I’m 64 years old. Most likely a bit older than most of the people who read this blog (I’m so old I’m not even sure if it’s called a blog!)

I was constantly searching for love. I was sure something was wrong with me because I could never find it. I was always falling for the wrong man. I found physical and emotional abusers. If I loved them they didn’t love me. And if they loved me I didn’t love them. Looking back now, I know I stunk of desperation.

And I was looking so hard that I ignored red flags and saw things in men that weren’t really there. I didn’t marry until I was 33 years old. I stayed in a bad marriage longer than I should have —-17 years —- and I’ve been divorced for going on 14 years. It took me until I was 63 years old to find the man I’ve been searching for all of my life and he just asked me to marry him this past Christmas.

Looking back now, I wish I had just relaxed and enjoyed my footloose and fancy free 20’s, instead of struggling so hard to find love and marriage. And I didn’t learn anything from my disastrous marriage. I laid low for more than 10 years, afraid of getting burned again, then fell into the same pattern of desperation, even more fearful than before because I believed I was too old and it was too late for me to ever find love.