Last year, I proudly proclaimed that I was content being single, almost 40 and happy.
Now at 40, I'm yelling...let's start dating!
I've been single, or as I like to call it purposefully dateless, for the past four years. That's a long time...even longer if you convert it to dog years. Yikes!
I have to admit I previously had no interest in dating because some men can be "liars, liars with pants on fire"; sadly, that's the lens from which I've been viewing them.
There's also a certain comfort in being single and keeping this mindset. Like not having to leave my warm and cozy comfort zone. Or delusionally choosing to believe that I'm protecting myself from hurt and pain by building a wall around myself. It's a little scary knowing that putting myself out there will disrupt that.
Being single I don't have to do the work of figuring someone out, shaving my legs or armpits if I don't feel like it. I can groom on my own terms without judgement. My cats and dog don't care about my hairy armpits or legs but a man might. Now, I guess I'll have to implement some regular grooming habits. Hmmm, will the sniff test work?
I figured it would be best if I started slowly. Right now I'm sorting through my prospects, getting myself used to flirting and chatting with the fellas. Preliminary chats have gone well. Apparently, four years later I still know how to flirt. Who knew?
I'm not looking for my future husband. I'm not even certain I want a long term relationship. What I do want is the opportunity to go out with some hot guys, maybe do a little smooching and have lots of fun.