marriage

What Is Love? Baby, Don’t Hurt Me: Re-Learning Romantic Love

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      ImageToday’s Mood Ingredients: Fearful, Hopeful, Independent, Open.

I’ve been single for 7 years. SEVEN. I haven’t been lonely for any of them, & it’s not for lack of interested parties or for lack of halfhearted attempts. I always figured I was single for this long because I was making a lot of changes in my life, switching careers, getting life in order, reconnecting with friends, etc. It was only a few months ago (apparently I’m slow on the uptake) that I realized the real reason why I’m single & never ready to mingle. Fear. It’s not a fear of commitment because I’m the most freakishly committed girlfriend you could ever have. Definitely not a fear of monogamy because cheaters makes me homicidal (in a good way?). Somehow, unbeknownst to me, I’ve developed a fear of intimacy (of all kinds) & a fear of loss of freedom. So, as a 32 year old woman who likes relationships & wants children, how do I make this work? Obviously by making my fears public to the world, thereby forcing me to make changes..or at least start by writing about making changes (everything’s a process, guys).

For whatever reason (exes, circumstances, experiences), over the years I’ve begun shying away from emotional & physical contact with people who may be potential mates. I don’t feel like re-telling my life story on a date (I mean, how many times can you go over your own life? I literally started boring myself), I run away like Phoebe Buffay in Central Park (you so remember that episode) at the first sign of someone trying to hold my hand or anything remotely physical (my aversion to PDAs are a long-standing thing so this isn’t really so surprising, but I suppose to recoil from a hand like it’s a mutant tarantula is a little much). Past relationships haven’t turned out for the best for a variety of reasons (infidelities-them, overanalysis/need to prove myself correct when Sherlocking the aforementioned infidelities-me, insecurities-us); & though I’m civil/friends with those little culprits now (which is something fabulous that I think everyone should do if feasible, because it removes a LOT..not all, but still..of emotional cargo & has lightened the load in my life significantly), they clearly impacted the relationship issues I face now. Currently, the thought of a boyfriend makes me break out into hives because I think of all of the weekends/evenings that would have to go into dinners and family meetings at some point and struggling to find my alone time which I so treasure right now. I worry that all of the grandiose dreams I have for myself & my life will end up playing second fiddle to my relationship & at my age, the problem (supposedly) is that I don’t have the luxury of time to delay either my life’s goal or my relationship future. 

So, how does a person re-learn romantic love? I mean, I don’t have to start all over in the general love department because I love my friends in the adore kinda way & I love my family in the obsessed/don’t mess with them/they can never leave me kinda way (that’s an unhealthiness best explained in another post) & I love my dog in the you’re the best thing with 4 legs and a tongue ever created kinda way. But how do you re-learn the I’m-in-love-with-you-you’re-really-attractive-let’s-hang-out-a-lot-and-maybe-make-out kind of love? Trial and error. Perhaps being less cocooned will help, perhaps letting my guard down (SLOWLY) will help people to believe that I’m not, in fact, some intimidating unfeeling ice queen, but rather a vulnerable person with concerns and fears and aspirations and dreams. I’ve also learned that taking all of the pressures coming from other people around me & placing them on myself and the people I meet is not about to help make me open and available, it basically just overwhelms & drives you into a scared turtle state. I’ve also realized that though I have standards, and I refuse to compromise on some of them because I am well aware of what type of individual and what type of relationship I deserve, that some of them may be impossible for anyone to meet & maybe that’s the sole reason why I put them there; so I can say, “Oh well, you don’t meet this requirement of being a chest hair-less dancer who chews with his mouth closed and is sarcastic and doesn’t have a certain last name” & consequently not have to get to know those who don’t fit those standards. I suppose these “realizations” or epiphanies or whatever you want to call them are the first step to moving towards a life that I’m actually willing to share with someone else outside of my carefully & meticulously maintained world of weirdos. That, combined with a strange cocktail of minor narcissism/obsession with genetics/hyper-maternal instinct that makes me want to see more little me’s in the world, will hopefully be the propellors that catapult me into the arena of companionship and romantical love & stabilize me there while allowing me to revel with my own individual identity intact.

There’s no definitive answer on how to feel romantic love again, but there are definitive methods to the madness, and at this moment in time, in the melodic words of Alicia Keys, if you ask me, I’m ready.

