Introduction:
I was born February 14, 1971. That’s right, Valentine’s Day, the official
day of love. I should have some special insight on love and dating. I should be floating through life in a
perpetual state of euphoria with the perfect man by my side. Cupid himself should be channeling his matchmaking
skills through me so I could help all women find their true love.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t born with any unique ability to seek out fairytale love
for anyone, including myself.
I am the token single girl in my
group of friends but I didn’t always hold this title. I was involved in two long-term relationships
in my twenties and even got engaged at the age of twenty-eight. I thought the
rest of my life was going to be wonderful.
How could I not? My fiancée was
my best friend, a date for every occasion and a gift giver on holidays,
including my birthday. I had
companionship, security and what I thought was everlasting love. My happily-ever-after came to a screeching
halt six months before my wedding day. I
realized that I would be happier single than being married to an alcoholic.
Not being married with at least one child
by the time I turned thirty freaked me out but I got through it. Like everyone else, I assumed that being
single was just temporary. I met a
couple of potential husbands but luckily I stopped ignoring the red flags and
walked, more like ran, away from disaster.
I suppressed my urge to panic and continued to search for the right man
for me. I was frustrated with being single
as I fumbled through the horrible world of dating. It took years but I came to terms with the
possibility that I may NEVER find the right man. I embraced my single status and truly enjoyed
my lifestyle but it wasn’t easy. As a
matter of fact, it was one of the most difficult things I ever had to do. For some reason, people couldn't comprehend how I could possibly be happy with living a lonely life. I assured them that I wasn't lonely but that only made them question my mental stability. Clearly, there was something wrong with me.
At some
point, I fell for society’s belief that there was something wrong with me and
sought out professional help. Being
single and comfortable with idea of never getting married wasn’t normal. I was supposed to be desperately searching
for a husband not just dating for the fun of it. Trust me, dating wasn’t always fun but I did
find enjoyment in some aspects of it. Or
did I? Maybe I was fooling myself to
believe that I could live a fulfilling life alone? Maybe I was depressed or even deranged and
didn’t even know it! I got tired of
defending my lifestyle and made an appointment with a therapist. I needed someone to help me understand what I
was obviously missing.
