I recently read an obituary for a woman who passed away recently, from cancer. She was only forty-eight. But she married her husband when she was forty and had two kids, a boy and a girl, in her early forties. This was on top of having a successful career.

I felt terrible for her family reading it, especially her young children. But I also thought…even though her life was short, she still managed to get married and have kids in her forties. And at this point in my life, when I’m less than six months from turning thirty-eight, I could only think…I would rather have her too short life, where she had a husband and kids who loved her, than live to be a hundred and remain alone.

I really would. The thought of living the rest of my life the way I’m living now is just absolutely terrifying.