I remember realising this when I was in my late 20s. It was a gradual realisation. It started with my friends talking about marriage. More importantly about proposing. Male friends who had proposed to their girlfriends in the most romantic manner. Female friends who were agonising about when their boyfriends would propose to them and how to drop subtle (or not so subtle) hints. And then it hit me. No girl was waiting around for me to propose to her. No one was dropping hints or was about to start anytime soon.
From the age of 24 to 35, for most of the women I’d dated, I was either the last fling they had before they got married or the first they had after they got divorced.
No one had the slightest interest in marrying me. And I was very happy with the status quo.
My persona had something to do with the reaction I evoked. I had long hair, unkempt stubble, smoked and drank a lot. By the time I was in my early 30s, everyone figured I wasn’t marriage material – I was commitment phobic.