I… But about myself a little later (I’m married, I looked for a long time, I found it).
You know, there is such a belief that if a woman is over thirty and has not been married, then she is an old maid.
I think we weren't afraid of celibacy, we were afraid of being labeled an old maid. We were afraid of old age in principle.
And if someone had shown me then an example of a happy old woman’s life: a biker jacket, a biker jacket, no wrinkles, pumped up, wearing makeup, well, maybe a little Botox for the sake of gloss, heels and latex trousers, my life could have been different.
Have you seen Mylene Farmer? Not married, no children, that is, no relationship with some handsome guy, and all this is seasoned with concerts for millions of fans peeing with delight.
These are the kind of women that need to be shown to young girls, so that they don’t realize themselves yet, and don’t even worry about being lonely after thirty.
Now Mr. President will condemn me, but what about the state order for children? Dear sir, I am not against children or marriage, I am for conscious marriage and creating a family.
Girls, girls, women, realize yourself, strive to be happy, the rest will come later.
If we take the chronology, then after unrequited love for the man of my romance, I experienced my first painful breakup. If you look at life in general, then I had at least three of these.
So, let's start with the debut. It’s, as you know, going out into the world for the first time and finding yourself dirty, or naked. As it happens in a dream. you walk like this through the snow in only a sweater, no boots, no socks, and what’s worse is that you don’t even have panties. Such an under-exhibitionist.
Who had this? Yeah, I see hands raised, there are a lot of us.
So, finding yourself in love for the first time after a breakup is cruel.
The second and third time you get more or less used to it.
But the first time you completely lose your head. You try to get him back, call, write, follow him around, ask for forgiveness, have sex just so that he doesn’t do this with anyone else but you, get angry with him, complain to your friends about what a scoundrel he is.
But from the perspective of my current situation, I could just as diligently take up sports, dancing, drawing, going to a theater group, doing what I was called to do.
I don’t argue that I may also have a vocation for the return of runaway guys, but considering that now I have a beloved husband, and they were left behind, then all this was pointless.
So, how do you know if a man is worth the effort, tears and change?
Well, I developed a set of criteria for getting my ex-boyfriends back, and I won't do it again.
First of all, they were offended by me. I pointed out their shortcomings to them more often than I spoke words at all. I’m exaggerating, of course, but something always irritated me about them. Either he called me a fool, then he called me too fat, too unkempt, rude, angry, boorish, unsexy, stupid, greedy, poor, lazy, just not the same.
Therefore, at first I abandoned them myself, trying to get them to return me. Then they agreed with my decision and really broke off the relationship.
Something like that:
– I'm leaving.
– Sorry.
– No, I decided.
A day, two, a month, in different ways. I start to get bored, the hysteria passes, the anger settles. And it seemed like he wasn't that bad. I want everything back. I guess I love him. He is definitely my destiny, it's time to call him.
