Tag Archives: Love

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A Single Soulmate?

I’ve never really liked the word soulmate.

Some may claim it’s because I haven’t met mine but I would argue that there is no such thing. A soulmate, by definition, is someone who is perfectly, identically, and spiritually aligned with your soul. Your everything because something you share, sparks fly the second you lay eyes on one another, and your interests, you values, your ideas are all in sync. If they are not matching, they at least compliment one another, and they fit the space that was never filled before.

Oh and of course, you can only have one. Soulmates don’t come in packs of 4 for a better-bang-for-your-buck deal and you can’t get a month-by-month subscription that you can cancel for a small fee. Nope, you only get one shot, one make-it-or-break-it decision, and you only have one individual who gets this special title.

And, frankly, that’s pretty limiting.

Over the weekend, I had a few friends in town – one I’ve known for over five years through the good, the bad, and all of it, and one who is the founder of a magazine that I’ve worked for since my sophomore year of college, but I had never actually met her in person until this weekend.

Both of these ladies I consider my soulmates. Along with a handful of other people, including old boyfriends and guys I dated (or made out with) for barely six weeks. And my mom. The list goes on-and-on –and I’ve always believed a person gets more than one soulmate in a lifetime.

Somehow seeing my old friend and meeting this new friend, who are both so full of beauty, integrity, wisdom, and vivid sincerity, solidified my thoughts towards soulmates (which, by the way, is taken from American writer, Richard Bach): a soulmate is the one who makes life come to life.

And the people who light up your life –they include more than a romantic interest. They include more than someone we go to bed with and more than someone we wonder how their last name will fit with our first.

You may not feel butterflies with a best friend, but you’ll feel that feeling –the incredible, incomparable notion that something is just right. That this person was meant to come into your life, meant to teach you something, and meant to be part of your happiness.

C and I were sitting across the table at this lovely restaurant, sipping champagne and wine, and catching up on years’ worth of stories and memories –and something just clicked. Deep inside of me, I felt like the stars had aligned, and this woman was sent to me to guide me, mentor me, and advise me. And of course, for me to listen to as well. Even though we had never had cocktails, as we were then, we had shared so many delicate and private details about our lives and struggles –and more often than not, we both knew exactly what to say to one another to ease the pain.

And then, there was my friend, R, who is a few years younger than me, but ten times stronger. We walked, arm-in-arm, with a few beers lagging behind us, as the chilly city fall air blowing against us, and something else clicked. I had been talking, analyzing, dreaming, doodling, and writing about living in Manhattan ever since I’ve known this girl. She gave me a sweatshirt and mints that said “New York” on them when I graduated from high school, created countless mixed CDs about city-living, made me posters, and given me encouragement when nothing else seemed to be a fix. And here she was, walking with me on our way to Columbus Circle to catch the train that would take her to my NYC apartment. It’s like again, the universe decided to lend a hand and put some pieces together.

I couldn’t imagine my life without either of these women. And they do make my life come alive. Just like my mother does. Just like my puppy Suzie, for that matter.

So what’s this talk about a soulmate by happily-ever-after definition? Why are we so hung up on finding that one person, when we can have several? Surrender those thoughts of a singular soulmate – and let those lovely ladies you adore so much to light up your life.

(To be overly cliché, isn’t it Carrie from Sex & the City (yes, I love this show, total confession that I will never try to hide) –who says “our girlfriends are our soulmates and guys are just who we have fun with.”)

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DTL?

This past week my friend and co-worker E, introduced our staff to a texting-drinking game. The rules are simple: find someone in your phone (preferably of the opposite sex) who you think would text you back the quickest when you say “DTF?” For those of you who don’t know what means (like I didn’t), it means “Down to F***?” Now, being the kind of gal who doesn’t use that word, I changed my question to “Hookup?”

Now, you don’t actually go and plan out a booty-call with someone, you just intrigue them. The person who receives a reply text message back first, wins and the last to receive a text buys them a drink. You must know that at the point in the night when this game began, I was more than a few glasses of wine in, so it sounded like a really good idea at the time.

