Dating is like real estate; the longer you’re on the market, the more people are going to wonder what’s wrong with you.
When I was a little girl, my father, Artie, sat me down one day and said it was time to have a talk.
No, not that talk. Artie wanted to share his feelings about men.
“Holly, men are basically shit. Women need to stand on their own two feet. If you want something in life, you have to build it—that way a man can’t take it all away. Men hide, cheat, and steal. While not all men are bad, it sure is a lot harder to find a good man than it is to find a good woman. So never think a man is going to give you a life. You need to create your own life. And if, by chance, a man has given you a life, don’t rely on it. He can destroy it in the blink of an eye. Men are dogs. I’m ashamed to be one.”
I was five years old when my father shared this . . . advice . . . insight . . .
scary thought. But I’ve never forgotten it. It’s as if he said it to me yesterday. And he would remind me of this viewpoint several times a year so I wouldn’t forget to always stand my ground emotionally and financially.
I’ve never been someone who believed that marriage could save me. I always thought I’d be the last of my friends to bite the bullet. I wasn’t a damsel in distress who needed to be rescued by a man on a white horse. I was a free spirit. I wanted to travel the world, get my master’s degree, and say “I do” to Asia, South America, and India before saying it to a partner.
I was okay on my own—at least, that’s what I told myself and God.
As the saying goes, “We make plans, and God laughs.”
Well, He must have been laughing His ass off when He heard my plan.
Clearly, there was another design in motion—one I didn’t see coming.