I am beautiful, I am worthy

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that bullshit that people tell kids and are supposed to live by. And when you date as an adult, it all falls apart, to be honest. 

I am probably guilty of it too. I don’t like to date obese men. But that comes from a place that is deeper than skin deep; I do not want to be with someone who has bad habits and I will then follow suit and all my efforts at good health will be undone. 

It seems to me that women in their 40s and 50s are forgotten. Divorced and separated men at our age look for 20 somethings. The pretty girls with little waists and tight buns.

Some of us have equally tight buns, but they are overlooked because we have stretched skin on our bellies from bringing life into the world. We have raised those children that are supposedly our future. We have grey hair from living.

I just hope that I have at least created two humans who will use their upstairs brain to choose their partners or companions. 

Everyone wants to be near us older women, because we are warm and nurturing, and we provide wisdom, and can cook and look after ourselves.

But somehow we are still undesirable and old. Those two words somehow equal. 

Older men want to have us around when they are old and require care, but while they have life in them yet, they do not want us, they chase the younger ones. 

If you tell I am wrong, then why have I been waiting for 17 years to meet a man who sees me?

And I was only 31 then, so what am I missing?

Maybe what I should be asking is why have I missed the right men? Where are they? Do they even exist? 

Are they all married, in successful relationships that have somehow passed me by?

Or is it that I have been so discerning that I am not happy with just any man?

In a way, I have been.

I have been waiting for a man who adds to my life, not detracts. Someone capable of sharing, giving and taking. A friend who also wishes to be my lover. A companion who wants to debate and talk, and delve into the deep recesses of my mind. Those meaty parts that make me who I am. 

Some of my friends tell me I am looking for a woman, that men like that do not exist. Why would I be so heterosexual and be in love with women’s minds? Born in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe? Who knows?

I sure don’t. 

What I am certain of is that I am at a great place in my life. I understand myself inside and out. I have looked into the darker areas of my mind and conquered them. I have survived depression, anorexia, marriage, divorce, loss, children and their ups and downs. And I am still here. And the most refreshing part of that is that I still have hope for humanity and that we are heading in the right direction. 

I know people who have given up, even those in my inner circle. Who no longer have hope for people. 

And I write in the hope that I can reach the small percentage of people who think like me. The world is small if you reach out. 

We can all be beautiful, if we believe we are. We all have worth beyond measure. 

And yet the young seem to believe that lip fillers and make up will add up to substance. That skin products will make them happy. 

Just express whatever makes you happy, at the end of the day. As long as YOU enjoy it and love it, and you are not doing it so that someone else will like it or comment on it. You do you.