So of course, I found some former flames and an ex-boyfriend and texted them. And surprisingly, I was the first one to receive a text back. The first one was “What?” and then from a different guy, “Yeah, you in NC?”

How easy was that? (Pun intended)

It completely shocked me how simple it was to grab the attention of a guy I haven’t spoken to in months by offering my body up on a shiny silver texting-screen platter. The response was instant (less than 2 minutes) and there was no question of why/where/how -just: “Here is Lindsay who just offered to have sex with me, so I’ll just do it.”

What if falling in love was that easy? Or finding your next boyfriend?

There are several different variations of the “DTF?” game that I doubt anyone would get the same response from. What if we tried, “DTSLTR?” meaning “Down to start a long-term relationship?” or “DTTM2D?” meaning “Down to take me to dinner?” or “DTCMB?” meaning “Down to call me beautiful?”

Or what about “DTL?” simply asking, “Down to love?”

Giving yourself sexually or getting your rocks off or getting the attention of an old-something (or even new-something) is so easy to do. But getting someone to notice you to fall in love with you – not an easy task. And actually, I think an impossible one.

Love isn’t instant. It’s not something you ask for it to happen and it does. You don’t plea with someone or with your higher power for months and then finally, you get what you were seeking. It’s not submitting a request and receiving an email verifying your request was accepted and put into place.

In a very ridiculous way (can’t I just have fun and not rationalize everything?) -this drinking game showed me that while you should ask for what you want, sometimes you just have to realize somethings are out of your control. And surrendering my hold on them would be in my best interest.

After all, I can’t pull up Mr. Right’s phone number and say “D2MF?” Down to meet finally?

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Releasing Regret

I’ve been very blessed in many ways –and often, I take all of my good karma for granted. I can complain easier than I can breathe and I can find reasons to be unhappy much easier than I can find reasons to be thankful. All self-loathing aside, I have been lucky in my life that I can happily and easily say I have no regrets.

Maybe that sounds like I’m trying to brag that “I’ve done everything right in my life and have made all the best choices” –but that’s far from the truth. Sure, I’ve made many mistakes, said things that I probably shouldn’t have said, broken hearts that I could have prevented breaking, and manipulated people or opportunities more than what’s acceptable.

I’m not perfect (I certainly don’t claim to be), but I realize that part of life is screwing up. Even though I’m not a fan of being single (I am, however, working on it), I realize that like all good things in life – without a little work, you would never value them as much as they deserve.

Recently, Mr. Unavailable (another guy who tells me to chill out) sent me an article he thought I would find interesting about regrets. This popular blog has now been turned into a book (hint, hint, hint) and is a sounding board for people to write what they most regret in their past.

Lemondrop published an article based on this blog/book called “20 Things 20-Something Women Regret.” Of those 20 regrets, 18 of them relate to lost relationships, unrequited love, marriage, or lust.

Hmm. Of everything we’ve ever done or not done in our lives, the things we regret the most have to do with relationships. Why is that?

Why are the choices we make concerning the ones we love, the ones we make love to, the ones we want to love, but don’t, or the ones we love who don’t love us back – so damn important?

I spend more than enough time thinking about the past – and while I’m satisfied with the decisions I’ve made concerning previous loves, I find myself asking “What if I would have handled the situation differently?” or “What if I would have just accepted him for who he is?” or “Why didn’t I walk away sooner?” or “Why wasn’t I what he wanted?”

I realize concentrating on the coulda or the woulda or the shoulda is not healthy, but I believe its part of human nature (as validated through this blog).

But instead of regret –why can’t we look at the end of a relationship as the opportunity to find all of the wonderful things to come? Being stuck in a relationship that doesn’t work only prolongs the process of eventually finding the right person and doesn’t do anything for your self-confidence.

Instead of regret –why don’t we trust in a presence higher than ourselves who controls the fate of what’s meant for us? No amount of wishing or hoping will change that a relationship ended, regardless of who ended it or why.

