Here I am, a 37 year old single woman, educated to a terminal degree, road-traveled to some ridiculous extremes, and living with 2 cats. Never did I think I would be one of those statistics! Just like I know now about cancer and dementia in old age, I knew when I was younger about single women who "waited too long" to settle down - it was clearly someone else's problem.
Well, as my 20-something self thought, that won't happen to me because:
a. I have all the time in the world;
b. I always have a boyfriend - of course one of them will be the future mister;
c. "Those" women are somehow defective & culpable for their fates - utterly unlike me.
Right? Ha! Point by point:
a. I don't have all the time because here I am - closer to 40 than to 30, sweating the fertility statistics!
b. The musical boyfriends music never stopped - or, rather, it couldn't because the men I've dated have been impossibly suited to being my mister;
c. It's actually not much of a stretch to hold my catalog of quirks and deficits accountable for this horrible injustice, but in fact, one of the benefits of my age is that I'm finally shedding some of that destructive self-blame in favor of acceptance!