This is why you’re still single

I just spent an hour researching the search term, “why you’re still alone.” I’ve never seen a topic riddled with more apathetic answers devoid of encouraging people to take personal responsibility in all the years I’ve been blogging.  Here’s a sample of what I found during that hour of my life that I’ll never get back:

“You just haven’t found the right person yet.”

“You’re being selective – it’s a good thing.”

“You have standards.”

“You’ve been hurt and you’re defensive but it’s ok.

“You haven’t made it a priority.”

“Real connections are rare.”

Really?

So I guess I have to be the bearer of truth and tell you the truth about why you’re still single.

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Forty. Fucking. Nine.

And just like that, I blinked and hit the big four nine.  You’d think at my age I wouldn’t feel compelled to announce it. Would, perhaps, be more content to fly under the radar, requiring those who wonder to Google it.  

I won’t deny that I thought about keeping quiet. I hate the self-indulgence of publishing a ‘me’ story. I get a good amount of attention. I don’t need a parade on my birthday.

But then a little voice inside my head questioned whether I was playing into a female stereotype:

The ‘aging’ woman who buys into the expectation that with each passing year, she will fade and become a little more invisible.

And that’s all it took to get my inner rebel stirred up.

Here’s what I think about entering the last year of my 40’s and facing down fifty.

Holy shit. I can’t believe I just wrote that.

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