Instead of regret –why don’t we stop blaming ourselves or putting ourselves down because of those who walked away or shattered our hearts, and realize there is a reason for it? If they could live without us (and we most certainly can live without them, I promise), then they would never give us the love we need and desire.

Instead of regret –be proud and be thankful of what you’ve learned and that tomorrow, a whole new page could turn into an exciting and passionate chapter of your life (either single or taken).

They say it is better to of loved and lost than to never have loved at all. And I say it’s better to believe in tomorrow and live today, than to dwell in yesterday.

This journey is teaching me to embrace myself, today, right now, in this moment, and to stop wondering about all that could (and will) be or should have been.

So take a plunge, all of you who are living with regret, including you, Mr. Unavailable (my difficult and charming friend), and surrender all of it. Just give it away and let the floods rush through you.

You can’t stop them. Believe me, I’ve tried. You won’t regret them. Believe me, I never have.

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Baby on the B Train

Yesterday morning, I was completely hung-over on my way to work (hey, we had our Small Business Awards, I was allowed to be) and generally, not in a great mood. I didn’t get any sleep, the buckle on my red coat broke, my head hurt, and I was convinced my ass was looking a little wide in my new black sweater dress –isn’t that supposed to be a slimming color?

I always grab a paper on the way into the subway to read on my ride and as I was turning to page two, I heard the cutest laugh known to man. I looked up and saw a little girl (whom I later learned is named Olivia) bouncing in her stroller as her mother and father smiled down at her.

She looked over to me and giggled and waved, and of course, like any other woman, I waved and giggled back. I was admiring how insanely adorable she was –when suddenly, she looked at her mom and just burst into tears. And then she was screaming and attempting to get out of her stroller. The whole train was watching and her little face turned bright, bright red.

I instantly felt awful for her and felt the need to scoop her up, hold her close, and tell her that everything is going to be alright. Which is exactly what her mom did in one swift movement. Within a matter of seconds, Olivia was back to her beautiful, cooing-self, and was again baby-flirting at me.

For the rest of my train ride, Olivia and I waved and smiled and played peek-a-boo, along with other straphangers sitting near me. She watched me with her big brown eyes as she left the train, and once she was gone, it occurred to me how little we change from the time we’re babies until we’re adults.

I mean, every once in a while, don’t we all feel like bursting into tears in the middle of the subway (or anywhere, really) for no apparent reason, just because we want to?

And when we get ridiculously upset because it feels necessary at the time, don’t we want to get up from where we are, bury ourselves into someone (preferably handsome, tall, and strong) who will tell us that, “Baby, it’ll be okay. I love you.”

Isn’t that kind of why being a single gal is hard?

Say, hypothetically, I did burst into tears while riding from the Upper Upper West Side (Alright, Harlem, fine.) to Chelsea. And before I decided to let the floodgates open, I was just sittin’, smilin’, and gigglin’ at some cute stranger. What would happen?

I’d be considered crazy and someone, probably an older woman of sorts, would come and pat my back and tell me to calm down, that it’s alright, and ask me if I needed help. Someone might even throw some change at my boots.

But somehow, that kind of comfort doesn’t seem liberating. It doesn’t relieve the sadness or stop the tears –it just provides attention. What we really want is just to be held by someone we know loves us.

Part of being single is learning how to comfort yourself. It’s about learning how to stay strong, stay grounded, and have coping mechanisms that don’t involve a love interest. Sure, my friends receive ridiculous text messages randomly at all times of the day or night –but in general, I handle most of my emotions on my own.

What I want to be able to do is surrender all of those feelings: the wanting to cry, the feeling awful, feeling ugly, feeling disheartened, feeling discouraged, and feeling like my days of being a single will last forever. That I will never get my version of a darling little Olivia.

I hope my higher power can just take all of it away. Please, just take it away. Make it not as heavy on my heart and free me.

I can’t burst into tears on the middle of the B train. Just not a great idea.

