People in general and women in particular have great difficulty telling people, “No.” As a result, we get worn down, stresssed out, double-booked and overwhelmed. It’s not good.

In the book Be Careful What You Pray For, author Larry Dossey tells about an interesting study involving AIDS patients. Researchers found that some of the patients were living well beyond their anticipated life-span. Their secret - a common  personality pattern - was found in the answer to a single question: If a friend asked you to do a favor and you didn’t want to do it, could you refuse the request?

All of the long-term survivors said that, yes, they could refuse a friend.

Perhaps part of true authenticity is allowing a little of that God-given selfishness and self-preservation to bubble to the surface. Children (such as six-year-old girls) do this quite well and quite naturally, too. Grown-up girls, don’t do this so well. But extra-grown-up girls (middle-aged women) sometimes re-learn that a little selfishness can be good.

Women, as they age, start to shed the many layers of fake personas that the world (and/or society and/or parents, etc.) have forced them to cultivate. Buried underneath all those layers of regret and coulda/shoulda/wouldas, you’ll find a woman’s authenticity. And as that true self emerges, women start to find a little peace and a little joy and a little contentment. And that’s when their real beauty starts to shine. And that’s also when their self-esteem starts to recover.

And this helped me to understand another question that plagued me: Why are women so unhappy with themselves? Maybe it’s because they’re so busy playing so many roles for so many people that they have utterly forgotten what made their once-six-year-old heart sing with joy. While countless self-improvement books urge women to get outside of ourselves and focus more on someone else’s real needs, I know plenty of women who need to focus more on themselves, and less on the rest of the world.  As Dossey’s example shows, selfishness has salutary benefits too.

Good Christian Man Seeks Good Christian Woman for Friday Night Booty Call.

That’s what his profile should have said. I found him on a popular Christian dating site. The relationship started off so good and happy and full of hope, and it ended on a very sour note when he told me that he didn’t feel any “chemistry.”

“No chemistry between us?” I asked him. “What are you talking about? Are you certifiable?”

I’d heard that dreaded phrase so many times before, but this time, it came as a surprise and a shock. Date #32 and I had had so much in common on so many levels, not to mention our long talks about God and spirituality. We’d had so many interesting chats about our faith and our study of the Bible and what it meant to be a Christian. We’d been on a handful of dates and when we were together, we had a lot of fun. I’d scored high marks with him in the categories of intellect, wit and good companionship.

Too many men had dumped me unceremoniously with this “no chemistry” garbage, but this guy? It was not believable. It seemed disingenuous at best, and an outright lie at worst.

“Maybe,” I told him, “You’re just too much of a loser to be honest with me and tell me that I’m not pretty enough for you?”

He said a few things but all his comments smacked of insincerity. He’d been hoping to get away clean and I was ruining it for him. The conversation was ugly and hard and it hurt like hell.

I thought we’d had so much in common and we had so much fun and there was so much that was right between us. But a cursory glance at his wife’s many photos made this fact clear: He probably wanted a blonde Episcopalian. His ex-wife was beautiful. She was petite. She was short and slim and had enormous attributes and could have been a model. He’d had that once. I guess he wanted the same thing again. He wanted a girl just like the girl that he’d married once before.

But those were just the meanderings of my overtaxed and overtired brain. What I did know, beyond any doubt, was that he did not want me.

Before we parted forever, he made one last suggestion for a “special” relationship: We’ll never have a romantic relationship, he told me one night on the phone, but could we get together from time to time and just have hot sex?

Every time I see television commercials for this dating site, I want to send them my testimonial.

“Thanks to Blankety-blank.com, I got me a regular Friday night booty call!”

No thanks, was my response to Mr. Christian-in-name-only. It was a truly crummy ending to what should have been a decent relationship between two Christians. Because of this man and his abhorrent behavior, I revised my mission statement that night and removed the statement, “He must be a Christian.”

Next:  On my 33rd date, my life flashed before  my eyes. I should have refused the date when he recommended we meet in a secluded place…