Tag Archives: breakup

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The Wingman Who Wants to Want

Regardless if we claim (or admit) to be interested by the company of a predetermined Mr. Wonderful- somewhere, deep down, in even the most cynical, sarcastic, and bitter of hearts -lives a tiny inkling of desire for true love to prove it exists. That after the darkest of nights, there is always the hope for a dawn that (or who) will lighten up our hearts and free us from the rips and tears that haunted us since the last man who dwelt there. Even in our most independent, most sassy, and most vibrant pair of single shoes – it is against all tricks and trials of nature to not become somewhat intrigued when we notice a simple glance or curling lip from a new face in the distance.

Perhaps on the way to self-love, we learn that the appetite for passion, for partnership, isn’t really one that can be fulfilled by being single.

For a while, I became convinced that if I was going to fall in love with myself, I needed to stop being in love with the idea of love. That I needed to quench any thirst, any hope, any inclination of possibility, and focus entirely on myself. This meant dreams of happily ever after, notions of romance I eagerly wanted to experience, and seemingly meaningful moments with handsome strangers needed to fall to the wayside, and in return, I had to propel myself to the forefront.

But as life often does, a chance encounter, a meeting with someone who could spark something new in you, makes you think of the whole process in a different way. For me, this person wasn’t in a romantic sense or really even a career pursuit, but rather – just someone who has a similar story to mine.

Meet The Professional Wingman, or as I will call him, Mr. Hitch.

A few years ago, Mr. Hitch discovered his girlfriend was cheating on him. This revelation and break-up made him decide to take  a step back and start focusing his attention on becoming a better person – not for a woman, or for anyone else, but for himself. To hold himself accountable and to actually stick to his guns, he created a blog that chronicled his life and what he was learning. After a short amount of time, he started receiving comments and traffic, and before long, people were asking him for advice about relationships, love, and how to make their overall quality of life and self better. And so, he came up with the idea to help others by being a dating coach, or a wingman, who helps them attract the type of people they want to meet. From there, it’s been history and he recently moved to New York to expand his clientele.

I was introduced to Mr. Hitch from one of my freelance columnist positions, and after the interview, I knew I had to meet him in person. I mean, minus being a “wingwoman” (not so sure I’d be good at that) -I started this blog for the same reason: to really fall in love with myself and not base that admiration on any outside person. And so, once I proclaimed I was the female version of him, he gladly agreed to meet up for a drink. I invited one of my great gal friends, C, to come along too.

We started out the evening at a sportsbar chatting and within an hour, he deemed me someone who probably wasn’t in need of his wingman services. That really, I was a woman who knew what she was doing – so well, in fact, he casually joked about me becoming a member of his soon-to-be team. At least I think he was joking.

Nevertheless, as we discussed our backgrounds, horrendous (and amazing) dating stories, and our desire to make a difference in the lives of singles everywhere – I realized something profound in what he was doing. Just because he was determined to grow his own confidence and stop obsessing about relationships, he didn’t lose sight of the beauty of love. In fact, his job is now to encourage others to be more secure in the dating scene so they ultimately will encounter someone who is not just what they want, but what they deserve. Like me, he has an absolutely “no settling” policy, and I dig it.

Not being obsessed with love doesn’t mean I have to not have any desires for a partner. The thirst for love is natural, is human, is healthy.  It is only when it becomes the number one priority of our lives and when we condemn ourselves because we don’t have that tall drink of water, that it becomes an issue.

Really, it is a difference between wanting and needing, as Mr. Hitch taught me.

Being the true romantic I am at heart, I had to ask him if his winging ended up winning him a lady. And as the happy ending goes, of course it did. She, like him, aids others in the never-ending search for love – but instead of joining dudes and chicks at bars, she helps them weave through the online dating jungle. Both experts at the game, they somehow found their match (pun intended) and when he spoke of her, his face lit up with an admiration that no one could ever deny. As a follow-up question towards the end of the evening on the way to the train, I asked him, “What’s something that you love about her, that’s out of the ordinary?” With a quick grin and his cool, classy swagger, he replied, “She doesn’t really need me, but she wants me. If I were to leave or something was to happen, she’d be fine. But she chooses to stay with me and depend on me, just a little.” Another guy who values independence – let’s just say the North is miles ahead of the South on priding women for more than their ovaries and their signature meatloaf.

