Tag Archives: Hope

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11 Ways the Struggle is SO Real for Single Women

single-women-strugglesIt’s been a while since I’ve been in one of those relationship things. You know, that thing where you have a guy who adores you, who you hang out with all the time, and with whom you have consistent (good) sex? I wouldn’t say it’s changed me for the worse (in fact, I’ve learned a lot about myself, what I want and what I definitely don’t), but being a single gal in NYC for the past three years has made me develop a few slightly irrational fears. Or okay, a lot of them.

But I know I’m not the only one who has nightmares about being attacked in my sleep by the nonexistent cat I don’t own or that my boobs will sag to my knees before I ever have a chance for someone to truly appreciate them. Right?

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Never Say ‘Hi’ & 4 Other Things I Learned From an Online Dating Expert

I’ve been online dating basically since I realized it was an option. For an article for the school newspaper my sophomore year in college, I tried to sign up for eHarmony, but I wasn’t old enough (ya gotta be 21), and so it called me “unmatchable.” After crying to my mom (and um, reading the fine print), I held off on signing up again until I moved to New York.

When I arrived in the city, I signed up for Plenty of Fish, and though I did have a little luck (met a millionaire for the first time!), I was still a little too young for the market; it was easier for me to hit up a bar in midtown to meet a dude over a romantic Bud Light than to fiddle with all those search filters. I ended up meeting my ex when I fell down in front of him on a bus (go figure), and after that relationship ended, I was determined to get over him stat, so I signed up for everything.

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I’ve Been Thinking About London Lately…

I’ve been thinking about London lately.

10641206_10101298736723288_9213425912969176741_nAbout how easy it was to get around the city, even with it’s hushed voices and last-calls at 1 a.m., instead of 4. I’ve been thinking about how the men were such gentleman, wishing me a good day and commenting on how ‘quite lovely, quite everything, quite was’ in their darling accents that stupidly remind me of Hugh Grant. I’ve been thinking about how even though I tried to have an afternoon delight in Kensington at lunchtime with a tall, handsome character I met in Shoreditch the night before – he refrained. I’ve been considering the echoes in my head from all the women who complained – over their cigarettes and their pimms – that the men are far too serious, that they want relationships too soon, that they just bore of them ‘quite quickly, I’m afraid.’ I’ve been thinking that maybe, a British man might be what I’ve been looking for, after all.

I’ve been thinking about Paris lately.

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So, Yeah, I Did Sleep With My Ex For Two Years…

Mr. Possibility and I broke up in one of those super-dramatic ways that you’d expect to see in cheesy romantic comedies that we all love to hate. Short summary: He couldn’t give me what I wanted emotionally, and even though I probably loved him more than any of my past boyfriends combined, I knew that settling for a half-hearted love would never be enough for me in the long run.

So after handing him his key back at a sushi restaurant while ‘If You Don’t Know Me By Now’ played in the background, I stepped out into the rain, hailed a cab uptown and cried my eyes out. I wish I was kidding.

A week later, he was whispering he loved me in my ear while going at it from behind so hard I orgasmed twice.

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Dear Mom & Dad, Thanks For Setting The Marriage Bar Way Too High

251185_213333362033348_3731842_nLike clockwork every single night, I get a text message from my dad. It’s usually a mix of “I love you” or “I miss you” coupled with a few sentences about being proud of me (awww). But a few weeks ago, his message read:

“Your mom had a busy day today, and she fell asleep on the couch. She’s so beautiful, Linds. She’s been so good to me. I’m a lucky man. You’ll find your lucky man one day, too. Goodnight, daughter.”

Now, before you get misty-eyed (it’s OK, I did, too), know this: my parents’ relationship and their marriage is not typical. It’s one of those stories that people write about—the kind of love that could be made into a movie (after being a best-selling Nicholas Sparks book). Theirs is a marriage that’s more of a goal rather than a standard.

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