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I’m the white girl that dates only Asian guys with absolutely no apology…

and, depending on who you are, I know what you’re thinking when I say that. How can you know what you like if you’ve never dated different races?

I’ve dressed it up in pretty pink girl power with a silver lining instead of gotten really, really REAL with you and with myself about my fears about being single and 36. But the reasons I often convince myself that I’m still single aren’t pretty. A toxic relationship in my late 20’s that left me questioning everything about myself took its toll. Another man I loved for eight long years sat in my apartment not quite a year ago and looked me in the eyes and basically told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t lovable to him. That he had abruptly stopped being attracted to me, after almost a decade of intense, undeniable chemistry. I also have makeup, lots of makeup, and I’m working on the self-love stuff every day.

Where the truth comes out and it’s not the slightest bit pretty, or inspirational, or even positive. It’s also a truth I have kept to myself because of its ugliness. Convinced the person telling me that HAD to be mistaken. If I choose to let in the darkness and the sadness and the REALNESS…won’t I sink in it? I think I’m starting to come to a better understanding of why…but for the moment, it’s still just shadowed and blurry truth that I’m struggling to make sense of. A few years ago I felt like I could simply walk into a room and command the attention of the men in the room. I suspect it was more an internal change than an external one, as I honestly think I physically look better now than I did ten years ago.

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