Dear future husband of mine



I’m starting to realise that I’m not yet ready for you. I’m trying to organise my life so that I’ll be the best Tarah. I want to love myself wildly, madly, ridiculously but I’m not there yet. I used to be all about the drama and I’m still a bit ‘about the drama’. That has to stop.

I’m getting closer and closer to loving myself. It took 27.5 years to get to this stage.

So you say that you’re intelligent, eh? Good for you. No, really, good for you. But that don’t impress me much. It used to, though. That and being emotionally unavailable — married, ‘busy’, or just interested in a good old time. But really, I’m glad that you are intelligent even though it’s no longer my defining criterium. Relationships aren’t about intelligence; relationships are about two people who love each other.

So please hang in there. Go out and have fun, work on yourself, learn as much as you can, and have more fun.

I’m relieved that I won’t have to play mind games with you. Things will be easier with you, that I can tell. You may not ‘get’ me at once but you’ll still love me. I’ll feel comfortable enough to be who I am with you and I’ll feel no insecurity. I used to say that I hate the beginning phase of dating because it’s just so damn confusing. Well guess what — I will try to see that phase for what it is: a chance to get to know each other.

So yeah. I’m looking forward to meeting you eventually.




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