A few weeks ago, I announced The Dating Pact – an idea my roommate and I had to encourage one another to go on dates. I thought it’d be a great thing for all of you to try too – especially since actually getting off of your phone and out for a drink is really, really hard to do. (Or at least for me!)
This time last year, I was having a minor panic attack in the bathroom of a lounge in Flat Iron.
I was a little tipsy and my friend J was trying to calm me down, but there was no getting around my anxiety.
Do you see what I have to put up with out there? Dating SUCKS. It’s seriously the WORST. I tell you J, if I’m single this time next year, I will leave New York. I will go somewhere where it’s better and the guys are better. Seriously, it can’t be THIS bad everywhere.
A month after I started my blog in 2010, I took the bus from JFK into the city. As I got on the bus in my Jessica Simpson slingbacks (ridiculous, I know), the driver took zero pity on me and took off. I went crashing with my bag and my floppy hat right into the aisle. I looked up and locked eyes with a blue-eyed hunk who simply asked, “You alright?” before helping me to my feet.
I didn’t know it then, but that was the day I met my very first New York love, Scott.
My older cousin is getting married and invited me with a plus one. The thing is, I’m single so there’s no significant other to bring. I was thinking of bringing a girlfriend along but after thinking a while, I really feel like going without a date… would that be weird though? Is it fun to go alone to a wedding?
Right before I started writing this column, I broke up with Patrick. Doesn’t seem like a big deal (and in the scheme of things, it’s not; it wasn’t) but Patrick was the first guy in almost three years that I really (really) liked.
Or at least, I thought I did. In fact, I thought he could be a significant someone in my life, especially after our nearly 24-hour first date seemed to be a sign that there were really good things to come with this tall, handsome, stock-trading Greek. But like most plot lines in my dating life, I had to wear my rose-colored glasses long enough to get blinded, and finally see the truth.
When I started this blog, I made a vow to myself and to all of you that I wouldn’t use this place to manbash. Even with all of the terrible dates, disappointing break-ups and everything in between, I’ve never revealed an identity of the men I’ve dated or said things that weren’t true.
Well weren’t incredibly exaggerated, I should say.
I never wanted this space to be about the dudes – but about the girls and what it’s like to be a 20-something single gal dating, learning and growing in a big city. So while this post isn’t exactly man bashing… it’s a little more hater-y then my other blogs I’ve written.
I’m sorry I’m not sorry for posting this – but c’mon men.
Laura and I both wrote for Appalachian State’s college newspaper, The Appalachian as lifestyle reporters. After she graduated, she took a similar plunge – except instead of moving to New York, she went to Spain. I’ve always admired her bravery for making a big, big move, but like any relationship, her love affair with Spain was full of highs, lows and stolen moments. Below, she shares her experience. If you’d like to share your own falling in love story – from men to friendships to cities and everything else – email me. Learn more about Falling in Love on Fridays here.
Who I Became: A Love Affair With Spain
College was my dependable, fun, slightly hippie lover of 4 years… but when the going got rough, no one was surprised that college and I broke up – he wanted to stay in the same place, and I needed to move on.