Maybe being single, even vibrantly satisfied flying solo, will never rid of the anticipation of a love to come, but having that confidence will attract the right kind of partner. The one who is worth giving up some part of our freedom that we so enjoy. When instead of thinking we must have a man to call our own, save the dates in the mail, and someone to tuck our cold toes under at night, we realize that those are things we want, but not necessairly need, is where we find our peace.

And though at times, I may feel like I shouldn’t still want those things or want to be held or want to walk hand-in-hand in the park or sit side-by-side at Dunkin’ Donuts on a blistering Saturday morning – I know that it’s okay to have those desires. It doesn’t make me weak or dependent on someone else, but rather, admitting I do still have romantic dreams gives me strength to own how they affect me. To realize that though I don’t have to insist, to myself, to him, or to others that I must be in a relationship to be happy, I can say proudly, that one day, there will be a man who brings me tremendous joy. I won’t need him to need me, but I’ll want him to want me, and love him to love me.

And he, like Mr. Hitch, will know that I don’t really need him, but I do want him in my life. That I do choose him to be lucky enough to stand by my side. What’s more…he’ll want me to feel that way, and he’ll love it.

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And The Beat Goes On

I’ve always felt a sincere connection to my heart. Maybe it comes with love addiction or I pay way too much attention to subtle changes – but when I feel something, I feel it to my core. Surely, if there is anything at the center of me, it’s my heart.

And in that heart, the ever-beating, ever-growing heart… lives a lot of love.

I’m a fan of Eat, Pray, Love (more so the book than the movie), and in it, Elizabeth Gilbert says everyone gets a word. This word can change at certain points in our lives or in different places, but this word, at whatever point you’re at in your life, defines what’s important and represents who you are.

Two separate friends, A and R, who know me extremely well told me that my word is “love.” R went as far as to say: “You love your parents. You love your friends. You love your city. You want to feel love, give love, understand love. You love yourself – that’s why you do everything you set out to do, accomplish all of the things you want to accomplish – because you love your dreams. And that love means everything to you. It’s not just romantic. It’s meaningful and it’s yours.”

I’ll admit I’m in love with the idea of love, but I will also attest to the fact that I see love all around me. Romantically or not, when I care about something, someone, some place, some activity, some ritual – I don’t just like it, I fall in love with it. I embrace it face-on, relentlessly, and with the velocity of a wildfire.

And sometimes, that heart opens up to someone who may seem promising. It allows itself to be vulnerable and real, beautifully messy, and extraordinarily human. And at times, that heart gets some cracks in it. Some breaks, rips, and tears from love that was, love that never came to be, and love that changed me – for better or for worse. Those imprints aren’t something that I can prevent or transform, nor would I really want to.

This heart, which will forever find love in all of the places around it, wears those scars with courage. And it also realizes that while Neosporin can’t be applied to the actual heart, when it hurts – some much-needed time and self-support can erase those bruises that once broke it down.

Too many women (and men for the matter) call their hearts “damaged” and declare they will never be able to love again –because it just hurts too much. That whoever it was who took their once-full heart and then pounded it into the pavement, somehow shattered any chance or desire they had for love again.

I beg to differ.

The heart is meant to feel love and it’s also meant to feel pain. When you start feeling those butterflies or the lovely beat of anticipation in a new relationship – you literally can feel your heart inside your chest. And when you’re broken down, let down, and keeping yourself down –that inevitable sting will find its way to you, too.

But the majestic truth about the heart – is that it knows all of this. And more importantly, regardless if it’s felt that way before or been in the same predicament at a time previous, it realizes that this impairment is only temporary.

