What’s Wrong With Me?

What in the world is wrong with me? Here I am, watching Pride & Prejudice with Keira Knightley and feeling sorry for myself. What makes me think I am in competition with her? She’s married, for God’s sake. There is no sense in comparing myself to other people. It’s shameful to think that my looks will hold me back or take me forward with any long term effect. But in some old fuddy-duddy circles, they do. I don’t have time to figure out which circles count on my looks and which ones count on something else. If it were only easier to tell these things. Maybe it’s better if they don’t. I mean, do I need to be only good for the children I bear? Genetics make even that a risk. (The autism again, I know.) But why am I even wondering about my looks at all? They haven’t given me a man yet…and what’s wrong there, thinking I need a man. I don’t need a man so much, but something draws me to wanting one. I guess I should not make myself miserable. I wish I had a man…but I really don’t need one. I mean, if I have God, then I have all I need. That’s what I believe anyway. But I always wonder: is there some divine purpose I am missing out on by not having a man?

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