ConvoThat’s it. Right there. That’s the moment I had my epiphany.
Every time I get ghosted, Meta says there’s nothing wrong with me. But it’s pretty hard to maintain that position when a whole-ass matchmaking site rejects you as unmatchable. There were always signs. I mean, I played with Barbies… I just accessorized differently. I had a Sweet 16, like everyone else. Mostly. Though all my guest were boys and we played D&D into the wee hours of the morning.
I know I’m not a real woman. My shoes don’t hurt. I like math. I couldn’t flirt if I tried. And for me, dressing up means putting on mascara. Everything in my life has told me that’s not enough. That I’m not enough. But I guess I never really believed it before.
In their huge database, there wasn’t one guy who might like me? Really? Not one? Statistically, is that even possible? I don’t know how to fix this without pretending to be someone I’m not.
Look, I have a good job. A nice apartment. I take my own trash out. I know how to use a plunger and a comprehensive set of power tools. I don’t NEED a man. It’s just that maybe, every now and then, I’d like to reach out, and find someone there. Reaching back.
I don’t care what the I Promise people say. There IS someone out there for me. For all of us unmatchables.
I promise.