In time, especially when you allow the heart to open again. When you give it permission to go out on another limb and push your way through the fear and the wounds. When you rip off the band-aid to reveal the once ugly and painful cut that you covered up (for dread that it may get worse), has now disappeared…and maybe only a slight reminder remains.

And learning to love yourself, even with those little and large scars that remind us of the love we shared and the ones we’ve cared for will always be part of us, but…we’re still surviving. Our hearts are pounding and filling us with the breath it takes to keep moving. Our blood is still pumping, warming us and ensuring that we can once again feel it boil with passion again. It goes where you go, it stays alive and vibrant – regardless of the trials fate insists we go through.

When I’m nervous or when I’m afraid, or when that this-could-be-love knot is growing in the depths of my heart – I put my hand over my chest and I feel the beat. I tell myself to go ahead and jump, relax and believe I can do anything. That no matter if I’m single or if I’m married, employed or broke, hundreds of miles away from my best friends or sitting right next to them – my heart, my core, my center – stays in me. It sustains me, gives me hope, and triggers my next move, next chapter, next stage. All I have to do is listen and feel and trust. And even if my heart is grieving or having a hard time believing, I know it’s still beating.

And that no matter who or what comes and goes, that love will remain inside of me. And regardless if it is faint or fierce, the beat will always go on.

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Clarity in the Breakdown

There is always that moment when you go on a date with someone where you have that feeling in the pit of your stomach that something could come of him. There is something in the way he talks, the way he smiles, the way he presents himself, or the way you feel when you’re around him that makes you think he’s worth a chance.

And when you go out on that limb, throw some of your caution to the wind, and open up your heart – it’s really scary. Once you enter into a relationship, thus putting more of your heart on a line, you never think in the back of your head “this is going to fail” or “we’re not meant to be” or “it’s not going to work out”. No one enters into a relationship thinking it’ll one day end or there would be no point in falling in love in the first place.

Even so, when a relationship does wither and the once vivid love and admiration fades – I’m not sure there comes a point when you think “I really wish he’d meet someone else and think she’s the best thing ever!” If you do, then you’re a much stronger person than I am.

While I’m not to the point where I’m discussing my relationship with Mr. Idea, Wednesday was a huge turning point in my feelings towards him and in this journey. It was the day I figured out he was sincerely moving on. And just like that moment when you know there could be something, there is also that moment where you realize how over it really is.

It was a completely ridiculous, completely painful, completely awful breakdown.

When I fall apart, I don’t do it beautifully. I’m not one of those girls who looks lovely when she cries – nope I look like someone ran over my puppy and then over me about 20 times. My eyes and my face get red and puffy to the point where I can barely open them. I don’t let out little whimpers and hold it in, I flat-out sob. I don’t calm myself down or feel bad about freaking out, I literally let everything just come out.

I was not having such a great day at work and was being easily distracted by my cell phone, by Tumblr, by this blog, by Googling recipes, and anything else right in front of me. I also was getting very impatient waiting to hear from Mr. Unavailable who after experiencing a rough couple of days wasn’t in the best of moods. Being friends with a straight man without the romantic foundation is a new concept for me, and if you throw in the occasional benefit, it makes it a little complicated. So, as I was trying to write an article for our December issue, looking at my not-lighting-up cell phone, and generally geting annoyed, I decided to check Facebook.

And not only did I decide to play on Facebook, but I decided to go under “Privacy Settings” and unblock Mr. Idea. Now, we didn’t end on such bad terms that I have to block him because I dislike him, but that I knew I’d stalk him if I didn’t block myself from seeing his profile – it was more for my protection than anything else. But for some brilliant idea, after I was already upset, I thought looking at Mr. Idea’s profile would be a fantastic choice.

Wrong.

