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  • Writer's pictureDillan Taylor

All my friends are getting married

^^Not the bride and groom.

In the past year, of my close friends: five got married, four got engaged, and two had a child.

As I inch closer to 30 years old, this all feels more and more normal. But it brings up a plethora of emotions as a guy who’s spent most of his life single.

This weekend, I saw one of my best friends marry the woman he’s been with for nearly a decade. The wedding was at a stunning art museum, I got to spend time with my favorite people on the planet, and I got seven hours of sleep in three days.

They’ve been one of those couples who have acted like husband and wife for years: living together, running a business together, and having more chemistry and compatibility than just about any other duo I’ve ever known. I’m not sure which brought more tears to my eyes: hearing them exchange vows or watching them mosh to Panic! At the Disco on the dancefloor.

My friends mean the world to me. My relationships with them are arguably my deepest held value. If I had it my way, every single one of them would do wildly fulfilling work, live long and healthy lives, and be with a partner who supports and cherishes them. So far, so good.

But naturally, there’s a murkier and more selfish side to all this.

I’m proud of the life I’ve created. I have my dream career, take excellent care of my health, and have a disgusting amount of meaningful connections.

But as a human being, I’m not free from the natural comparative thoughts.

When I look around and see 80 to 90 percent of my friends with a partner, when I see so many awesome people with other awesome people, the question is inescapable:

Is there something wrong with me?

Am I…

  1. too picky?

  2. unattractive?

  3. not put together enough?

Logically, I’m aware that the answer to each of these questions is no. But logic rarely wins the battle.

One of my biggest fears in life is that there’s something (or multiple things) about me that makes me unlovable. Something with my personality, my looks, or both.

Again, it sounds like paranoia but it’s very much there. That stays between you, me, and the internet.

To be clear, none of these questions, doubts, or anxieties keep me from putting myself out there. I go on dates. I meet women. I even speak words to them.

But the point of this blog is to share my brain with ya’ll—not to gain sympathy but to articulate a hopefully relatable human experience.

I just deleted the dating apps from my phone after trying them for a month. I know people who’ve had success with them, but I found them to be utter garbage. Performing, ghosting, judging…not a fan.

So aside from continuing to build the life I want, the next step is to get better at talking to women out and about. There are two main challenges with this:

  1. I don’t go out much

  2. It’s pretty terrifying

Hence the “get better” part. But as always, I’ll keep you updated.

Seeing all my lovely couple friends this weekend didn’t make me sad. It fueled me. I’m even more energized to create and go after what I want.

And so I will.


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