If my alma mater offered a degree program for being a wingman, I’d have graduated valedictorian, magna cum laude, and have seven thousand honors cords around my neck commemorating my achievements.
Instead, I have friend-couples (you know, the couples you were friends with before they were couples) sprinkled through my social calendar, all with their own cute little anecdotes and acknowledgments that without me, they probably would’ve given up halfway through.
One of my best friends even said that she wished I had a me, so that I could be dating someone, too.
If you’re pausing because, hold up, the best way to have a me is for her to a be a me, that’s what I thought too. I tried to explain that to her. Read More »
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