I’m 50 and still single. Sometimes I sit with that thought and let it linger, wondering how I got here. Does true love even exist anymore, or is it just a myth we tell ourselves to keep hope alive? When I was younger, love seemed inevitable—a force you’d eventually collide with, like gravity pulling you toward your destiny. But now, with every passing year, it feels more like chasing a shadow.

It’s not as if I haven’t tried. I’ve dated, fallen in love, and even come close to something I thought was forever. But life has a way of unraveling what seems perfect. Careers took precedence, timing didn’t align, or, in some cases, people just weren’t who they claimed to be. Each heartbreak added another layer to my caution, and now, I sometimes wonder if I’ve built walls so high that even the most genuine love couldn’t climb them.

And then there’s the world we live in today. Dating apps reduce us to a few photos and a bio, while real, meaningful connections feel rarer than ever. The idea of finding someone who values loyalty, kindness, and depth—not just surface-level attraction—seems almost old-fashioned.

But even with all the doubt, I can’t fully let go of hope. Love might not have shown up the way I imagined, but maybe it’s still out there, waiting for the right moment. After all, myths often have a grain of truth, don’t they?