Tag Archives: sex

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You’re Never Going to Meet Someone

You’re never going to meet someone online.

Not when your profile looks like that — how old are those photos? No selfies. No professional pictures. Look like you’re having fun. Lots and lots of fun — you don’t want to come across too serious. Don’t give away too much in your personal description. You should be witty and quick, but not like you’ll outsmart the man. Never be intimidating. But guys online, are they worth it anyway? There has to be something wrong with them, why else would they need to resort to clicking through women on the web? What an awful love story that would be to tell your kids — Dad messaged Mom and Mom replied and then you went out for drinks in the West Village. Nah, don’t meet someone online. Meet them the old fashioned way.

You’re never going meet someone like they used to back when.

No one just runs into someone at a coffee shop, strikes up conversation and magically falls in love. You don’t just fall down in front of some guy on some bus at some airport and figure out you live close to each other. Close enough to go on a random date and randomly start a relationship. It doesn’t happen that way anymore — dating is work. It’s strategic. You don’t just see a handsome person and figure out you have something in common and go from there. You have to do everything you can to find anyone worth anything. Don’t be silly and unreasonably optimistic. You’ll be single forever if you do that.

You’re never going to meet someone if you spend a lot of time in your apartment.

You’re so young! You have so much energy! You have endless time to find the right person — so you should be going out all. the. time. That happy hour, go. That event your kind-of friend invited you to that has free drinks, make sure to RSVP. Mingle. Flirt. Strike up a conversation with anyone who seems remotely interesting. Don’t go home after working non-stop at work, instead, find a reason to stay out. To find a dude who is also prowling the town. He’s looking for you too, don’t worry. But you won’t meet him if you spend all your time at your humble abode.

You’re never going to meet someone if you keep going to bars.

What kind of people are in bars? Not the type of men that you’d want to settle down with. They’re drunks. They’re irresponsible. I mean, c’mon, they chug Bud Light for $8 a pop. Or worse, they actually like PBR. They still dress and act like they’re in college. How do they go out every single night of the week and still manage to be productive at their jobs? Why would you want to end up with someone who goes to bars all the time? Who doesn’t know it’s important to spend some time at home, relaxing. No, you should meet someone at a gallery opening. Or through a mutual friend. Maybe by joining a co-ed kickball team or going to a comedy club. Meet some sophisticated gentleman who is better than those jerks in Murray Hill. You live in New York — there are so many ways to meet guys, just not one at a bar. That’s gross.

You’re never going to meet someone if you put so much focus on your career.

I know, I know, it’s important. I know, it’s why you decided to move hundreds of miles away. And yes, you love it. Yes, it’s demanding and you love every second of the fast-pace, challenging and exciting environment. It fulfills and intrigues you, sure. But no guy wants to be with a girl who works so hard. Who cares so much about her career and where she’s heading. They want a woman who can compromise. Who will make an excellent, loving mother. You definitely can’t have both — even if you see women at your job who rock the office and the home every day — no, you can’t actually do it. If you keep pulling long hours and working from home on the weekends when you’re supposed to be off, no man will be interested in you. When will you ever have time to take care of his needs?

You’re never going to meet someone if you aren’t impressive.

You should be able to stand on your own two feet confidently, successfully, totally alone. You should have an awe-worthy resume and a rich, fulfilling life that involves travel and expertise, impressive qualifications and background stories that’ll entice anyone who will listen. Wear nice things. Have a refined taste in your wine, your culture, what you believe and what you like to do. Take those expensive classes and learn to speak more than one language. You have to stand out from all of the other women who really, really want his attention. You have to be different and you simply can’t be ditsy or someone who puts what he wants over what you’re trying to achieve.

You’re never going to meet someone if you’re so picky.

Does he really need to be tall? Or have an amazing career that pays well? Who needs a full head of hair or a steady paycheck? Who cares if you have the same upbringing or moral standards? Maybe you’re not that attracted to him and maybe he doesn’t actually stimulate you (at all) — but he really, really likes you. He’s good enough, isn’t he? You could make yourself really into him — just think of all that he could provide. Or all that he could be someday. He could be a fixer-upper project — someone that you mold into who you want. Right? You keep passing up perfectly good guys because you’re not falling in love with them. Or turned on by them. How will you ever settle down…if you never settle on someone?

