Right around this time every year I start to sulk, wondering why I’m still single and asking myself if it’s really necessary for the folks over at Kay Jewelers to inundate us with sappy commercials every two and a half minutes. I usually cope by drowning my dark thoughts in turkey and extra large glasses of cabernet … but not this year.
This year, as Thanksgiving approaches, I’ve decided to stop dwelling on my singledom, and instead, come up with a little wish list for the man who (I hope) will one day pull up a seat beside me at my family’s Thanksgiving feast. That man, whoever he may be, is gonna have a lot of tests to pass. I hope he’s up for the challenge: Keep reading »
After a relationship ends, you prepare yourself for hard nights missing the other person. Your friends comfort you by telling you someone else out there is even better for you, and that happiness is just around the corner. But no one prepares you for the loss of the people who come with the breakup; the innocent bystanders left in the dust. What happens to them? Friendships end and family ties are severed, all with the understanding that it would make things easier. But does it?
Last night, my sister called to tell me that my ex-boyfriend’s mother passed away— a woman who I was very fond of and close to for the more than three years I dated her son, Pete.* Keep reading »
When I arrived at work the other day, there was an unread message in my inbox from a coworker with the subject line “Would It Be Weird If…”
I clicked on the message, eager to discover the second half of her cliffhanger. The email said:
Would it be weird if I tried to set you up with a friend? His name is Rishi* (he’s Indian) and he’s really nice and attractive and funny.
My first thought wasn’t Oh God, not another doomed setup. Nor was it, Finally! Someone who I didn’t meet on OKCupid. Instead, it was, But my dad would never approve. Keep reading »
This morning on my way into work, I hopped on Facebook to see what was happening in the world— and instantly, I regretted it.
The first thing I saw on my newsfeed was an album from a college friend’s bachelorette party. That’s nice, I thought, as I looked at the pictures of her all drunk and smiley. And then I remembered how she cheated (a couple of times) on her soon-to-be husband when we were seniors. She covered her tracks and her boyfriend never found out. Having been played by Patrick Bateman, my own feelings of anger began to surface as I scrolled through photo after photo of her in her pink veil. She was finally getting her happy ending, but in my eyes, her relationship was a sham. I continued to scroll down the page, in search of something that didn’t annoy me.
Surprise! An engagement. A high school girlfriend of mine was proposed to over the weekend in a pumpkin patch. How fall of her fiancé. Letters forming the question “Will you marry me?” were carved into lit-up pumpkins. I have to admit, it was very cute. She inset a photo of her engagement ring over a snapshot of the pumpkins to announce the news. I always found her to be a bit high-strung, but hey. She found someone who loves her enough to carve 15 jack o’ lanterns, so this means there’s still hope for me. I kept moving through my newsfeed. Keep reading »
I was an hour into my first date with Hot Doctor when he moved in for the kill. Lucky for him, I was so totally taken off guard by his kiss that I didn’t have the wherewithal to swat him away. Less than 10 seconds later, he went for my boob, and then it was Game Over.
“I thought I made it perfectly clear to you that I wasn’t looking to hook up,” I said, pushing Hot Doctor away.
“Well, you did, but that all goes out the window if you like someone right?” he responded, clearly confused.
What made him think that I liked him?
He looked nothing like the photos from his OKCupid profile — he had darker, thinner hair, was a few inches shorter and looked at least five years older. We agreed to meet up for drinks once he finished his nightly review class for his medical boards, but after a delayed dismissal and a few wrong turns, it was 10:45 p.m. before he made it to my neighborhood. At that point, knowing that my roommate was home and within earshot of the living room, I opted to just invite him in for a drink. It was already late on a work night, and if I’d had it my way, I would have already been counting shirtless Channing Tatums in my dreams for at least 30 minutes by then. Unfortunately, the doctor had arrived for his house call. Keep reading »
When I first agreed to write Dater X, there were several things I accepted from the get-go: I knew that this column would require me to reveal intimate details about my personal life to complete strangers. I understood that in doing so, my sharing would be therapeutic, as I’ve always been someone who learns, heals and grows by sharing my stories—especially the most painful and heartbreaking ones. I also came to terms with the fact that my weekly musings would be met with various opinions and judgments, and that not everything I wrote would be well received. Above all, I felt confident that, despite any criticism that might come my way, I was ready for all of it; including the part where I find love at the end of this whole thing (fingers crossed). Keep reading »