As you’ll probably learn about me, I never date. Like never.

My last boyfriend was when I was 18… and I’m now 21.

It’s just never really been a priority for me, you know? I was always busy, or I just could never find the guy for me.

So every now and then I enter these moods where I want someone. Just that basic human need to have someone hold me causes me to do stupid things. Like make a Bumble or Tinder account. I know that these guys aren’t serious. I know that there’s an automatic lack of respect for this relationship in the eyes of some, yet I continue to do it anyway. I swipe left and right… AND nothing. Not a thing.

And somehow, I always end up feeling worse about myself AFTER I’ve talked to men on there than I did when I was just alone in my room on a Saturday night.

This epiphany has really got me thinking…….

Why do I, and pretty much everyone else, allow insecurities to make me do things when I know the probability of things changing is slim to none?

Is it because there’s a minor chance that I might actually meet someone this time?

Honestly, that’s most likely exactly what it is. I want love, and I could find it there, so I look.

Now, let me tell you how pitiful and pathetic that makes me feel.

This time was different, though.

This time I actually talked to someone I got along with and it still ended with a big fat, “Not interested.”

My first response was that of pretty much everyone……. “What is wrong with me?”

All of these insecure thoughts end up swirling around in my head, making me think that maybe I’m just not normal, not fit for a relationship.

But then I catch myself, and this is the part that I wish all women could relate to.

Catch yourself.

It might take a few hours, or maybe a few days, but catch yourself.

I catch myself by remembering why I decided to be alone in the first place. I COULD date, I could be the girl that it seems men are attracted to. I could be flirty. But I’m not.

I’m kind of funny looking because I dress like a grandma and hardly ever wear makeup. I’m a total dork that loves history and reading. I like to talk about things that matter with the people that matter to me, and I hardly talk when they don’t. I can’t flirt to save my life. I’m chubby. I still live with my parents even though I’m 21, and I have about no money.

There’s an entire list of things wrong with me, yet despite that, I’ve learned to love myself as I am.

That list above that contains some of what’s wrong with me is superseded by the list that contains everything RIGHT with me.

That’s the problem so many people face these days. It’s so easy to be sucked into the self-loathing that we forget what’s good about us.

I catch myself the moment I remember what’s right with me.

Being alone this long doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with me. It means that I can be by myself and love myself without the affection of another. It means I am strong enough to live.

Being alone isn’t something that people should be afraid of. It gives you the opportunity to look at yourself, really look, and decide if you’re the person you want to be on your own. If you’re not, then you have the ability to change that.

Being alone allows for much needed self-reflection, and it’s taught me that I need to love myself more than I need someone else’s love.

No one will love you like you love you.

And no one CAN love you until you love you.

So now I wait. I’ll continue my life, happy, content, and alone. Because I caught myself.

And if someone comes along the way, welcome. But I’ll be okay if he doesn’t, too.