I was pleased we could be these kinds of friends. I was welcomed into lives well lived, the chores and Kristin’s daughters trading bedrooms upstairs and the usual Saturday evening routine.

Eventually, after a lively discussion on gun control, we retired for the evening. I tucked myself away in the spare room and emerged in the morning not overly bright-eyed but rested nonetheless.

The kitchen dance had resumed itself. Jason was preparing pumpkin pancakes, using a pumpkin puree he’d made. Kristin made the coffee and then brewed tea for me. They embody give-and-take. Their relationship is beautiful to witness, perhaps all the more knowing this is a second marriage for each. My bleary morning mind took in this egalitarian scene. I thought, “I want that some day.”

And then I thought, “I probably wouldn’t be here if I was married.”

I sipped my breakfast tea and talked about pie pumpkin preparation with Jason. I sampled a pancake and it was so delicious, I wished I was more of a breakfast person. All too soon, it was time to drive onward.

I don’t hide the fact I want to get married or that I’m reveling in my life as an unmarried person. Each side has its gifts and perks. Each side takes work, some ways more obvious than others. Neither is a prescription for automatic happiness.

I look at Jason and Kristin’s marriage and it speaks to me of my own possible future but I can’t ignore that which allows me to see them in the first place: my singleness.

Sharing my life with someone means exactly that: sharing. My schedule will no longer be entirely my own. Decisions will be filtered through the lens of our relationship. Not everything will change and I will work hard to maintain my top priorities but there will still be an impact.

If I was married, would I have been able to go home for Christmas for two weeks? If I had, would we have flown or driven? And if we drove, would we have taken turns driving back to Nashville instead of staying the night with friends? Would said friends be able to accommodate a married couple, instead of just me?

Let’s back up even further than that. During those two weeks, would my husband want to hang out with a lifetime’s worth of friends? Would all of these friends want to share their only time with me with someone else?

{Theoretically, yes. However, friendships need solo time interspersed with significant others and children. My trips back home are rarely long enough to do that with everyone.}

Everyone starts out single. We don’t question if people are called to marriage and we’re not always at the top of our games if and when marriages end due to divorce or death. We need to be good stewards no matter what our marital status is. One is not better than the other. Both statuses are good and to be treasured.

Because I’m single, I’ve focused on developing a rich community. My family extends far beyond those related to me by blood. Friends in my hometown, friends here, friends all over the country. My freedom as a single woman allows me to pour into these relationships even still. I don’t always do it perfectly- after all, there’s no one helping me with the dishes or paying the bills. I don’t have more time than those who are married; I don’t have to factor the needs of anyone else when it comes to making plans. Relationships are my calling.

I’m taking advantage of this gift. And it is good.

This post was originally published at A Deeper Family.