All of our lives, we girls have been told that big, strapping men are the best. That we will and should fall in love with a man who’s taller than us, stronger than us, heavier than us. So when we girls meet guys who don’t fit that criteria, we aren’t interested. We expect a guy to be able to throw us over his shoulder, carry us over the threshold on our wedding night, and not have to use a step stool to get something off the top shelf.

Biology has a say in this too: we want big strong men because they can protect us. Big strong men can also produce big, strong, healthy babies.

Concurrently, it’s portrayed that our mate will be our same ethnicity and that he’ll speak our same accent-less language. To add to that, I grew up in a small town thats population is probably 95% white and accent-less. Same goes for my college and the town I lived in after college.

Continue reading Dream Package →

When I’d met Harry*, I had grown accustomed to – even falling in love with – my life as a single person. I started a monthly brunch club with all of my girlfriends in Chicago, volunteered 1-3 nights a week, began editing a newsletter for a local yoga studio in exchange for free classes, had frequent dinner dates with my best friend’s family, and joined the happiest of hours with my single girlfriends. My independence and the ability to choose to do what I wanted when I wanted was exhilarating.

And then a perfect little present fell from the eHarmony sky: Harry. And, I mean that; Harry is perfect. He checks every box on my list: nice, considerate, funny, intelligent, good-looking, open, honest, likes to work out and go to yoga, good cook, volunteers, has been to more countries than me, wants to get married and have a family, and the list could go on. Yet, I find myself somewhat resistant to him. We get along like two peas in a pod. I’m scared, though, of being TWO peas in a pod when I’ve spent so long being ONE pea all alone. Continue reading Mourning the Loss of my Singlehood →