So I looked and I discovered he was in fact seeing someone else. My heart froze, my cheeks flushed, and I could feel the rush of tears heading towards my eyes, and with an hour left of work, I had to run to the bathroom and calm myself down. But not only did I “try” to breathe, I called him two times and texted him, telling him we really needed to talk. I then called my mom, who attempted to talk sense into me while hiding her contempt for Mr. Idea (she’s not his biggest fan). Yet, my heart still feeling like it was mid-run, I decided to text my closest friends, who promptly replied with the words the best of friends always say: “You deserve better!” “What do you need?” “Screw him!” “You’re better off, you know it!”

But to no avail, I was still freaking out. I distracted myself by throwing everything into an article and leaving right when the clock struck 6 p.m. to head to the gym. I tucked away my phone during my run and tried to focus on something, anything, else, but the lump in my throat just kept growing. By 9:30 p.m. when he called and calmly explained the situation, I was a total wreck. I hadn’t cried on the phone with him in a very long time, but I did this time. And after we got off the phone and I sullied another dozen tissues – I told myself to breathe (through my mouth because my nose was useless by this point), and to think.

When I broke up with Mr. Idea, I did it for a reason. There were differences I knew we’d never be able to compromise and that he wasn’t the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I knew that while he’s a wonderful person and I’m great too, together, we just didn’t create the type of relationship that goes the distance. I knew I had fallen so madly in love with the idea of him that I lost sight of who he really is – and that’s no way to build an everlasting love.

So what was I so upset about?

I have moved on and part of the inspiration for this blog comes from the destruction our relationship did to me. I’ve dated other men. I’ve kissed other men. I’ve flirted and flaunted with other men. I’ve felt those butterflies. And he’s “hanging out with, but not exclusively” with some girl I don’t know, and I’m upset? Isn’t that a double standard? I don’t want him, but I don’t want anyone else to have him – how is that fair?

It’s really not, but it happens. And it’s natural and I think it’s healthy. It also shows what impression he’s left on me and how much love we shared. In the midst of my breakdown, I found some clarity: we choose our happiness and our sadness.

Sometimes it’s going to hurt and sometimes it’s not going to be easy. The journey to self-love is not supposed to be without a few bumps in the road. Even though we broke up quite some time ago, I hadn’t thought about the fact that eventually, he’d find someone else. And if he falls in love with someone new, and Mr. Unavailable is in fact unavailable, that leaves me…alone.

And that fear, that notion, that worry, in the pit of my heart, is why this blog was created. Because it’s terrifying to stand out in the middle of the street, the center of the crowd, or just in the privacy of your own apartment…and be a single person. With him moving on, there is no safety net, no cushion, no back-up plan. Even though I was single the day before and the day after – with that realization, I knew I was 100 percent on my own.

The next morning, I woke up without feeling better and with swollen eyes. A part of me hurt and a bigger part of me was scared, but before I went to shower, I turned on the light and I looked at myself. I saw the imperfections and the dark circles. I saw the tiredness and the sadness behind my stare. And I said out loud, “Today, you choose to be happy. You choose to move on and to let go. Today, you choose yourself.”

And so, the rest of the day, when I felt the urge to look again (stupid 48-hour re-blocking rule, FB!), or to cry or to be upset – I told myself to be cheerful. To choose to let go and forgive and forget. To remind myself why I’m writing this blog and what it means to me. To remind myself why we broke up and why I knew someone better is out there for me. To remind myself that in time, all things pass, and that I’m making great strides and changes in my life and my perceptions. To remind myself that before this news, I was doing just fine single.

Sometimes, it takes a breakdown that knocks you to the ground, to realize you can truly stand. And if you choose to, put a smile on your pretty face, and keep walking.

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Lesson from Mr. Unavailable

Since I moved to the city, I haven’t exactly had the best luck in dating. Hence, part of why I’m writing this blog. I had this unrealistic notion that once I moved to my dream location, my dream guy would show up too.

Maybe a little idealistic of me? Yeah –I’ll admit that (it is after all, what recovery is about). My mother went as far to tell me I’d meet Prince Charming at JFK on March 14, when my plane landed in my new home.

Nice in theory –but the reality couldn’t have been further from the truth. However, the men I have met while I’ve been here the last six months have had a common theme.

