When I started seeing my husband, aka the first guy I wasn't embarrassed to tell my therapist about, I was gobsmacked to realize how much I hadn't known about dating before then.
In fact, I'd been going about being single all wrong. I didn't have very much fun at it, which is depressing since I didn't pair up until my 30s.
Besides, so much luck was involved in my finding my match that there are probably more alternate universes where I'm still living solo than where I'm married.
I realize that my past experiences have made me who I am today, but I still wish I could go back in time and have a sisterly chat with poor, clueless, "younger me."