I support all forms of self-love, but Nadine, the”Anderson” guest who married herself, makes me feel uncomfortable. If you’re really owning that you’re responsible for your own happiness and committed to finding everything you need within yourself, there’s no need for a public ceremony to prove it. There are other less ostentatious ways to celebrate self-growth and self-acceptance. I think being truly comfortable with yourself means it not being such a big issue in your day-to-day existence. Nadine still seems raw about her past issues — she tears up while talking about them. Her self-marriage seems more like a band-aid on an open wound than a celebration. I’m sorry, but this reeks of attention-whoredom to me, as Anderson Cooper seems to insinuate. Keep reading »
Tag Archives: dating story
When I decided to visit one of my best friends from college in her new city of Austin, Texas, I was 26, single, and crashing with my parents in suburban New Jersey. It had been more than a year since I’d so much as shared a bed with a guy, even for one night. I was experiencing more than a sexual dry-spell; it was a full-fledged draught. I hoped the long weekend away would include, at the very least, an innocent make out session. For my own sanity, I needed to break the streak.
I’d long struggled with the concept of desiring sex. Having been through 12 years of Catholic school, (16 if you count college), I’d grew up with crucifixes in the classroom and religion courses, which taught me pre-marital sex was a sin. But by the time I was a high school sophomore, as cliché as it sounds, everyone was doing it. My pack of girlfriends and I were in serious relationships, our boyfriends wanted to have sex, and we were just as curious. I tried to imagine a half dozen well-mannered girls being turned away at the pearly gates for having slept with our first loves. It just didn’t make sense to me. So I lost my virginity just shy of my 16th birthday to my first love. Keep reading »
On Friday night, I had an online date that really fizzled. Everything was going just fine over chips and guac until he majorly stuck his foot in his mouth. He started talking about his ex-girlfriends (always a red flag!) and mentioned that several were depressed. He ended up giving much more than he got back in these relationships, he said. Women with depression are way too needy. He won’t date one again.
Well then, I thought to myself. I guess we should just get the check! I tried to be polite about what he was telling me. I suggested perhaps women with depression are attractive to him in some way, seeing how the pattern has repeated itself many times. I said that people with mental illness need to take care of themselves first, not be taken care of by anyone else, and maybe he might want to look into why he dates women who turn out to be “needy.” And then when I shared with him that I, actually, have had depression for years, he got very uncomfortable and embarrassed. Keep reading »
For the longest time, I have only had one guy friend. And I used to date him, in college. Which complicates things. It makes my husband Bear uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable, too. Not the him being my friend part. That’s fine. It happened naturally. We’re horrible gossips together. But I wish I could erase our dating past. I shouldn’t have dated him. Even while I was dating him, I was hazily aware of that.
I am bad at guy friends. I have only had a few. Which makes me totally uncool, I know. Keep reading »
I’ve been thinking a lot about a date I had this weekend. I’m not sure that the guy and I are a right fit for some compatibility reasons, but we did end up having an interesting conversation over coffee on Saturday night. We were discussing the different ways that online dating sucks for girls and for guys. Girls, I was telling him, are inundated with creepy, overly sexual messages from random dudes, including dudes who are way, way, waaaaay too old for us. And this guy was telling me how for dudes, one of the worst things he experiences on a date with a girl is when she is too guarded and gives off a vibe of “I don’t need you.”
The stereotype may be that women are “too needy,” this guy told me, but the reality of dating strong, successful, accomplished, financially independent women is the exact opposite. “Okay, great, so what role am I supposed to have?” This guy asked me hypothetically. “It’s great if a girl’s got her life together. I think that’s awesome! But I need her to want me to be there because she needs a partner in some way, or else, what’s the point?” Keep reading »
Now that Mother’s Day is over, it’s time for some real talk on this “mothering” thing. Own own mom might be in line for sainthood, but we’ve dated some dudes whose mamas made “Monster-In-Law” look like an episode of “Teletubbies.”
My personal least-favorite mother-of-an-ex-boyfriend was the one who didn’t think I was good enough for her son because I didn’t attend an Ivy League college and repeatedly put down my writing career. This she-beast asked me about my salary and insinuated more than a few times that I should get a ”respectable” job in finance or law. I guess loving her son with all of my heart was not good enough?
I’m not the only one with a nightmare mom-in-law. Anonymous tales from the Frisky dating crypt, after the jump: Keep reading »
I’ve been with my boyfriend for two years now and this past month, we saw each other a lot more frequently (i.e. every day) since my parents weren’t in town. Essentially, we were pretty much living together for that month. We would see each other after classes, go out to eat together, make dinner, etc. I feel that from this past month, I can sense that he is not as affectionate to me as we used to be — after sex, we would just go to sleep and not really cuddle). Little things he does are starting to bother me too, like laziness. It’s nothing major, but I guess it’s something you really see with time.
Is it normal to feel like you’re a little more disconnected when you’re living together vs. not? It’s only temporary, so I’m not sure if this is a sign of things in our future if we were to get married? Read more …
While most will probably remember 2012 as the “Year Of The YOLO” (and by “most” I mean “like seven people”), it holds special significance for me because it’ll likely be the first year since 2002 where I spent the entire year single. I haven’t completed a full calendar year yet — May will make it seven months since the former Lady Champ and I decided to go our separate ways — but because I seem to enjoy doing random anthropological experiments on myself for absolutely no reason (and because I’m an INTJ and INTJs apparently suck at relationships), I’m confident that I’ll make it to 2013 without having to change my Facebook relationship status again.
Anyway, if I could sum up my seven months of singledom in one word, it would most likely be “interesting.” Read more …
Doing my time online dating, I’ve developed strong opinions about a lot of things. Handlebar mustaches? NO. Ayn Rand followers? Next. Men who tell girls not to contact them if you’re “crazy”? I hope you die alone! (Also, does any woman actually self-diagnose as “crazy”?)
My strongest opinion when it comes to dating — which has become the subject of many an impassioned Frisky office debate — is the ideal location for a first date. I’ve noticed that lots of guys have the best intentions when it comes to picking a first date spot but oftentimes fail. Maybe this is not a problem for people who live in the ‘burbs or small cities; perhaps there is a “town center” where all the restaurants and bars are located. But in larger cities with complicated public transit systems — Los Angeles, Boston, Washington, D.C., my home turf of New York City — a lady could end up traveling an hour-plus getting to a date. And then have to sell her firstborn child to pay for it.
So I thought I’d offer a few thoughts — for dudes and girls alike, it’s 2012 people! — on how to pick a place for a first date. Keep reading »
You meet a great guy. You start dating. At first you’re seeing each other once or twice a week and after a month it’s up to three or four. You start having sleepovers and pretty soon there’s “the toothbrush discussion.” Then one day you wake up and can’t remember the last time you actually slept at your own place; it’s just an expensive unkempt storage unit and you have the dust bunnies and dead plants to prove it.
Considering that you spend almost all of your time at your boyfriend’s place, moving in together is just easier. And there are some pretty logical advantages. Keep reading »