I was never one for boyfriends. By age 16, when all my classmates and friends seemed to have a long list of love relationships, I was the poster child for “I Have Never Been Kissed” (as in the movie). And, Oh God! that was embarrassing! At age 20 I had my first boyfriend, hooray! finally! That’s what I thought. But in my eager quest for love and affection, I rushed into a toxic relationship, with someone that not only did not love me but abused me. And that was my first experience with love. Truth is, that relationship had nothing to do with love, but it sure hurt me a lot. At age 33, happily married to an amazing man, I cannot help but wonder, Why do we rush into love? Why does it feel that the need for companionship is bigger for us, women than for men? In my case, I only wanted to have a boyfriend and to finally experience what others had. I had all these ideas and fantasies of what love was, but more than anything, I just wanted to feel worth it. Why did no boy like me? Why were the other girls more fortunate than me? It was depressing, especially after coming from a party and realizing how many new couples were formed, everybody but me… Sure as hell I knew the answer: “I was not enough!” See, I was brought up in a world where all my sense of self-worth (at least for a woman) was tied to my body and the false and toxic stereotypes of how I woman should look. Certainly, there was no way I could fit that stereotype and apparently, everybody else noticed it too. And in my search for love, I just wanted to feel pretty and acknowledged like if I could finally exist through the eyes of another defeating the odds of being loved as woman, a “real woman” myself.