The other night I woke around 2 a.m., sweat dripping down my back and chest, which I speculate is due to fluctuating hormones as the temperature in my yurt is rather cool in the middle of the night.

I woke from a dream. I was surrounded by my childhood friends and their husbands of years and there I stood, completely encircled yet utterly alone. I lay there in the pitch black of night ruminating on the length of time each of them had been with their spouses and comparing my constant singleness with their holy matrimony. Then it came, pangs of envy crept up as the self-inflicted judgments I’d been stuffing down with affirmative pleasantries surfaced.

How am I still single? What is so wrong with me that no one ever wants to stay? Why do I keep attracting men who don’t really want me?