You’re never going to meet someone if you don’t raise your standards.

You stayed with that guy who was wrong for you… for so long. And then you pined over him for a year after the relationship fizzled. How could you put up with that? Why would you lower what you want? You should wait for a man who treats you right. Who you’re crazy about. One that is more wonderful than you could ever imagine. You’re so special, why would you be with someone who is terribly boring and ordinary? Or doesn’t really get you going. You should be more selective about who you date — why do you give everyone a chance? Not everyone deserves a second of your valuable time. Silly girl, you deserve better.

You’re never going to meet someone if you don’t try harder.

Every time you leave your apartment — you could run into the man you’ll marry. He’s out there, after all. So you better put your best face forward and dress in a way that’ll lure him in. Always be prepared to meet your destiny and always anticipate that something could happen in an instant. Your whole life could be completely different six months from now but if you don’t open your eyes and your heart to let change in, it’ll never happen. You’re not trying hard enough. You’re not putting yourself out there. You think you are, but are you really? Are you really putting yourself out there? Are you really ready to receive love?

You’re never going to meet someone if you try so hard.

You’re doing everything you can to find the right guy: you’re going out all the time, you’re online dating, you’re loosening your preferences and you’re raising the stakes. But guys will sense that. They can smell desperation. They know that you’re putting so much out there that you’d really just go with the first man who expressed interest. You should be more mysterious. Try being aloof and disinterested. Unattached. You have to come across as confident and happily single — not a girl who is looking for someone. Nope, you’re just fine, just by yourself. Until you meet the right guy and then you’ll change everything you are to fit into his life.

You’re never, ever going to meet someone. Not like that. Not like this.

Just because you do everything right or what everyone tells you that you should do, doesn’t mean you’re going to meet the right man in the right way at the right time. But if you really do want to meet someone, the best thing you can do is whatever feels right to you.

And more importantly, by being exactly who you are.

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Feelings Know Best

My friend A has a sense of adventure that I admire as much as I fear.

She galivants around the world — by herself — hitch hiking and talking to strangers who quickly become stories in her never-ending journal of interesting conversations that seriously, no one else has. She is truly a curly-headed wonder woman who takes risks and creates a bucket list of things she actually ends up doing.

I consider her one of my strong-willed and fiercely independent companions — someone who praises me for having the balls to walk away from something wrong for me and then telling me an obscure fact about elephants a beat later. She’s not traditional but she does believe in traditions of great families, like the crazy one she comes from, and though she doesn’t care for those vulnerable pieces that make her beautifully gushy and maternal in all the right ways, I love it about her.

But she’s afraid of feelings. Actually, she says she’s not good at them.

And I’d have to agree. She has emotions — overpowering, vivid, passionate ones — that when she articulates them can sensationally take your breath away. But it’s a rarity when she lets it all out, when she makes herself tender enough to shed a layer of her sturdy walls — the ones meant to protect her and everyone she knows. Her emotions can overwhelm her in a way that she can’t process in the second the moment happens. And then the moment turns into a memory and then she has enough time to feel the feelings without avoiding them, and then that memory becomes a new fascinating, gripping tale she tells you.

The truth is, I wish I was like A. I wish I could think before I speak. I wish I was brave to tackle uncharted territory and I wish I was bad at feelings.

Because frankly, I’m almost too good at them.

Which is why Dr. Heart made it to this blog. Or why I developed faith in him before getting to honestly know him. In this case, I let the heart lead the head and the head found reasons to steer the heart away.

I hearted too soon.

As I often do, but this time, I went with my gut and the lessons I learned a little too hard from Mr. P and I got away from a negative nelly before he got the best of me. I also learned an important lesson about my own heart after prematurely naming someone a love doctor before truly getting to know his heart and seeing if it actually matched and beat along with mine.

I didn’t let feelings really develop before calling them emotions. They were, in all actuality, just thoughts. And while those are quite powerful demons when they want to be, when heart strings and brain waves work together, something wonderful happens. When they don’t, nothing really can ever work.

Those feelings, whatever they may be, they must be given time to foster.

Regardless if you’re good or bad at feelings, it you’re afraid of them or crave them, if you express them way too often or not at all — you have to have them.

