What's Wrong With You?

Plenty.

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Let me go back. 

I used to hate this question. I hated even the thought that people might be thinking this question. 

"You're 34 and single...what's wrong with you?"

Plenty.

Divorced at 26. 

Prone to "out of sight, out of mind" tendencies.

Hogs the whole damn bed.

Has entirely beautiful, well-communicated conversations in head...then keeps things to self.

Uses humor as an avoidance technique.  

I think this question is born from the false notion that people in relationships have somehow gotten their shit together better than the rest of us. 

Meh, I disagree.

We all have shit wrong with us. Just sometimes you find someone whose shit either doesn't bother you all that much or whose shit you're willing to overlook or whose shit you simply ignore. 

Relationships aren't a cure-all for shit, or a magic line in the sand that erases shit. They're instead a journey with someone through the shit you already have and the shit life gives you. 

We are all works in progress...and to assume that a relationship or lack of relationship signifies a lesser or greater amount of shit is to not understand shit. 

Says "shit" a lot.  

So I've decided that to be a single person who has to pretend like her shit is together all the damn time in the hopes that someone won't look at me as if I not only have an expiration date (34! YOUR EGGS ARE DYING) but also won't assume my single status must signify that I am simply unlovable...well, it's exhausting.

So I'm done being afraid of this question.

I'm done asking this question of myself. And I'm done getting defensive when someone asks or assumes it of me. 

Because the only right answer is that at any given time, I'm working on (or ignoring, let's be honest) (ignores personal issues) something about me that could use a little tweaking.

To reach for someone else's idea of perfection--and assuming it's required before one can be loved--is not only unrealistic, it denies the basic self-compassion needed now in the face of imperfection to say, "You're all right. Relax. Try again tomorrow."

There's no timeline on this whole "practicing life" thing, after all.