Two days before I turned 50, while vacationing in Rancho Mirage, Calif., I was looking to get from one end of the sprawling spa and golf resort to the other on a little golf cart shuttle. As I approached, the driver was loading in two couples plus their golf clubs and apologetically said she couldn’t fit me on this one.

I went to sit on the nearby bench to wait for the next shuttle when the two men — sitting in the back seat facing out — motioned to me that I could fit in between them. There was maybe a foot of space between them, so I laughed thinking they were kidding. But they persisted and I really wanted to get to the spa for my appointment, so I climbed in and squeezed between them.

We laughed at the tight fit, talked about where we were from, and then we got to their stop. As the four of them got up and gathered their clubs, I wished them well and Happy New Year. One of the women threw me a look. Icy cold.

Really? It’s not like I gave the men a lap dance. I took them up on a nice gesture. I confess that the almost-50-year-old part of me derived some satisfaction from thinking I could make this young woman feel threatened.

Sister, some unsolicited advice from an objective outsider: Please re-evaluate your relationship if you don’t feel you can trust your husband or boyfriend. What are you doing? Why am I almost positive you gave him an earful about it? You’re setting yourself up for a life of misery, looking over your shoulder and doubting yourself.

I wish I could say this isn’t coming from a place of experience, but it is. It took me a long, long time to understand that my viewing every woman who came into contact with a guy I love as a threat was a major reflection on me and my own insecurities. When it got to the point where I was upset because he knew the cashier at a local coffee shop, I should have seen the writing on the wall. But no.

Years later, when he was no longer in my life, I finally got it. That behavior is unattractive to others, it means something within me wasn’t resolved, it often makes the woman on the receiving end feel like crap. I could go on, but you get the drift.

If this makes you feel defensive, you might want to read it again. And again. You’re welcome.