Terminally Single

It sucks to be single. I'm not talking about recently single resulting from divorce or being widowed, I'm talking about a phenomenon shared by more people willing to admit it; terminally single. I have been terminally single for all of my 39 years. It seems as I get closer and closer to that forty-year mile marker, I become much more deeply depressed by it. But I'm a closet depressive. I never let those around me know how wounded I am by this single existence that I am living. And I have five cats! What a cliché!

I haven't let these thoughts out before, but I am sure there are more people out there who are experiencing, nay living, this same phenomenon as myself, and I just wanted them to know they are not alone. I'm not going to offer any advice on how to meet others (obviously If I knew that I wouldn't still be single), or what to do differently. No, this is strictly my own story of how I've made it this far without managing to hook up with that special someone that I'm always told must be out there for me. I say that's a load of you-know-what!

My non-dating life started out way behind the mark to begin with. I was diagnosed at age five with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. By the age of ten, I had lost a great many physical abilities and barely cheated death on two occasions. So, I was a sick little girl who was just lucky to be here. When I hit my teen years, I walked with a limp, had contractures in both elbows, and my hands were the most visible sign of my handicap. I spent all my teen years deeply embarrassed by my appearance, and so I developed quite the funny-girl personality. I focused on being smart, witty, and humorous. Everyone who knew me then and still knows me now would say the same thing, "she's so smart!', "She cracks me up!", "She's always there when I need her", and "she's such a great friend." That's me, always the great friend.

My relationship with men has its roots in my early relationship with my dad. My parents divorced when I was five. It was right after that that I became ill and was later diagnosed. My mother was my primary caregiver. My step-father (whom my mother married just before I was diagnosed), also played a role in my developing view of male role models. My dad didn't go out of his way to pay child support. I saw the way he had treated my mother when they were married, which was terrible, controlling, and in the end, frightening. Because he didn't go out of his way to make sure I was financially set, I felt that I didn't matter. My step-father was an alcoholic until just over three years ago. He was verbally abusive, emotionally cold, and closed off. I grew up being called names because I was my father's daughter. My father and step-father had known each other years ago in the military and didn't like each other. Again, I felt unwanted and unloved.

In school, however, guys were always my best friends, nothing more. I was the cool, funny chick. My handicap didn't seem to be any kind of problem or deterrent when it came to being friend with anyone. It only became a problem in romantic relationships. I don't say this lightly or just out of the blue. Many almost-dates have said one thing or another either to me or to someone I knew about how it made them uncomfortable. But to my face, it was always them telling me "I'm not good enough for you. You deserve better." They always tried to make me feel better about it, but this only made me feel worse. Then they would go after one of my friends or some very pretty, normal girl. And I wouldn't cry, not in front of them. I would just manage a smile, say "sure, I agree", and would walk away. Crying was always reserved for when I was all alone. I hated the idea of pity and my pride is immense, not allowing any room for appearing weak in front of someone who had just stabbed a hole in my heart.

Then, I did something quite stupid. I fell for a married man. We worked in the same place and at the same hours, night shift. I knew it was wrong, but my feelings for this person were so strong that I couldn't keep away from him, or he from me, it seemed. Of course, he did something hurtful so I kicked him away from me, vowing never to be so damned stupid again. A few weeks went by then he contacted me, saying he missed me and wanted to know if I was alright. This was a new experience for me. No previous almost-boyfriend had ever tried to come back. This confused me greatly and it made me think he must truly care about me. Wrong! But stupid me, I let him come back, just long enough to hurt me far more deeply than before. The good news is that he and his wife moved to another city. It saved me, but it took a very long time for me to heal. After I got over him, I just stayed away from men altogether.

It's been eight years since that man, and I'm only just becoming interested in trying again. The only thing is, I don't trust my own judgment and I don't know where to begin. I'm so used to being single that allowing someone into my life seems like sticking a foreign body into my eye! Plus, I fear being hurt or treated badly again. I know I'm older and wiser now. I know what my mistakes were then. But now, I'm almost 40 and going out to clubs is not my bag. The very idea of trying an online dating service seems ridiculous to me because I feel that a guy should meet me and see me first before deciding if dating someone with a physical handicap is acceptable to him. Online services take that first impression away. So I remain single, not knowing exactly what to do about it. For an intelligent, college educated, self-sufficient woman, this is a bizarre concept for me.

For the sake of my sanity, I'll continue to go out with my friends. Who knows what might happen. But I do have to at least acknowledge that it is possible that in this lifetime, I might be destined to remain single. I call it "expecting the least". You all know the concept. You expect the least, but hope for the best. That way, if something good does happen, you'll be pleasantly surprised, but if it doesn't, at least you have hope to keep you going until the end!

I say to you, all single people, for whatever reason you find yourself single, that you are not alone. There is someone out there going through exactly the same thing, thinking exactly the same things, and feeling exactly as you are feeling. I hope that at least makes you smile! I hope it encourages you to keep going........I simply hope!