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Ya Gotta Stop Pushin’

In one of my favorite movies of all time, Mean Girls, Cady (Lindsay Lohan) infamously calls her teacher, Ms. Norbury (Tina Fey) a “pusher.” We all know she was referring to how she encouraged her in math class, but of course, it was construed into some sort of drug addiction –just like any other twist in any other teen movie.

All humor aside, I believe I’m a pusher. Not in math (ha –one class in college and I was done!) and definitely not with drugs, but with a little thing called l-o-v-e.

Every man I’ve ever dated, been in a relationship with, or been friends with has told me how much I need to relax. I can hear each of their voices, both in and out of the bedroom, saying “You worry too much, Linds. Just relax.”

I’m not quite sure I know how to do that.

I push at everything I do. My career, my writing, my looks, my fitness, my place in the world –my life is about pushing forward. And I’m the same way with relationships –hence this program and blog.

So how do I push in love? Let’s just give a few examples:

Scenario: Meet a Cute Boy, Exchange Cards

Love Pusher Actions: Thoroughly find any information I can about him using Facebook, Google, LinkedIn, Twitter, blogs, etc. Search for additional pictures. Try to determine his birthday for my mom to look up (I know she’ll ask). Figure out when is exactly three days after we met so if he doesn’t contact, I can contact him. Attempt to remember something flirty/funny we talked about when we met to bring up cleverly if I have to contact him first.Nervously look at my phone until I get frustrated and make myself not look at my phone for an allotted amount of time. Same goes with Gmail.

Scenario: Met a Cute Boy, Exchange Cards, He Contacts Me

Love Pusher Actions: Start by casually responding and spacing out the amount between text messages or replies so I “appear busy”. Have casual conversation for about a day, then I get nervous and I want to set up an actual time to meet, so I drop hints. For example, “We should get a drink” or “Do you like coffee?” or “Man, I’m hungry!” or “Bored tonight, what are you up to?” and include winky faces when appropriate until he bites. If he doesn’t, I just get to the point and ask him myself.

Scenario: Met a Cute Boy, Exchange Cards, He Contacts Me, We Go Out

Love Pusher Actions: Date starts off well with witty chit-chat and I pick a drink or meal I could afford to pay for myself if he doesn’t happen to offer to pay. Conversation continues and if there’s a lapse in the banter, I feel the need to keep it going. This is when I pull out “21 Questions” or start integrating them. Yep, I bring out the journalist on a first date. I’ve ever played the “Truth or Dare” card, no lies. My mental check-list of qualities I look for in a mind needs to be completed, right?

Scenario: Getting Ready to Go Somewhere (Event, Bar, Party, Running)

Love Pusher Actions: I secretly plan out every possibility there could be for me to run into someone. That guy looked at me from across the subway car,should I get up and move seats? I’m going to this super-candle-lit bar that’s located on 33 West Broadway, that’s my favorite number, so is that a sign? I dreamt about a guy named Brian, and his name is Brian, now that’s a sign, right? I’m attending this business event tonight, is there a possibility I could meet The One? Isn’t that what the psychic said? Could this be the night? The day? The afternoon?

Ehhh.

These are probably not the most becoming qualities, but they are incredibly and sadly true. Maybe I’m a pusher because I like to be in control or because I’d rather know what’s going on and prepare myself for whatever can happen. I guess I’m not a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants lady like I always hoped I’d grow up to be.

Step 3 is about surrendering all of these actions and thoughts to a higher power for it to remove for me. And I’m guessing (if I’m inferring correctly, here)–part of surrendering is allowing whatever is supposed to happen, happen. And it’s letting go. And it’s not being a control freak. And it’s definitely not being a love pusher.

They (as in all of those ridiculously annoying people in love/married/with baby) say the best things and “The Best Thing” happens when you’re not looking for it. When you’re eyes are open but not focused, your heart is ready, but not anticipant.

So surrendering gives all of my power away and makes me have to be chased instead of chasing or planning someone else in my life. Surrenderingmeans I have no clue of what’s going to happen –but as a pusher, I don’t know either.

Instead of pushing and fighting and organizing and strategizing…I’m just supposed to go with it.

Yep. Better get to it. What’s my plan for not planning?