Today’s Interlude(s): “Back In The High Life Again,” by Steve Winwood & “Not A Bad Thing” by Justin Timberlake

ALL THE SINGLE LADIES: FLIRTY 30’S VS. DIRTY 30’S

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Hope, Happiness, Furor, Independence, Strength, Love.

If there’s anything that Sex & The City has taught us single 30-somethings in NYC, or any city for that matter, it’s that whether or not you’re anywhere near finding your Mr. (or Mrs.) Big, the dating scene will provide you with much fodder to talk about over brunch with the girls. The constant he-said/she-saids, the will they/won’t theys, the should I/shouldn’t I-s often turn Sunday afternoon mimosas into Monday morning hangovers.

Most days I feel like a combination of Taylor Swift, a Disney princess, & Daria. None of the looks, some of the grace, all of the snark..in one messily wrapped romantic present; using both meanings of that last word. Other days, I feel like an old lady who’s running out of time. All of the above are valid. As a 32 year old person who has been single for the past 7 years, you’d think I’d be missing being in a relationship. The truth is, I’m more content than I have been in a long time. That’s not some bitter-but-Beyoncé-esque-independent-woman sentiment either. At this point in my life, I just feel like I would like to concentrate on myself; my career (big change from medical school to fashion designer), my family (whom I have neglected in the past when consumed in a relationship), my nephew (who is my lifetime Valentine), and just my own overall well-being. Now, if I were 18-23 years old and saying this, everyone would be lauding me on my thought process & how I’m “so mature, that’s a great way to find yourself and see what you want out of life!” but at 32, the same people are literally distressed for me; “Oh wow, don’t you want to have children? Aren’t you worried you’ll be alone & seek companionship when it’s too late? Time is running out! Let me set you up, I know this friend who knows a friend!” No. Sorry. I do not want to meet some random human that you know through your boss’ secretary’s dog’s groomer. Time is not running out. I’m 32! Hopefully I’m not about to disappear tomorrow; I survived the End of the World in 2012 after all! Yes, children are important to me. I want little mini-me creatures running amok in the world causing hilarity and absurdity in the lives of the population more than anything else in the world, but there are options. We don’t live in the age where single parenthood, freezing eggs, surrogacy, etc. are not available to us. Not to say that I want any of those things, but though I do want to be happily married someday, I don’t think a husband is the be-all & end-all of my world. For those who know me, you know my favorite woman of all time besides my mother, grandmother, & godmother, is Mindy Kaling. And you know what, unsurprisingly enough, she said it best:

“I would love to be married. But it’s not a necessity like the way that I feel I need & want to have children. It would be wonderful to have a husband, & I would feel blessed to do it. But I would feel sad for the rest of my life if I had no kids.”

Plus, between trying an online site & finding a couple of nice guys who weren’t quite my type & some who were more arrogant than Charlie Sheen on a tiger blood rant, and making myself “more available & approachable” by going out to various events (aside from the bar scene, FYI) and nearly being mauled by someone else’s face on mine with the witty inebriated pickup line of “Whatever, can I just kiss you now!?,” the dating scene isn’t all that savory right now in my experience. Flirting has turned into what I like to call “dirting;” the new wham bam thank you ma’am of the current supposedly adult-ish generation, but without even the facade of genuine interest.

There are plenty of think pieces, blog posts, hell, whole books dedicated to “the single 30-something,” & most often, they are directed towards the single 30-something woman. I tried a Google image search using “single 30-something women” to find a picture for this post & except for pictures of SJP, Cynthia Nixon, Kim Cattrall, & Kristin Thomas, all I saw were pictures of sad lonely women, a headline of Kim Kardashian saying “I Thought I’d Be Married By Now,” & a book titled something like 30-Something, Why Am I Still Single? I relate to NONE of the above. And this isn’t some feminist rant, but come on! All of my friends are working, traveling, creating..living..single or otherwise. They aren’t sitting & wallowing in their singledom, they’re enjoying it, & some want to keep it that way forever while the others are dating or content in the belief that “it’ll happen when it happens.”

Basically all I have to say to those who keep asking me when it’s going to be my turn, today on Valentine’s Day, and every other day is this:

Bitch, don’t kill my vibe.

Today’s Interlude: Michael Bublé, “Haven’t Met You Yet”