And through relationships and anything else that’s tied closely to those pesky little butterflies that direct so many of our decisions, you have to feel your way to figure out which direction is best.

You have to try to fail, you have to cry to swell, you have to hope to cope, and you have to think you know, only to find out that you, well, don’t. 

I’m not sure what’s next for me and whatever mister I muster the courage to welcome into my life, my bed, my never, ever giving up soul — but if anything, I’m not worried. I can feel my way through and figure it all out with those feelings.

Just like I always have, just like A has, even if we verbalize them differently. Even if being bad or good at feelings doesn’t really mean anything — the most important thing about those annoying, constant and sometimes fascinating flutters, is that after every disappointment or struggle or relationship that never actually became such a thing after all… You still have them. You still let yourself feel them.

You let them figure it all out. After all, good or bad, they do know best.

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I Don’t Really Miss You

I don’t miss you. Not really.

I think  that I miss you because I’m terrified — petrified even — of never meeting another you. Actually, I don’t honestly want to meet someone like you– I want to meet someone better. A man who can love me without doubt, someone who knows he wants to be with me and who doesn’t make excuses why it’s not the right time or he’s not in the right place. I want someone who is gloriously happy like I am, not shamefully sad and despairingly bitter. I felt pieces of your heart because I dug them out, not because they were readily available. Those pieces were terribly tender and dark.

But I imagined them rose colored.

I prayed for them to change, to let me hold them. Just for a minute. I prayed for you to love me unconditionally as I felt for you. I wanted you to love and want me — to not be able to live without me so much that it ached. So much that you ached like me. That you swallowed goblets of tears almost every single day for the past two and a half years since the day we met. Since the day I fell for you… Stupidly. Crazily. Instantly.

That’s what I miss, I think.

Not you exactly — but the me who fell for you back then. It was a me that believed people, men could really change. It was a me that had patience beyond measure, hope against any prevailing odd. It was a me who put up with more than she should to love the boy she hoped could.

Could love her. Could be the one. Could be different.

Now, I’m harder. My shell is tougher and it takes quite the effort to break through. My guard is up, along with my expectations and what I’m willing to accept and what I’m not afraid to walk away from. In some odd twist of my personal dynamic, ever since you, I’ve hungered to be single more than I’ve desired to be with someone.

Because the next someone, whoever he is, wherever he may be– has to be the final someone. After you, my heart isn’t willing to risk again. It’s not bursting and vibrant enough to take a chance on being shattered or dissolving into a darker shade of red. It’s finished being the forgiving gal at home and it’s ready to be completely swooned.

No, I don’t miss you. Not really.

I don’t miss the longing and the pain you brought to my life — though I’m sure, it was never intentional, my dear. I don’t miss staring into eyes that never could look back with sincerity. I don’t miss their hollow depths that I searched for any void to tell my otherwise. I don’t miss the back and fourth, and the desperate feeling of being disposable and not worth fighting for.  I don’t miss feeling like you were always so far away, even when you were lying naked next to me. I don’t miss feeling like I had to always be the positive one, the woman who was always ready and there to please, not the girl who needed something in return. I don’t miss the endless curiosity for change and the sunken feeling that nothing would.

Not really, anyway.

But I do miss being able to love so freely and with such naivety. I miss the me that still believed. The me who was beautiful in all the ways that only a girl fresh to the city, fresh to reveries about a man whose possibilities were actually illusions. I miss the me who used to love you. The me who held onto silly, frivolousness hope.

And now, the only hope left is that I’m able to love someone else a little more. I don’t miss you, not really. But I miss the me before you. Really, I really do.

Got a love story? Submit your Falling in Love on Fridays blogs here. 

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Falling in Love on Fridays: The Best Decision I’ve Ever Made

This week’s Falling in Love on Fridays comes from one of my very best, dearest friends, Renee. We became friends 7 years ago while in high school and she quickly named herself (or maybe I named her?) my protege. But in the years that have passed, she’s definitely not in my shadows — she shines brightly all on her own. In fact, she’s rather radiant — both inside and out. She’s not only a talented writer, an insatiable explorer and truly a lover at heart (though she’s stubborn about it) — but she’s a courageous birth mom and incredible friend, too. She writes letters to her son Liam on her blog Letters to Little Man. Her posts almost always make me cry (that’s a lie, they always do) and the photos of her adorable tot are just… addicting. I feel lucky to call her one of my favorites and thankful she’s there to tame my SOSes (there are often a lot of them!). Her story below is about meeting and falling for her wonderful boyfriend that I’ve yet to meet, but have only heard great things about. It’s an important reminder to trust the process of love… and though you may fight it, whatever is meant to be, will surely work itself out. (Submit your own Falling in Love on Friday blog hereand read past submissions here.)

