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When someone is often aware of and affected by the personal differences or the outstanding or unique qualities of their current state of being like phobias or allergies which are specific to themselves and unusually and obsessively attention taking must they inform everyone nearby of their difficulty so that a sensitive caring empathetic person is drained to be so concerned when the problem (which may or may not be treatable) is just a statement about I AM ME? Celebrating the event "out loud" might be a statement of " this is a part of my identity" and if those affected would take an interest in things other than themselves the symptoms may subside, I guess. I've noticed that allergies might be real not brought on by some concious thinking but phobias seem to be a bit of a "put on" to me.

Now knowing that I've remained single through the years and choices and have arrived at a hopeful place in my life because there is someone there for me because many years ago I defined the criteria that I determined would allow me to have the relationship I want and expect to make the most of and keep working on through it all. College Sociology class gave me some insight. Your mate is likely living within walking distance of you, 1.58 miles or so. The more you have in common the easier it is for you to relate to each other; age group, socio economic status, culture which you experienced growing up etc. I was VERY big on a formal introduction only .I felt that was the ticket to all the formalities of a wedding day being treated properly and the kind thought that if it didn't work out " the dumped "would still have a friend to turn to. It was the formalities that nixed the relationship (the church said no). The original criteria have worked. I remember the feeling that all of these men who have shown interest in me one of these is the one. Which one? For me it was "In the normal course of my life I will find the right person for me" I wouldn't go out of my way or subscribe to anyone's game playing theories or strategies. Remembering the truth that no one is perfect picturing the t-shirt of a skeleton in a head scarf seated at a bench "Waiting for Mr. Right" I am 47.