One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: that word is love.

It seems I do a lot of writing about romance, or the lack of it. I'm looking for it, hiding from it, mad about it, sad about it, curious. Always curious.

Everything else in life seems to work out for me. Not perfectly, but usually. Right now I am jobless but hold no real fear of it, I have a lot of confidence in my employability. I don't actually feel unloved either. I have a huge family that puts the fun in dysfunctional and an eclectic variety of friends both near and far that seem to laugh at all my jokes and wish nothing but the best for me. I live simply and am not particularly ambitious for more. I have my little luxeries and few hassles. I feel good about my *Mom-life* too. My kids are great and capable. I'm looking forward to being a grandparent. I don't like the cold Winter weather much...but the other 3 seasons here keep me from actually hating my home.

Romantic love has truly eluded me though. I keep looking for that passionate friendship my grandparents shared, the one my Mom and Stepfather have. My brother and 2 sisters found it, but another sister and I just keep looking.

This constant search and the inevitable dashed hopes leave me weary these days. Unlike my sister, I'm truly independent and feel no male is superior (or inferior) to me based upon gender alone. I don't like playing the *little* woman as she does. She's flirtatous and seldom disagrees (or even discusses) heavy subjects with a man. If she did, chances are she would be flattering of his opinions. With can go either way.

Its kind of funny how all my sisters and I prefer the same type of men at the core. We like them bossy. Domineering sometimes. Manly men. None of us have any respect for a man we can use like a doormat. Guess we are spoiled by the men in our family. They hold thier own for the most part.

The difference between my sisters and I is that, truth be told, its always been way too easy for me to get men to fawn all over the place.

Sometimes its entertaining, but it never holds my attention for long. Thier high opinions of me make me feel unworthy and fearful of disillusioning the poor souls. How can I let them see what they've chosen to be blind to?

No woman, no matter how successful, smart, pretty or any other pleasing adjective you can think of, really wants to be on that high horse so many men put us on. Its a long way down. I've learned to give my real trust sparingly.

No one is cute all the time.

I want to find a man who will love me when I'm ugly.

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