FBM

Ok, so if you've been paying attention you know that I'm the queen of commitment issues. I've held steadfast to singlehood, running faster than a speeding bullet away from situations in which the first signs of relationship-ness were even hinted at. I've even been known to cause fights to get out of relationshipy-type situations.

But then, if you've been paying attention, you also know that recently I decided to let my guard down and give this whole commitment thing a whirl (gasp)! It's been a few months now and just when I was starting to get comfortable with that idea I was chucked back into the deep dark place within my psyche that only knows one word - RUN.

I was called the "FBM." By him.

Now, I'm fairly certain some of you out there just started lol-ing (yes I said it) but for those of you who don't know what that means (it took me a minute), here it is:

Future. Baby. Mama.

Uh oh.

When I was actually able to stop choking on the cheeseburger I was chewing at the time, I talked myself down from the ledge and out of changing my phone number and deleting my social media accounts. I even laughed about the term (it was a joke right? Right?) and then allowed myself just the teeniest thought of what it would be like to someday be that person.

Single Jen, meet Relationship Jen. This could get interesting.