Daters of the Friskyverse, I have been tossing around the idea of writing about dating resolutions for the New Year. And then I thought, Nah. Last year, my resolution was to make the first move. I did. We dated for a while and then broke up. We’re still friends. Resolution accomplished. Good for me. I’m sure you’re planning to make some dating resolutions of your own, aren’t you? Or maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re bitter about dating right now. I wouldn’t blame you if you were. It’s fucking hard.
I decided to go in a different direction this week. I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to all of you who’ve read this column in the past year. I want you to know that it means a lot to me. It’s really difficult to write about your dating life in a public forum — especially when you’re trying to muddle through it yourself. I get so wrapped up in all of the emotions and trying to process them and getting over my insecurities enough to write about them that sometimes I forget anyone reads this column. (Or, at least, it’s easier to tell myself that no one reads so I don’t freak out every week.) Keep reading »
In case you missed it, the guy and I split right after Thanksgiving. That means that the weeks leading up to my birthday and Christmas have been kind of lame. Actually, that’s not true. They weren’t half bad, just kind of meh emotionally. You could say I haven’t been brimming over with holiday spirit.
But still, I’ve been doing lots of yoga, reading depressing fiction, shopping impulsively for tights, watching cooking shows and spending time with friends. I went to a fancy spa and got a massage for my 34th birthday. And then I consumed massive amounts of Blue Point oysters and champy with my best friend. It was solid way to celebrate my birthday/ the world not ending. Everything was fine until someone close to me said: “You shouldn’t wait, you should just get back on OK Cupid right away.” Keep reading »
Every dealbreaker that any boyfriend I’ve ever had has shown itself by interacting with his family. The guy whose father had been cheating for years? Yeah, he cheated on me. The guy who seemed paranoid that I’d dislike his kids? He was super insecure. In retrospect, I should have heeded these warnings more. My therapist will give me three gold stars for saying this and it’s true: we all have been molded by our experiences with our families, for good or for ill. And that’s why most of us are crazy.
After the jump, six booby traps to look out for if you spend the holidays with his family: Keep reading »
After every breakup, I spend time — copious amounts of time, too much goddamn time – pouring over every detail, trying to figure out what I did wrong this time. I call this “taking personal responsibility.” My best friend calls it “spiraling.” Leaving yoga class this weekend, my voice trembling and defeated, I declared about my recent breakup: “It’s my fault. I pick the wrong men.”
This is when my best friend started laughing at me. Hysterically. “You’re spiraling,” she said. “I’m only going to say this once: You did nothing wrong. He wasn’t right for you, and you both acknowledged that as soon as you knew it. You did everything right. So, I refuse to listen to you if you’re going to blame yourself. You need to stop.”
She was right. I was being ridiculous. It’s no wonder my first instinct is to blame myself. The culture of single blaming and shaming is pervasive. I think the world tends to forget: being coupled is not an achievement. Not being coupled is not a failure. Being in a relationship, getting married, shacking up, call it whatever you want, is a life choice, born of opportunity. It’s two people being in the right place at the right time and wanting the same things. It’s an opportunity that’s seized. While a solid relationship can make you grow as a person, the mere fact that you’re coupled does not make you a better person.
Earlier that morning, a married friend of mine sent me a link to Tracy McMillian’s articles Why You’re Not Married and the charming follow up Why You’re Still Not Married. “Have you seen these? What do you think?” she asked. “They seem offensive.” Keep reading »
Breakups always suck, no matter what, for both dumper and dumpee, or even if it’s mutual. But there are certain kinds of breakups that suck worse than others. That’s just true, the same way that certain ways of dying suck worse than others, in your sleep versus slowly and painfully of cancer. God, this is getting really macabre really fast. I’m sorry.
You can probably tell by my tone (and the fact that I’m listening to The Smiths) that I’ve just gone through a breakup. As some of you know, I was trying to be Switzerland, which worked for a while, and then I couldn’t remain neutral any longer. Our breakup was mutual and amicable and about as pleasant as something so unpleasant could be. I’m grateful for that. But still, BLERGH.
Here’s the thought I’m left with at the end of this relationship (to quote a Broadway song because I love Broadway musicals and I don’t care if that’s embarrassing): “It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish.” Keep reading »
Breakups suck. Despite all the lessons and advice our parents teach us, nothing really prepares us to fall in love with someone and then have that person choose not to be with us anymore. With a broken heart and a shattered ego, our brain demands explanations.We crave resolution and closure. But we rarely get what we desire. One magical date and he didn’t call again, why? Two weeks of texting and flirting on Facebook and then nothing, why? One month spent dating a guy you were ambivalent about only to have him dump you, why?
Frankly, asking why is a colossal waste of time. Keep this word in your back pocket every time you are tempted to contemplate a dating scenario gone awry: Next. Next is your best friend when it comes to dating, hook-ups, friends with benefits, and all the rest. Keep reading »