40 and Single… Or Ready to Mingle

I’m forty-one years old, and I’m single. It’s time to talk about that.

In 2016, I had a pretty good life in Las Vegas with my dad. I had a great job at a Pilates studio, a steady routine, and a church that I loved. My relationship with God was thriving.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered I was sad.

I was homesick. And I could not shake it. I wrestled with my longing for days and finally initiated the hard conversation with my dad. Tears were shed.

It was painful, but the burden was lifted. Whispers of peace settled into my being, and fresh hope bubbled up inside me. I gave notice at the studio, packed my bedroom into my Mazda, and drove six states homeward to Kentucky.

That three day journey unlocked stirrings harbored deep in my belly. Fantasies about all the possibilities.

Night had fallen when the music that poured through my speakers turned country and tears wet my eyes. I imagined putting down roots and maybe finding someone.

Just maybe.

I could let down my guard and let myself love. In the way my soul longed for. Then life happened. A lot of it. Here I sit, not a millimeter closer to that wish in my heart.

I tucked it under a rug and smothered it with noise. I can barely hear it now. But secretly I hope someone will speak to those feelings long buried. And to what they’ve become.

I’ve read amazing blogs written by brave ladies who have navigated these waters and come out on the other side. But rarely does it feel messy enough to make me feel seen.

Maybe you can relate.

I want to get MESSY.

Do you?

I’m scared to death. Because saying it out loud— right here with you— makes it real. And I crave the soothing warmth of my cocoon. Where it’s cozy and safe. It’s scary out there!

There are psychos, and drama, and the pain of rejection. And I’m tired. So tired. Plus, I like my cozy little rut.

I’d rather watch movies with my mom than just about anything. Even though I love to read and crave stories so good they prevent me from watching The Andy Griffith Show or Bonanza. One of which is sure to be on when everything fades into the background. That’s the kind of company I crave. The kind that fills me up.

Did I mention I’m tired?

But none if that makes the longing less real. Less in need of my attention.

It’s time to talk. I NEED to talk. I need solidarity. I figured you might too.

Here’s the thing: It’s not about finding ′THE ONE.’ Not for me. It’s so much more than that. It’s about not feeling like my life is over just because I’m getting older.

What about you? Do you ever have feelings like these?

Look. This conversation is just getting started. I have so much more I want to tell you. Starting with the struggle. So don’t leave me hanging. I want to hear your dating frustrations right here in the comments.

We’ll dish on the dirty details of how the struggle is real in our very next chat. Subscribe to the Newsletter so you don’t miss a thing. Trust me. You don’t want to miss where I’m going with this.

Click the blue lettered link. Scroll down. Just past Your Come to Life Kickstarter, you’ll find an invitation to ′virtual coffee.’ Can I pour you a cup?

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