“You have to test drive the car before you buy it.” These are the sage words of wisdom my Catholic mother shared with me on the way to my first gynecologist appointment. It wasn’t my idea to go, but at 17, with a month to go before leaving for college, she was insistent on two things: a pap smear and birth control. While I wasn’t yet sexually active, my mother was a smart lady who had seen it all before.

You see, my mom is a registered nurse for an OBGYN practice, and has been for the last 21 years. Growing up, she had plenty of stories that would scare the pants right back on you. In junior high, she would regale me with stories of 12 and 13 year old girls who were pregnant. When I got to high school, the stories turned to 16 and 17 year old girls who had so many kids they wanted their tubes tied. When I was in college, it was the girls who left for spring break and came back with herpes, VD, or genital warts, (and she included graphic details about how they remove them, if they can.)

Before we ever stepped foot in the gynecologist’s office, my mom covered the basics of the option she thought was best for me then, the pill. At the time, I didn’t understand why she was so adamant about it. But when I got to college and began dating, it became crystal clear, and I was so thankful for her knowledge and support. While my friends had pregnancy scares and Plan B runs, or had to hide their pills over holiday breaks, I never had to worry about her opinion of me, or about morals and values standing in the way of our relationship. Being able to talk openly about my sexual health and identity brought us closer together.

I won’t lie and say this part of our relationship has always been comfortable or lecture free. I don’t know anyone who wants to talk to his or her mom about STI testing after finding out your boyfriend was cheating. Or who is comfortable knowing mom has access to your personal medical chart at all times, since your GYN is a partner in her office. There were times I debated whether or not to be honest with my physician, knowing that my mom could read something I hadn’t specifically told her (for what it’s worth, I was honest with my physician and took the risk of her finding out. My personal health is more important than that). And yes, I know these are things I could easily change, but the benefits of this brand of motherly advice outweigh the negatives that sometimes result.

Now that I am older and in a serious, committed relationship, the talks have turned from STIs and accidental pregnancy, to how to get pregnant and the 27 year old she saw in the office last week for infertility treatments. She knows my partner and I do not want kids for a few years yet, but it’s not her style to let a teachable moment pass without comment.

In the meantime, I am looking for next form of birth control, of course, with the help of mom. She’s making a case for Implanon, and I’m thinking of an IUD. I’m not sure yet what my partner and I will decide on, but I know who I can always turn to for great advice.

Single can take on a lot of meanings. You can have a single room. You can play a singles game of tennis. But it seems the context you hear it in most, is dating. Now, for some reason that escapes me, when you are single, everyone from your grandma to the cashier at the pharmacy wants to give you relationship advice. I know they mean well, and they are trying to help, but somehow the advice usually comes off as offensive and harsh. If you’re going to give advice to the single, (and I implore you not to) please, don’t say any version of these:

“There’s a lot of fish in the sea.”  I’ve heard this. You’ve heard this.  We’ve all heard, this or some other version of this platitude. (“You have to kiss a lot of frogs.” or “Someday you’ll meet the right one.” are popular variations.) But here’s the thing. When you heard this, did it really make you feel any better? No! If there are so many fish out there, why can’t I find a keeper? And what if I don’t want to kiss any more frogs? This is one of those things we say because someone has said it to us before. It feels like the appropriate thing to do, but it’s not. Instead, keep it to yourself and offer your friend a drink, or a high five.

“Maybe you’re being too picky.” Really? I don’t think so. If you’re looking for someone you’re going to hopefully spend the next 30 to 50 years of your life with, day in and day out, with bad hair and bad breath, and maybe a night guard, you want to be darn sure you are going to think they are the cutest darn bad breathed, bad haired, mouth breathing individual you ever saw, or else you just might go crazy. If you can’t be picky about your life mate, what can you be picky about? Now, I’m not saying it’s fair to write someone off for liking Crest over Colgate, but if that’s an absolute deal breaker for you, that’s your prerogative, and no one can tell you otherwise.

