The Affliction

In the past year and a half, I've been on the receiving end of a number of condolences like this.

• You are so brave. 
• I don't know what I'd do in your position. I'd probably just give up. 
• You're doing really well, considering. 
• I'd just feel so hopeless in your position. 
• What are your options at this point?
• This has got to be especially hard now, given your age. 

At this point, you're probably wondering what horrible malady I've been suffering in silence. Never once mentioning it in this blog. Soldiering on bravely in the face of tragedy.

Is it an incurable disease?
Family emergency?
Money issues?

Nope.

They're allllll talking about my relationship status. 

Apparently, being single (and a woman) in your early 40s is The Worst Thing That Could Possibly Happen to Anybody.

More perplexing? The fact that everybody else is so much more concerned about it than I am. The only time I really worry about it is when the Consolation Squad sets in on me and gets me to worrying if I SHOULD BE as worried as they are.

Don't get me wrong; I'd love to have a partner in crime, and I'll find one when the time (and the fella) is right for me. In the meantime, I'm enjoying being on my own and amassing an amazing collection of dating-profile screenshots (seriously, EVERYBODY should join a dating website. Not to meet anybody, but for the sheer comedy. It's hours of entertainment. Worth every penny.)

But I don't go to bed worried about it. I don't think about my relationship status any more than anybody else thinks about their own. I go to work, take care of what I need to take care of, and do the things I enjoy with the people I enjoy doing them with. 

Maybe I'm just really good at being single.

Whatever the case, thanks for the support. I'll be fine. :)