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A Middle Aged Rant

I am single.

I’ve never had a husband.

I’ve never given birth to a child.

I’ve never lived with a man over six months.

I am 54.

I’m not classically pretty.

I’m overweight.

I’m not very tall.

My brother says I’m a unicorn.

My friends are kind enough not to make me feel small.

My mother mentions in passing that she wants me to find a husband.

I try not to be sad about my state.

I’ve lived a life that some would find enviable.

I had my dream job, met and interviewed great people, made great friends, and traveled all over the world.

I have a new career that I find oddly fulfilling.

Men don’t always like that.

Some of them are jealous because I’m not easily impressed.

Some are jealous because I’ve done things they haven’t.

Some are jealous because I’ve lived on both coasts.

I don’t know what to do.

I can’t change my life – not that I want to.

I can’t change my past – not that I want to.

I can’t change myself –not that I want to.

I just want someone to see me, not the image I present.

I want someone to care enough to look past the stuff to see my heart.

I wonder if it’s too late.

I wonder if I’ll ever be chosen.

I wonder if I’ll ever be loved wholly by someone’s son.

I wonder if I was so busy living that I forgot to build a life.

I attended a funeral today. The deceased was a family friend who also happens to be the sister of my brother’s baby mama. She was found in her car, dead of an overdose at 42. To say that she was the victim of unfortunate circumstances is a gross understatement that I won’t bother to get into here. During the remarks section, it was said that she’d been a wife and a mother. Everyone there seemed to agree that gave her life meaning.

Far be it from me to knock the logic – especially if it helps ease the family’s grief – but it made me feel some kinda way. If I believe that you’re only as good as the humans you produce and the fact that someone chose to love you enough to change your last name, then it stands to reason that I have and am nothing. That just doesn’t sit well with me.

To be clear, I don’t begrudge anyone their spouses or children. I know how to celebrate the happiness of others even when I’m in various states of despair. But sometimes the voices in my head are just too loud and I find myself drowning.

***No one can love you…no one wants to…you don’t deserve it…you’re not worthy***

I don’t believe that most days. But sometimes I do. Sometimes I feel like I did it all wrong. Maybe I had too much fun, went to too many great parties, met too many great people, had too much great sex, and this life is my punishment. I’m sentenced to a life of unrelenting loneliness with no hope of meaningful escape.

Whether I believe that or not, I can’t stay in that headspace. I have to keep hoping and praying that I’ll either be chosen or content in this dispensation of my time.

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