Loneliness is a terrible matchmaker. It has poor eyesight, questionable judgment and a dangerous habit of dressing up disasters as blessings. It can make a woman who has survived heartbreak, raised children, built a career and paid her own bills suddenly begin to consider a man she would ordinarily not employ as her gateman.
Loneliness can make a red flag look pink. It can make a liability look like a companion. It can make a woman who has spent years building a beautiful life hand over the keys to a stranger simply because he says, ‘Good morning, beautiful’ every day.
My sister, shine your eyes. Not every man who knocks on your door deserves to enter. Some are not looking for love. They are looking for accommodation, feeding allowance and retirement benefits.
Don’t settle for users.
There are men who can smell a lonely, financially comfortable woman from three streets away. They arrive with sweet words, sad stories and empty pockets. Before you can say Jack Robinson, you are paying his rent, repairing his car and sponsoring his business dreams. His mother is sick. His landlord is wicked. His contractor has disappeared. His village people are pursuing him. Madam, are you looking for a husband or adopting a community project?
Love gives, certainly. But love should not be a permanent debit alert on one person’s phone and a credit alert on another’s.
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Don’t give access to men who think they are doing you a favour.
Some men approach mature, single women with the arrogance of philanthropists. They behave as if agreeing to date you is a humanitarian intervention. They expect gratitude for showing up, applause for calling and a national award for spending the night.
Excuse me, sir. Who sent you?
A man who thinks he is rescuing you from loneliness will eventually expect you to pay for the rescue. With your dignity, your peace and your self-respect.
Don’t become somebody’s ATM.
Your financial independence is an achievement, not an invitation to exploitation. You did not work for thirty years, endure difficult bosses, save diligently and deny yourself luxuries just to finance a grown man’s irresponsibility.
If he genuinely needs help, you may choose to help. But don’t confuse being needed with being loved. An ATM is needed too. Nobody asks whether it slept well.
And please, great sex will not cure loneliness.
I know. He knows how to make your toes curl and your ancestors applaud. He can turn an ordinary Tuesday into a public holiday. Congratulations. But what happens when the fireworks end?
Can you talk to him? Does he respect you? Can he be trusted? Will he stand beside you when life gets ugly?
A man can be excellent between the sheets and completely useless outside them. Don’t mistake sexual satisfaction for emotional security. One can make you scream tonight; the absence of the other can make you cry tomorrow.
Never choose a man over your children.
Any man who demands that you abandon, neglect or emotionally disconnect from your children to prove your love is not offering companionship. He is negotiating your isolation.
Your children may be grown. They may have their own homes and families. That does not make them disposable. A decent man should understand that your children are part of your life, not competitors for his affection.
Love should enlarge your world, not shrink it.
The choice is yours.
You are not helpless. You are not expired goods on a supermarket shelf waiting for a desperate buyer. You have choices, including the choice to remain single until someone worthy comes along.
And if nobody comes? Your life must still be worth living. Build friendships. Travel. Laugh. Learn something new. Enjoy your children and grandchildren. Dress beautifully. Take yourself out. Live!
You are still the prize.
Not because you are perfect, rich or beautiful, but because you are a complete human being deserving of affection, respect and peace.
Don’t let the silence in your bedroom become louder than the wisdom in your head.
Don’t let loneliness box you into a corner of disadvantage. Don’t surrender your comfort because somebody has offered you company. Don’t trade your peace for a pair of trousers.
Remember, being alone is a relationship status. Being miserable is a condition. You can change the first without volunteering for the second.
And if you must choose between sleeping alone in peace and sleeping beside a man who makes your life miserable, my sister, spread yourself across that bed.
At least nobody will be dragging the duvet with you.
You are still the prize. Don’t let loneliness convince you otherwise.
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