It was late evening, around 8:30 p.m. The sun had set and in the darkness out came two shadows; a man, a woman.
I walked out of a bar with my date in tow. I was wondering how I would let him know as kindly as possible that he is not the one for me. He looked at me hopefully as we bid goodbye. I’d love to see you again and get to know you more, he said. I said sure, too quickly, feeling a little guilty, knowing already that this was never going to happen.
I am 37 and I am single and loving every minute of it!
It took me a heck of a long time to get to this stage to openly declare, embrace and rule my kingdom of solitude. In fact, it hasn’t been that long since the words “alone” and “loneliness” left my vocabulary. In the past, every time these words were spoken I was instantly engulfed in a wet blanket of shame and sadness.
I finally get it—and boy am I laughing my way to my throne. How did I get here?