What would life be like if I was ever satisfied?

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As soon as the thunder cracked, I knew it was going to be bad. Another twenty minutes and I don’t think I would have made it out at all. An entire section of 89A had already turned into a flowing river.

Before navigating out of the torrential downpour, I spent half an hour in my Jeep crying, wishing and praying that I didn’t have this independent streak and that there was someone else I could hand control over to that would just magically get done what I had to do and then do about 18 other things.

In April of…


It lasted 30 seconds and made me an infinitely happier person.

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I have a teenage daughter. She brings me absolute happiness 90% of the time I’m around her. The remaining 10% is as frustrating as it could possibly be. This usually has something to do with a cat box which may or may not have been cleaned as it supposed to be. But, that’s a completely different story for another day.

Driving around running errands this summer, we pulled up to a stoplight. The light had just turned red. She rolled down her window and motioned to the older man driving the car next to us to roll down his window…


I’m not getting any younger so I might as well do it now.

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The path to self-love and radical self-acceptance is a long one. I’ve been walking it for a long time and I can honestly say I have turned back and started over more than a few times. It’s not easy. It sounds big and bold but it’s dark and unruly regardless of the number of women who have traversed it before me.

Without fail, I get to the point where I start to feel remotely okay about the direction I’m heading and then someone or something throws 9,382 images at me designed to make me feel like there is nothing but…


It doesn’t matter which side of this statement you’re on. It’s hard.

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Technically speaking, it was our fifth date. Of course, there were three years between our first and second date so the timeline is a little weird, to begin with. So, maybe it was our fourth date. It really doesn’t matter.

There was a crossroads I found myself at that night. I saw it coming.

I’m not sure what compelled me to connect with him a second time other than the last three years seemed to have done him well. I had grown as a person, too. I have more of an idea of what I want. He’s independent. …


A woman’s murder doesn’t even get to be about her.

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When the news alert came through on social media that Mollie Tibbit’s killer had been sentenced to life in prison this week, I felt both a wave of justice and an unsettling resurgence of anger.

I felt the need to remind people that Mollie Tibbits was on a run when a man drove by, saw her, thought she was hot, circled back, approached her, and then fought with her after she rebuked him and he grabbed her. Then he kidnapped her, stabbed her to death, and dumped her body in a cornfield.

I hate that I would even have to…


A quick guide to not being creepy or weird.

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I recently wrote an article about a man who walked up to a nice-looking woman in a restaurant and got shot down like a stunt plane in Top Gun. There were comments. So. Many. Comments. There was one that popped up a number of times that warrants some discussion, one question that I have been mulling over for days now.

“Well, how are men supposed to meet women and talk to them these days?”

I truly love the idea of meeting people organically. Humans are inherently social people. Opportunities to meet others endlessly present themselves. This just requires some finesse…


Hint: We were set up for this dating fail long ago.

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I had two very different conversations with two different people on the same subject: how someone’s kids become an issue for people dating over a certain age. That certain age, it seems, is about 45. There’s a reason for that number and there’s a reason for the issue.

Of course, some of you may be thinking that because you don’t have kids and you’re under 45, this is not going to be pertinent to you. Give me a minute. You’ll be 45 someday, God willing and the creek don’t rise.

One conversation was with a woman in her mid-40s who…


Men are single because women have high standards.

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Yesterday, I took myself out to lunch. When I’m by myself, I always sit at the bar. I feel like it’s courteous. This way, I don’t take up a table and the bar always offers surprising company I wouldn’t otherwise meet sitting by myself.

I sat on the corner next to an older woman finishing her glass of wine. On my other side were two young ladies in their late 20s. As my glass of wine was placed in front of me, a man crossed the restaurant and started chatting up one of the ladies.

In the span of five…


Now may not be your time, and it certainly isn’t mine.

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Once again, I have found myself on the business end of a breakup. When this happens, there is always an internal struggle for me. Part of me feels like if I don’t get back on the horse, I am intentionally hiding my heart away from people who may be worthy of it. Another part recognizes the great value of hitting the pause button.

What I have found true more times than not is that the break always spurs the greatest period of growth for me, and that excites me more than the idea of sitting across from a stranger for…

Vanessa Torre

Flaming pinball, nerd, music lover, wine snob, horrible violin player. No, I won’t stop taking pictures of my drinks. vanessaltorre@gmail.com IG: vanessaltorre

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