They’ve all been completely unavailable.

Either literally –because they’ve had girlfriends or wives, or emotionally -because they just got out of a serious relationship or because they’re just not looking for a special someone at this time.

None of these guys have been particularly rude or nasty –they have all, in fact, been very kind and openly honest. They have poured out their hearts and their souls or spoken of their leading ladies in the highest of terms.

It’s been quite unfortunate that they have told me about their girlfriends or about the one-who-got-away when I first meet them, or over drinks or dinner, when at the time, I’m sure they are available. While that’s sucked –I’ve appreciated the fair warning.

Recently, because I made no rules for this 12-step program, I went on a “date.” It was a very simple meeting in Bryant Park with coffee –that ended up lasting close to four hours. He’s an attractive, successful, and ambitious guy. He’s full of simple humor and his sincerity is evident. He would be a catch in anyone’s terms and of course, he’s a New York native.

The course of our “hanging out” or whatever you would call it, consisted mainly of a discussion of his ex-girlfriend. I don’t know too much about her –but he’s completely in love with her. They had a disagreement which led to the end of their relationship, but in his eyes, she could be The One. She’s someone he could see forever with and he beats himself up over letting her go.

We talked a few hours about what grand gesture he should make to win her heart back –to get this beautiful lady who stole away his life at a banquet nearly a year ago to give him another chance. He talked about her favorite flower, silly-habits that belong just to her, and every woman that walked by who resembled her –his head shot around like he was seeing an angel walk on earth. He asked me for advice, apologized profusely for talking about this when we intentionally had met to see what could be between us, and wore his emotion on his sleeve.

Even just a few weeks ago, this date or hanging out or non-definition-meeting –would have rocked my heart. It would have made me feel bad about how I look and question what I’m worth. I would have gone home choking back tears on the subway and Rite Aid would have had one less box of chocolate on their dollar aisle.

This time, though, I went home hopeful.

And yes, it’s only been a week of my personal therapy, but last night, I was inspired. Hearing him talk about this woman, seeing the sincere pain in his eyes, and the longing still resonating in his face –gave me a glimpse of true love.

It was sad, but it was amazing to know that this kind of love is possible. That a man could love someone so sincerely, so profoundly, that he would fight for her. That he would think over the course of a month exactly what would persuade her to give him the opportunity to prove his love. That while he seems to be a self-confident, secure, and capable adult (who I would think is pretty good at this self-love thing) –was willing to let his heart be stolen away for someone who he considered more than worth the trouble.

I don’t know his ex-girlfriend and I doubt I ever will –but I’m happy for her. Instead of being jealous that someone doesn’t feel this way towards me, I think it’s incredible that they were both lucky enough to love in such a strong way. And, of course, I think it’s very sweet that he’s going to chase after her with a grand gesture (which for the record, will be quite romantic with a few of my suggestions).

I realized that his lack of interest in me had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that I wasn’t pretty enough or intriguing enough to “woo” him into falling in love with me or creating the start of a possibility –it’s just that his heart is elsewhere. His heart isn’t up for grabs and it isn’t open to…well, opening.

And mine isn’t either. It’s not open. It’s not ready for a new relationship. It’s not ready for love. It’s not ready for establishing the foundation of a new romance or even a fling. It’s not the time and I don’t want it to be. I’m Ms. Unavailable.

I’ve been asking God for the last couple of days to help me to start believe it was possible for me to let go of these negative thoughts towards love, and to believe that a power bigger than mine could help erase all of my old habits.

That date was a sign.

It was a symbol that I can believe in a power higher than myself. I can believe that in time, my heart will open again, and I will be loved in a way that’s sincere and everlasting. But now, it’s time for me to concentrate on the love I have for myself. My heart can only be open to loving me right now. It’s not capable of letting someone else in on the relationship.

Facebook would probably define the relationship I’m developing with myself as “complicated” –but I think it’s just starting to grow.  I’m trying to start to believe things can change.

I believe I can do this. And I believe I’ll be helped.