The Best Decision I’ve Ever Made
The first time he told me he loved me, I hyperventilated. That doesn’t sound romantic, but oddly enough, it ended up that way. We were only three weeks into our official, exclusive “boyfriend/girlfriend” status and it had only been one month and three days since our first date. Nobody falls that fast without suffering from the impact, and I wasn’t looking to become a casualty.

But then again, I was never “looking” for the things I ended up finding. He was a prime example of that.

The night of our first date, I almost cancelled on him. Even though I had accepted his invitation just the night before, by the morning I was already plotting excuses not to show — I don’t feel well. Something else came up. My mother made a surprise visit. He didn’t need to know that my mother only lived 20 minutes away and that I saw her every Sunday when I drove over to do my laundry.

I caved in and went anyway, though I showed up to our date fifteen minutes late. Not to be fashionable – I wasn’t that strategic when it came to dating. My only plan for the evening included being gone by 9:30 at the latest. An hour and a half and we would go our separate ways.

But I was wrong, as I almost always am when it comes to love. We were there until after 11 o’clock that night, a three hour first date. He kept offering to let me go if I had somewhere to be and I kept turning him down. It was the first time in a long time that I had said no to leaving instead of staying.

We happened quickly after that. He kept asking me on dates and I kept saying yes. He kept making promises and I kept being pleasantly surprised when he didn’t break them. We relearned a lot of things in those first few weeks. Like how nice it was to look forward to seeing someone. Like how it feels to have your heart in your stomach every time you get ready for a date. Like how to trust again.

I fell like I’d never fallen before – intensely but comfortably. We may not have been ready, but bravery took over and endorphins kicked in — we were goners before we’d even noticed, and no amount of force could have stopped the power of takeover. I lost count of how many times we told each other,

“I’m scared of how much I like you already,” because nothing that good could possibly be true. And then the “L” word dropped, like one of those nuclear bombs that leaves widespread damage years after the fact.

“I’m falling in love with you.”

Oh no. Not ready. Mind racing. Words failing. Panic building. Just…breathe. Breathe. In for five, out for five. In…and out.

Then came The Speech.

The one about what love means to me and what my last one did to me. About how I don’t take it lightly and it shouldn’t be said lightly because when you say it, you should mean it. About how he couldn’t possibly know me well enough to love me – good me, bad me, angry me, stubborn me. He hadn’t even met all of me yet.

It was one of those times where you try to talk someone out of loving you before they can do it themselves. He was the first man I’d fallen for in ages. When something like that happens, self preservation kicks in and you realize that if it’s going to end, you’d really rather it be your idea.

And yet, less than twelve hours after the speech had been spoken, it went from “I’m falling in love with you” to “I love you.” I gave him points for boldness and he gave me a look of hope and longing and meaning, as if he saw me in a way that no one else could. He was literally in a cold sweat by the time he got the words out, but he got them out. Despite all of my warnings, he said it.

But I didn’t hyperventilate that time. Instead, I said it back.

And we’ve said every day since.

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An Ode to a Loyal Reader

Once upon a time, there was a man named Larry who quickly became one of my most loyal followers.

For those of you who have commented on posts, you’re probably familiar with him. I’ve never personally met Larry but on almost every single blog I’ve published, he’s made sure to leave his opinion. And often times, he asks for advice on his dating life. You see, after going through a divorce at 59, Larry has been experiencing the world of flying solo all over again — and along the way, he’s sadly found a lot of heartache.

But what I love about him is that he keeps going, he never loses hope and he always gets back out there. He seems to have such a golden heart — still curious, ever-so thoughtful, simply wanting to find the right girl who will treasure him for him. In many ways, he’s empowering himself with self-love and figuring out the world of women in the process. Best of all, he shares his candid stories and words of wisdom with everyone who happens to stumble across a post.