“You’re driven, funny, intelligent, fill-in-the-blank amazing attribute! Why are you still single?” This makes me feel like Bridget Jones, where I want to respond with something like, “ Well the hump on my back seems to keep getting in the way.” Just because someone is single does not mean there is something wrong with them, and if you could refrain from implying so, that would be great. Feel free to tell them how great they are and follow it with, “And I am so glad you’re my friend.” instead of adding an insult to what should have been a compliment.

“As soon as you stop looking, someone will come along.” Yes, but if you’re not looking, how will you find someone? Instead of telling someone they’re going about their search all wrong, why not indirectly help them instead? Invite your friend to a dinner party, where there are single people they haven’t met before that they might hit it off with. Or ask them to try a new painting class, or try a new restaurant in your neighborhood. Exposure to new places, people, and things is a great way to be happy, strengthen your friendship, and help them meet people outside their usual circles. It’s not a guarantee and it’s not a set up. It’s an opportunity for serendipity to step in and hopefully make things happen.

I think these are my top four gripes about advice I’ve received when I was single. Avoiding variants of losing/gaining weight, hairstyle, career choice, and biological clock would also be appreciated. If someone is going to love you, they are going to love you exactly as you are, and you won’t need to change anything about yourself to be happy.

I am happily coupled and have been for a while now. But I still have to remind myself that things can change at any time, and that whether it was me who was single, or if I am talking to my single friends, there are things that are better left unsaid.

There are 12 months in a year, and 4 seasons in that time frame (well, 4 seasons for most of us).  Everyone seems to have a favorite season; don’t be ashamed to admit it! While I always try to have a good attitude about life and enjoy the moment I am in, it seems so much easier to have a positive, pleasant attitude in spring.

In fact, I don’t just have a good attitude in spring. I love spring! Well, I do now, anyways. There was a definite time when I didn’t feel this way. I formerly was a bonafide spring hater. In college, I could come up with a laundry list of reasons spring was almost worse than winter (almost, but not quite!) I had hay fever and allergies, midterm tests, there were tornadoes and hailstorms, and kids tearing down the street on their bicycles. Even at that time, though, I had to admit my hatred of spring had nothing to with the pathetic reasons I told everyone else. I hated spring because it seemed that the whole world was coupled up or hooking up…while I was, um, not.

Spring is the time of mating and fornicating. The birds are doing it. The bees are doing it. And so are the horny kids on every college campus across the nation. The days are longer, so there is time to linger outside after beach volleyball with that cute guy from chemistry class. The weather is warmer, and pants turn into dresses, turn into micro mini skirts. While the guys just go without shirts. Women are tanning, frisbees are flying, and the hormones are so thick in the air over the quad, you practically choke on them.

With all that loving feeling flying around, it was hard not to get swept up in it. I tried. Really, I did. I flirted. I flounced. I painted my toenails, and tried to look the part of an effortless party goddess like my friends. It wasn’t that no one took an interest in me. It’s just that somehow my plans never came together. While my girlfriends in long term relationships were spooning on a rowboat in the middle of the lake, and my single gals were making out in the bars, I was studying for finals with my fish and HP. And looking forward to summer.

Maybe it was the vibe I put off. After a bad break up at 18, I realized casual sex just wasn’t good for me. I think maybe the guys could sense that the easy lay wasn’t going to happen with me, so they kept shopping. Maybe it was my bookish nature. I liked to go out and have a good time, but I also had big plans for graduate school, and partying too hard didn’t bode well for maintaining my GPA. Or maybe our sun signs were off. Who knows?

I can’t say why I wasn’t involved in a spring fling, but I can say what changed my mind about spring. Confidence. Being comfortable in my own skin, and knowing I was beautiful whether I had a partner or not. I learned to stop basing my feelings on the external cues I received from others, and started listening to the ones inside me. I danced when I wanted to. I sang along with Pink! on my car radio, and I didn’t care who was watching. I cut my hair. I spent too much time blaming spring for my unhappiness, and those days are gone. Today I embrace spring and the new life, energy, and puppies it brings my way!