I’m 35 and all alone
A Past That Won’t Let Go
I realized long ago that doubt is like a poison. It slowly eats away at you from the inside, turning even the brightest emotions into endless anxiety.
Even if I hadn’t known that before, there was one story that would have convinced me.
A friend shared it with me—Hannah, a physiotherapist who helped my friend Jess after her hip operation.
I often watched them together: Jess relearning how to walk, while Hannah never stopped for a moment. She humorously encouraged her, filled the room with laughter through funny stories, yet hidden in her words was a truth impossible to ignore.
One day, I found myself recognizing my own experience in what she said.
When a Father Leaves, He Takes More Than Just Himself
“Girls who grow up without a father always turn out different,” Hannah once said, like speaking into the void.
I listened without interrupting.
“When a man leaves his family, he doesn’t just take his clothes and belongings. He takes the ground from beneath your feet, your self-assurance, your sense of security.”
She paused briefly, then added:
“I was seven when my dad left.”
He would visit sometimes, but those moments were so fleeting they barely etched into memory.
As I grew older, my confusion only deepened—why?
What was wrong with us?
Why weren’t we enough for him?
This question settled in my soul like a splinter that never stopped nagging.
Distrust That Destroys
From childhood, I sought an answer.
Why did he choose a life without us?
Over time, I became convinced that if my own father couldn’t love me, then I wasn’t worthy of genuine love.
This belief became ingrained within me.
Every man who entered my life faced not just me, but also my fear of rejection.
I immediately rebuffed the first guy who asked me to the movies.
I thought, “We’ll sit in the dark, kiss, and then he’ll share stories about me with his friends.”
No, I wouldn’t let anyone talk about me behind my back.
When I truly fell in love for the first time, I thought I was ready to trust.
Then my boyfriend left for a six-month internship.
“I’ll be back,” he said. “Everything will be just like before.”
But I didn’t believe him.
He suggested we have a child so I wouldn’t fear him leaving.
That scared me even more.
I asked my mum what to do.
“Are you out of your mind?” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands.
And once again, I chose fear over trust.
I left for someone else.
For someone who spoke prettily, promised the impossible, who had no plans to stick around for long.
I knew it, yet sought proof that I mattered to someone.
But he was just a typical deceiver.
And I lost the only person who truly loved me.
I’m 35 – and There’s No One Beside Me
I recently turned 35.
The number itself isn’t frightening.
But what is terrifying is the emptiness inside.
I have no family.
No child.
Not even a man to wait for.
And you know what’s most dreadful?
I realize that I’m the only one to blame.
Not those who came and went.
But me.
I always doubted.
I always expected the worst.
I always anticipated betrayal.
Until I learn to trust, there truly won’t be anyone to love me.
Am I right?
