At 42, I find myself asking a question that echoes louder with each passing year: Why does finding real love feel so impossible nowadays? I’ve built a life I’m proud of—a fulfilling career, meaningful friendships, and hobbies that bring me joy. But there’s still an ache, a quiet longing for the kind of connection that feels like home.

I’ve dated, of course. There were relationships that seemed promising at first, full of excitement and hope. But they didn’t last. Some faded quietly, while others ended painfully, leaving me questioning whether love—the kind that’s deep, lasting, and truly real—is even possible in today’s world.

Modern dating feels so disconnected. It’s swiping through profiles, endless text exchanges, and fleeting encounters that rarely lead to something meaningful. People seem hesitant to invest time and energy, as if everyone is waiting for something better to come along. The vulnerability and effort that real love requires feel like rare commodities in a world of instant gratification.

And yet, I still believe. I believe in love that’s worth the wait, the kind that makes all the disappointments and false starts fade into the background. I remind myself that being on my own doesn’t mean I’m incomplete. It means I’ve had the courage to hold out for something real.

Maybe love isn’t impossible—it’s just rare. And rare things take time. Until then, I’m choosing to embrace this season of my life, trusting that when love does come, it’ll be worth everything I’ve endured to find it.