Tag: love

“You’ll find the right person when you least expect it.” Every time I hear that, I feel like punching a wall. It’s genuinely triggering. I wish married people realized that this kind of advice doesn’t help—it actually makes things worse. It reminds me of the kind of comfort Job’s friends tried to offer: well-intentioned, maybe, but ultimately dismissive of real pain. Of course, my suffering isn’t on the scale of Job’s, but the truth is, being single is the deepest ache in my life right now.

This discontent has been building for a long time, but it’s intensified as more of my friends have gotten married and started families. I can’t help but compare myself to them. Slowly, jealousy and bitterness—toward them and toward God—have crept into my heart. I want what they have. I want to be home, raising a child, building a life with someone. That’s the life that feels meaningful to me.

Instead, I’m exhausted—drained by the demands of corporate life. I go to work, I stare at screens, I sit in meetings, I chase deadlines. And for what? Who am I doing this for? What am I working toward? Yes, I get a paycheck, but that’s it. There’s no lasting satisfaction in it. I have no passion for climbing a corporate ladder, no interest in helping grow someone else’s empire. No matter where I work, I feel unfulfilled. The truth is, the life that seems most meaningful to me is one where I’m a wife and a mother. But I don’t have anyone. No partner, no prospects. And that’s what breaks me. I feel stuck in a place I don’t want to be.