Dating 'Nam.

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I have a confession to make. And it's not exactly pretty.

For years I've dated in Portland, complaining the men in this city had perpetual Peter Pan syndrome, were commitment phobic, wet blankets, too interested in themselves than they were in actually establishing relationships. Although, for some, that's true, I've recently realized it might actually be me, not you.

On the surface I'm lovely- smart, witty, pretty good-looking (if I do say so myself), tattooed and just a little bit twee. But get to know me a bit more over the last few years and many have discovered some things a little dark, a little twisty and often related to the over-consumption of mind-altering substances (mostly sweet, sweet booze). After fucking up (royally, stupendously, spectacularly) what had the potential to be a very wonderful time with a very sweet and together guy, I decided to get sober and be a grown-up.

So in sobriety, I've realized, it maybe is actually me and not entirely you, Portland men. For all of the blame, all of the nights with girlfriends lamenting Portland as "dating 'Nam," and all of the stories I've written about my wayward dating experiences giving y'all somewhat deprecating monikers, I sincerely apologize.

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