**By Dia Morena **
I found myself sitting around listening to sad love songs, feeling sorry for myself. My mother would be so ashamed. She’s from that generation of “real men.” Men who want a family, a commitment: men who think it is only destiny to have a wife and kids to love and provide for. And she thinks there are just plenty of them, the real men, waiting out there for a special someone, like myself. Now maybe there were never any “real men” out there. My mother was, and still is, a very attractive woman. Maybe her sheer cuteness attracted the cream of the crop to her in droves, so her view is skewed. Obviously she had no problem meeting men. Frankly, my father was lucky to have snatched her up from among his competitors. But enough about my mother…(who still puts in her “order” for twins even though I am single and have no prospects for a mate nor sperm donor lined up.)
I jokingly blame my parents for my current state of unhappiness. It’s all their fault that I’m looking for more in a relationship. I mean, jeez, why couldn’t my mom and dad be divorced like everyone else’s? Why did they have to be so stable and happy? Obviously, their relationship puts me at severe disadvantage. They were too good of an example. I’ve tried settling for something close, but then I look at their relationship. I look at the type of person my father is. I look at the type of person my mother is. And I sigh. Like it or not, I am a lot like my mother, and if she could find a decent guy like my dad, why can’t I? Not to say that their relationship is perfect, but I’ve watched them battle it out for 26 years and the results haven’t been all that bad.
I used to be one of those girls that sat around perfectly happy being single, dating a ton of guys, having what seemed like an endless supply of readily available male companionship. Now I’m starting to second-guess myself. I’m starting to find my options not so interesting, not so desirable after all. My friends say to me, “Oh, you always have someone interested…someone who wants to be with you.” And they’re right. But that doesn’t mean that I’m getting what I want from these relationships. In fact, sometimes I feel as if I just fall into them. Oh you’re nice. Oh we have similar interests. And then: Oh sure! I’ll be your girlfriend. Now as I get older, I don’t think about lowering the bar: I think about raising it. I understand though, that I might need to compromise somewhat. Maybe I can find one of those “real men”, but of my generation’s standard. If not, it’s never too late to become a nun, right? Religious affiliation aside?