So, Larry — I dedicate a pre-Valentine’s Day blog to you. And though you’ve given me some incredible (and funny) advice over the last two-and-a-half years, I hope you’ll take some of my loving words, too. You’ve always made sure to tell me and the women reading these pages that we’re worth it and that we deserve better. That we shouldn’t settle for men who are cold-hearted or don’t know how to treat us with the respect and the beauty that we truly are. My challenge (and hope) for you is that you take your own wisdom to heart. You deserve better, too. You should have a woman who is madly, crazily, stupidly in love with you – regardless if you iron your shirts or if you’re too forward or not 100 percent perfect (none of us are!). She won’t talk to you about men she’s dated or tell you about any other guys. You won’t have to wait for emails or messages or even wonder about her intentions. Instead, she’ll just want to know all about you. She’ll want to read your medical journals. She’ll want to hear about your teaching career. She’ll be proud to be your side. And just like there are some great men out there — there are some great women out there, too. Don’t ever give up faith or give up on yourself — because there is a lady — maybe in sunny LA or across the world — who can’t wait to meet someone just like you. I know so. Happy Valentine’s Day Larry, hope you love yourself as much as I love reading your comments! – Linds

Some of my favorite Larry quotes include…

“Be annoyingly happy.”

“Yes, be ever the optimist, beautiful young thing.”

“Kiss you on the forehead. What’s he doing, claiming you are his niece ? When in love, he tips your head up and plants one on the lips, holds for a few seconds at least , hopes MANY people notice.”

“Sounds like you’ve been to the Baskin-Robbins of dating way too often. But having a good time.”

“Have a life, meet people, find people you enjoy activities with. Pretend you are 10, but can drive and have money, no curfew. Find who you like to have fun with, who makes you laugh, who’s there to help you.”

“Every man and woman should want to be able to say at the end of their life, at the end of any week or day, that they were a good man, a good woman, a good person. You did your best, you made someone smile, you helped someone out. You held nothing back when it was needed.”

“EVERY woman needs to hold out for her Mr. Right. No more abusive relationships. Don’t tolerate mistreatment. It would change the entire world. Imagine if all the jerks died of old age, and no little boys to teach how to abuse women, only to model how to love and adore the special woman in their life. Want it for yourself. Want it for all your friends. We are out here, wanting a woman like you. Be where we might encounter you. Imagine.”

“You deserve to be special for someone, and will, and they will show it to you, always. It is so worth it.”

“Put some trust with Dr. Heart. There may be only matted AstroTurf painted a putrid shade of green on the other side of the fence. (You know, the grass is always greener, etc).”

“My only weakness is ironing. So far, early out of the drier is good enough. If some woman is upset about a slightly wrinkled shirt and won’t get to know me, she deserves a jerk in a pressed shirt who may mistreat her. I wouldn’t. Given all the other stuff I do for myself, and I hate ironing, at least I’m not obsessive about that.”

“Boring is uninteresting. Nice is interesting and pleasant. Fun. Nice is making a person feel wanted, that you’re interested in them. Caring.”

“You should never need to stay and wonder if the guy will change for you. Most guys like the way they are. Let evolution take jerks out of the dating pool.”

“Lindsay for Supreme Court Justice.”

“Sounds like you may love New York, but the men certainly leave a lot to be desired in the way of chivalry, personality and I’m not sure what else. But a great place to write a dating blog.”

“You’re a cool chick, Linds. Determined is the word you want. You refuse to cow to anyone or anything. No such thing as “most beautiful”; peel back the skin on the face, and its all just muscle and bone and ligaments. What you have then is heart and mind. Everyone is entitled to encouragement, and F*** those to try to discourage you. Best body ? You take care of it, bless those you share it with.”

“Put a small umbrella in your purse!”

“How does your man play with little kids ? Can he ? Does he think baby poop stinks, or doesn’t even notice ?”

“Even if Mr. P does not pan out, just be the wonderful you, and don’t worry. Be open to friendship and love, be a touch cautious, but never cynical, always optimistic. Seek a person for whom happiness is a given, that they have and they share. And be the same way.”

“Focus, learn, be better than ever. No moping.”

PS: Very last day to submit a Valentine to yourself. Click this.