When I matched with a tall, seemingly-charismatic man with a big smile online, I’ll be the first to admit I was a little skeptical. He looked almost too good to be true, and when he made reservations for our first date instead of leading it up to the happy hour gods, I found that old familiar voice in the back of my head that warns: “Uh, oh. This could be trouble.”
A few drinks and a shared appetizer later, we were walking around, chatting and stopping to kiss underneath the light and the allure of the night, and that voice was only getting louder. By the time he walked me home, said he couldn’t wait to see me again and texted me when he got home, the voice was so loud and my mind was so foggy that I could barely come up with a clever text in return.
The next few days were intense – wondering when he’d ask me out again, trying to play it cool while still seeming interested. Trying to decipher the intention between those blue iMessage bubbles and bugging my (incredibly patient) friends to help me analyze. And as it has happened more times than I’d care to admit – we never did go out again. He ended up disappearing, just as so many have before him, into what I can only imagine is a world of eligible, yet emotionally unavailable men. (Let’s all avoid going there, k?) Continue reading
Though I’ve lived in New York for five years and consider myself some sort of a hybrid of the East Coast, the truth is: I’m a born and raised Southerner.
I may not have an accent (sorry, dudes, I know it’s apparently sexy) and I take my tea unsweetened, but when it comes to chivalry and the importance of gestures in dating, my North Carolina roots always shine through.
If you’re lucky enough to be graced with the presence of a Southern lady, here’s a few things you need to know about dating these so-called belles (ahem, never call me that):
1. We don’t mind a little dirt.
I grew up next to a farm where I happily retrieved eggs from the hens for my neighbor every day after school. My dad taught me to drive a tractor when I was 1-year-old, and I learned how to ride a bike on a gravel road (I have the scars on my knee to prove it).
I spent more time outside than inside, and though I might rock stilettos and Calvin Klein dresses, I don’t mind a little dirt.
Every time this blog has crossed my mind the last month, I’ve felt a sense of guilt. Sometimes, even dread. Believe me, this little spot in the big ‘ol internet has built my life in so many incredible ways, I could never truly complain, and it’s not the blog’s fault for how I feel…
…but I can’t hide how I do feel anymore. You guys… I’m burnt out.
It’s not that I’ve given up on love (I still believe in it more than anything else). It’s not that I don’t want to go on dates (though I’d rather the good start outweighing the bad). It’s not that I don’t want to help inspire and invigorate every single woman (or dude) out there to put themselves first, value their worth and not rush into an okay relationship instead of waiting for a spectacular one. It’s not any of these things… but it’s something.
It’s this deep-rooted, incredibly painful, slightly manic and utterly obsessive fear that’s in the pit of my stomach and within every racing heartbeat. It’s what has been keeping me feeling a little less like myself and a little more depressed lately. It’s been the language I’ve been using and the words I’m selecting. It’s been the tone of my voice and the hushed cries at night that embarrass me more than enlighten me. It’s what I’ve been Googling and what I’ve been G-chatting about with my closest friends, who for some odd reason, still love me despite all of my messiness and need for reassurance on the same damn topic.
Will I be alone forever? Continue reading
When I can’t fall asleep or post-savasana in yoga class when my mind is supposed to be clear, I start to wrestle with negative thoughts. Most of the time I can ward them off, but there’s one that plagues me more than any other (possibly because it’s a big fear of mine):
Why the hell am I still single?
I could list all of the things that are great about me and what I could bring to a relationship, but while those things are true, it’s also true that I’m pretty damn picky. And that I like the little life and routine I’ve built for myself. And that I keep dating in the same way (online, at the bars) and expecting different results. And well, I don’t date as much as I know I should be (isn’t once a week enough?!). Continue reading
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
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
I’m so excited to talk about my experience landing an agent with this little blog tonight on Whiskey, Wine and Writing. I’ll be answering questions and talking about the behind-the-scenes experience of writing this blog for 4+ years – and the process of turning it into a book.
If you’d like to tune-in and learn more, check out this link at 6 p.m. EST to watch the live hangout via YouTube. And if you’re interested in writing and book publishing, make sure to continue to follow the amazing hosts, Natasha Raulerson and one of my dearest friends, Nikki Roberti Miller as they give you an insider’s look (and helpful tips!) about the industry.
Looking forward to chatting with all of you! As always, thanks for helping my dreams come true by supporting my writing, my journey to self-love (and romantic love!). I sincerely couldn’t have done it without you.