24. Immature BS.

by Belle

egg-freeze

What I’d really like is a companion, a friend and let’s be honest, a lover. But somehow being 36 leads to this baby thing. After months of not bothering I logged back into a dating website, I saw a cute guy and I checked his details out. He is 40, I am 36 and yet, apparently, I (and every other 36 year old woman) is a year too old for him.

I feel judged, unfairly, and it hurts. Again.

It’s not the first time. In fact that’s one of the many reasons I haven’t logged-in for months. If we met in a bar he might have thought I was 33, or 34, or 35, or 41 even. Whatever, at least he would have judged my flesh in the flesh.  He is surely an ass.

Maybe it’s nothing to do with babies, maybe he restricts his search to 25-35 because he is a boy-man. Or a man-boy. Or just because. But so many men do this. Their loss, I am beeeeautiful, glamorous, sexy…. and it makes me feel shit.

Anyway, that led to my looking up freezing eggs. Because. Actually, because a couple of friends have mentioned it this week. And because I want to set aside this nagging fear that this THING (yes I mean fertility) is influencing my decisions and tolerance of idiots. I promptly burst into tears, I know I’m not helping the cause here.

So, I am scared. That’s the truth. In black and white. I am afraid that I am not likeable, not loveable, I cannot love, I cannot be loved. I’m getting lonelier by the day and it has nothing whatsoever to do with not having children. Has it? I want sex, male company, someone to laugh with, dance with, someone who sees how hot I am, who thinks I rock… before I get stiff joints and saggy boobs. No matter how much I hide it this perpetual single woman bullshit is eating away at me.

I’m worried too. It’s starting to… who am I kidding, it IS and HAS paralysed me for years now.

The fear.

The fear is that I’m OK on the surface. I seem attractive, clever, successful, funny but soon he/she/everyone will realise that I am not attractive, I am not clever, I am not successful and I am definitely not funny. And then they’ll leave me.

There it is.

Stupid thing is I am perceived to be a ‘confident’ woman. BS.

The worst thing is that I’ve just written it down, the fear, and yet despite laying it out there – and accepting how ridiculous and self absorbed it sounds – I cannot move past it. I see those words,  I know that I am very  fortunate and that there are worse situations I could be in; I park my fears for a while and then they come back. 

Because I have actually done nothing about them. 

One of these days I’ll be 37, how many more years before I kick this shit to the kerb? Someone. How do I kick this shitty feeling/ behaviour to the kerb?

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