I try not to get specific about what I specifically do for a living.
It’s hard — because I’m really excited about my job, even a year and a half after starting at iVillage. My days are filled with fun new stories to chase and interesting topics to discuss — but they aren’t exactly the conversations men particularly want to have.
I’m not sure what’s worse actually– telling a dude that I (like to) research and write about marriage, getting pregnant and having babies… Or that part of my job description requires me to call in vibrators to test or edit a slideshow where legal prostitutes in Nevada give (kinda awesome) sex tips. Add in the fact that I have a moderately-successful dating blog where I claim I’m addicted to love — and my freak flag tends to fly a little high.
Guys are often either really intimidated and think I want a family right this very second, get it in their head that I could possibly write about our date (as if!) or they ask way too inappropriate questions about sex right from the get-go on the very first date because apparently reporting about orgasms makes you the expert on them.
I’m not one to blush– I can really talk about anything and be quite comfortable (even that one time I explained some sex terms to my senior editors)– but I’m not one to talk in-depth to a near stranger about mating tactics. Especially a stranger that I assume, since he asked me out, could be interested in dating, (and yes, possibly mating with) me one day.
So I’ve been leaving out the details and my last name, when I’m just starting to get to know someone. I let it slip when I feel comfortable that they might like me for me — and not for my exciting job and interesting area of interest — and I see how they handle it. It’s not until after a while that I give enough info for them to Google me– it’s really not hard to read about my entire dating history on the Internet, and shouldn’t they learn it from me first?
But with the start of this year — I’ve not only been dating more (six dates already), I’ve also wanted to write more. And not particularly about the dates (none really impressed me enough to earn a spot on this blog), but just because I’ve missed expressing myself through words. Though I know it could scare them away, I’ve told every guy exactly what I do, exactly why I love it and exactly why I don’t give a damn if he gives one about it. Well maybe not in so many words, but I’ve been so concerned with not making someone feel threatened by my job that I’ve left out my passion. And that’s what makes me, me. I would think, it’s an attractive, alluring, intriguing part of my personality, and if I can move from North Carolina to New York and not only make it here, but love it here — then surely I can meet someone who isn’t freaked out about what I write about.
And so, I’m back.
Maybe not every day, but my goal is three to five blogs a week again. I haven’t been absent just because of men — I’ve been busy with everything else, too — but I was hesitant of interjecting new “characters” because Mr. Possibility became such a big part Confessions of a Love Addict when really, it was supposed to just be about me. Maybe the saga of what we were kept you all reading, but I hope the blogs about figuring out the dating world, believing in yourself beyond any shadow of a doubt, and those vulnerable, honest posts that make us all feel human, are the real reasons you come back to LoveAddict.
I don’t know what the new year holds — but I have a good feeling about it. And it feels so good to do this again. To share my thoughts, to be open about what I’m going through. To get it all off of my very-heavy chest. To read your comments and your tweets, and to get back into a community that I’ve always appreciated. And really missed.
So I hope I can win you back — and maybe I’ll even go through the 12 steps again. It never hurts to fall in love with yourself — over and over. Right?