If there’s one single characteristic that’s carried me through every terrible date, bitter break-up, sleeping with my ex and trying my damnedest to not give up on this elusive thing called love, it’s my optimism.
Know that emjoi that’s smiling and has hearts for eyes? That’s me.
More than anything else I value in a future partner — and in myself — is a person’s ability to see the bright side of things and to put others before himself to bring a bit more happiness into the world. I’ve been called a little naive before and that I look through rose-colored glasses, but what can I say? I like the view from here! It’s positive, encouraging, and keeps me keepin’ on.
So if you’re planning to be with me, here’s a few things you should know in advance:
1. I don’t understand — or tolerate — constant negativity. Continue reading
We really need to talk.
We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of years now. In that time, we’ve grown pretty close: I find myself searching for you when I’m waiting in line at Starbucks or when I need a break from editing at my beloved job. I often think of you when I’m heading to the ladies room or when I feel that small, haggard, terrified voice in the back of my mind that’s politely screaming: where the hell is he?!!
You made so many promises when we first met one another – when you encouraged me to talk about my interests and you gushed over my smiling, yet subtly sexy, poses. The one where I’m in a bikini in Mexico, the one where I’m on the merry-go-round in London. The classic, stereotypical one in front of the Eiffel Tower, and of course, the one of me trapezing by the pier, looking graceful as I sling myself toward the ground, dangling by a cable. Continue reading
In October of last year, with my mouth full of tortilla chips and tequila on my brain, I was talking about how long I’ve lived in New York, when my friend Erin interrupted me, “Linds, it won’t be four years in March that you’ve lived here. It’ll be five years!”
In that moment – and frankly, in this one – I was in disbelief that half of a decade has passed since those black Target pumps marched out of JFK into what, at the time, seemed like the start of everything.
I didn’t know it then – but it really was. March 14, 2010 was the beginning of what has become not a journey or a roller coaster, not a blog post or a story, not some romantic comedy or book that’s yet to be published… but the start of my adult life.
My first birthday in New York, before I started this blog a few days later. With Erin.
As I sat down to write this post, highlighting some profound lesson from many lessons and experiences in Manhattan (and Brooklyn and Queens), I kept coming up short. Every other year, I had a clear picture of what I wanted to write about: what it means to be a New Yorker, how the rain has followed all of my prized moments, how I almost gave up on New York (and myself) but didn’t, my own version of ‘Oh, the Places You’ll Go’ – but this year…
…I drew one hell of a big blank. Continue reading
I really hate being compared to Carrie Bradshaw, but I’m starting to come to terms with it. We might live in apartments the size of her closet and I might be looking in the windows of Jimmy Choo instead of shopping there – but she got one thing right: there is love in New York.
And for a while, we all believed it – at least the six years that Sex & the City was on – but somewhere between The Bachelor and everyone joining Tinder, we got lost.
I know I definitely did. I moved here with a few bags, full of my clothes, my hopes, my minimal savings and my one pair of fuck-me heels (from Target, thank you very much). I didn’t have an apartment or a job when I landed at JFK – but I knew everything would fall into place because I had faith. And a hell of lot of blind ambition.
Last week, I wrote a blog about things I’m embarrassed to tell my future husband. Much to my surprise, it went viral! I couldn’t believe all of the folks reaching out about the things I crave from someone – words of affirmation, lots of great sex, asking my dad for my hand in marriage – saying they wanted the same qualities.
In response to my list, Keith Dent, a blogger and marriage coach (and hubby with three kids) wrote what he needed from his wife. If you’re anything like me, this list just might bring ya to tears (I mean, c’mon, read #9 in my needs!).
Enjoy ladies, here’s a letter from your future hubby:
As your future husband, it was very refreshing to read your story before we met. I don’t meet too many women who are open an honest with their feelings.
I hope you don’t overlook me because I’m not that tall, dark and handsome guy that you always seem to notice. I’m on the sensitive side, but I know that when we meet our chemistry will be instantaneous.
Before we meet and start to make wedding plans, there is one thing you must know. I will have fears too. Not right away, but they will develop much later in our marriage. Continue reading
On my flight that was supposed to be six hours, but took nearly eight, I thought about the dates I’ve been on in the last few months…
-There was the one with the guy who told me there was no way I could write as much as he does every day, though he only writes two pages a day (Ha! Try at least 4 articles a day!)
-There was the one that I really liked – he was my very first Match date – but once he found out that I was a love writer, he never talked to me again.
-There was the one where the first date was great, but the second date was so strange that I couldn’t remember why I was attracted to him to begin with. Continue reading
When I was five years old, I marched into the living room in my Disney princess dress-up gown, holding flowers I picked from outside and told (yes, told, not asked) my dad he was going to marry me. Always one to play along, he agreed and my mom served as the preacher as we said our vows. 26 years later, I’m still hoping to meet someone who has even half the heart of my incredible father.
He’s gone from my prince charming and hero to my drinking buddy and unofficial financial advisor, but through it all, he’s always held a piece of my heart. That’s why he’s the most important man in my life, and will continue to be, until someone quite remarkable comes along. Here’s 14 reasons he’s the best:
1. He teaches you to be brave (because if you fall, he’s there to catch you).
My dad taught me to drive a car, ride a bike, steer a jet ski, and swing from the very-dangerous rope swing into the lake (Sorry, Mom!). Whenever I was afraid to take a risk – even if it was just diving into the deep end – he’d remind me: “You’re a Tigar, you can do anything!” I still say it to myself now when I’m scared. Continue reading