Tag Archives: Single

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Love Don’t Cost a Thing

For whatever reason, since the time I was a little girl, I’ve had a knack for people giving me things for free. In fact, my mom always says “People are drawn to you and want to give you whatever you want. You’re the Queen of Free!”

Maybe that’s true, or maybe I’m just lucky? Nevertheless, growing up, I’d walk into a store with my family and some employee or owner would hand me a stuffed animal, just because. As I got older, I was freely awarded with half-off dinner for no reason, free goods, and of course, once I was legal – free drinks.

And, being a journalist – I’m constantly sent different items to review for coverage. From high-end beauty products and at-home soda making machines to office supplies and my personal favorite – attendance at some expensive, snazzy events that I wouldn’t be able to go to otherwise, one of the reasons we accept being severely underpaid is for the perks.

Recently, to celebrate my royalties, a new great friend of mine, C, and I went to a fundraiser benefit for an animal shelter. Their marketing was excellent: free booze and puppies to greet you at the door. I mean, what woman couldn’t say no to that? (Or man for the matter?)

We arrive in the meatpacking district, decked out in heels and sparkle – and to our incredible surprise, we ordered a glass of Merlot and within seconds, an adorable puppy was in our hands. Needless to say, we were both in alcohol and adorable– induced heaven.

An hour later when the puppies reached their bedtime, they cranked up the music, and introduced a dance floor for the rest of the four-hour open bar. C and I did our rounds around the club, chatted with men from all over the world – which included South Africa, Detroit, Spain, and Rochester. We danced the night away with an array of talented dudes, including someone I’d like to call Mr. Moves, who while is far from my type, was thoroughly entertaining for the evening. We snapped pictures that even landed on a local New York website and consumed just enough wine to keep us warm and giggly.

As the evening came to a close, around two in the morning, we hobbled out of the club into the cold rain – and as expected, I sniffed some great smelling food coming from a food vendor and I managed to get a group of guys to buy both C and I munchies before we caught the train home. I believe we blew them a kiss as we disappeared into the New York night.

On the way back to my apartment, where my bed was calling my name (and a lovely air mattress for C) – I found myself singing on the train, happily satisfied with the evening I had, and more than ready to have an easy night’s rest.

The next day, after C and I laughed endlessly about the fun event, recounted stories, and appropriately downed orange juice and Advil – I thought about how so much of what I love the most…is free.

Sure, I may be given tangible things, like tickets to events, products, and food – but nothing compares to shakin’ it with a good friend or being able to laugh like little girls into the night because the Merlot made you feel merry. Or the feeling when I’m walking through the city, knowing that a moment’s notice – I could be in Rockefeller Center, Times Square, Central Park, the West Village, or Soho.

And admittedly, when Mr. Possibility kisses the side of my head as we walk (not hand-in-hand) through little shops and pop-up craft fairs. Even though we desire it so much, hope that it is meant for us, and feel like it cost us everything if we lose it – J.Lo is right, love don’t cost a thing. Not just romantically-inclined love, but the love you have between girlfriends, between your family members, between your city and yourself. And though we worry about giving our love away freely – there is no other way to present it.

While receiving goodies for free always makes my day (having a package in front of my door still excites me like a child) – what makes it even more is feeling that immense love in my soul. Feeling my heart swell up with so much cheerfulness, so much thanksgiving, so much wonder – that no material thing on this Earth could compare.

Being the Queen of Free is fine by me, but I think I’d rather call myself the Queen of Love, who has the freedom to love everything around her, man or no man, Dior or no Dior – and still be absolutely happy.

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A Man of His Word

As a journalist, it’s my responsibility to get under people’s skin. This doesn’t always mean in a negative way, but to get a story or to get the best angle – sometimes you have to ask a lot of questions. Even more so, you are drawn by this idea that there is something more than what people initially reveal and it is your job to evoke those concealed emotions out of them.

And usually, I do a pretty good job at interviewing  by fiercely, yet kindly, easing out information that’s below the surface. Because of this so-called “talent” – I’ve been pretty successful in my career, but I’ve allowed this skill to throw me off course in relationships.

Why? I don’t really take a man at his word.

He may say something, but as far as I’m concerned – it goes in one ear and right out the other. Maybe even more destructive, I tend to hear what I want to hear and heed red flags until I have to pull out my white one and surrender. Somehow, even if a guy has laid it all out there for me – the good or the bad or the very ugly – I’ve questioned it. I’ve debated it. I’ve wrapped it around my head three or four times and drawn my own conclusions instead of taking what he’s promised or said at face value.

As I’ve described, I’ve met Mr. Faithful, Mr. Fling, Mr. Fire, Mr. Idea, and Mr. Unavailable over the course of my dating history. Now, I’ll admit that men (and women, too) sometimes promise things or relationships or feelings or promises they can’t fully deliver. I think at our core, we all want to do right by those who make an impression on us, romantically or not, and I highly doubt anyone goes into a committment thinking “I’ll break this one day, even though I said I wouldn’t!” If you do, I suggest you stop reading my words and seek serious help, alrighty?

Nevertheless, if I go back to these dudes, all of which have left and continue to leave distinctive impressions on my soul, and think about the words they’ve used to describe themselves or their intentions – I may have saved myself a little heartbreak if I would have listened. If a guy tells you right at the start that he isn’t over his ex-girlfriend and isn’t ready for a relationship: that’s what he means. This isn’t a line he uses to pick up the ladies or a vulnerable side he pulls out to distract you from seeing that he truly, honestly, just wants to meet a woman who will lick and heal his wounds. He doesn’t want this woman and this woman isn’t you, so why put yourself in a situation where you seek a man who is unattainable?

Or if a guy tells you he wants to have sex – or rather doesn’t say it, but only calls you at midnight when he’s had a few too many – that doesn’t mean he magically falls in love with you after an orgasm. It means he came (pun intended) to see you for a specific reason and goal. And sadly, if a guy says he worries about breaking your heart or hurting you, he does actually have a soul, but it’d be in your best interest to walk away before his premonition comes true.

I won’t say there are not exceptions to these ideas, but I’ve learned, often the hard way, that sometimes you can learn so much more about the person you’re falling for if you catch yourself and start really listening, instead of projecting. Because anyone can put on Mr. Right’s cape and ride in on a horse with a bouquet full of tulips,  if we rent the stallion from a stable, hand the dude $30, and give him a sword and a script. If you project an idea on a man, instead of seeing him for his true-blue colors, all you will see is your reflection.

Now, as I’ve said trust is one of the most important building bricks in the foundation of a great relationship, especially the one you have with yourself but also with a partner. And as far as love is concerned, if you don’t truly listen to what someone is telling you, you never can develop that security or promise that’s required for an everlasting union.

And step one to gaining trust both in myself and in the men that I date is opening my ears and closing my mouth and imagination.

It also means that when a great man with a kind heart comes along, I must be able to turn the same token around and realize that if a man says he’ll be there – I have to have enough courage to take him at that word, too. If I forever let the bruises of the yesterday cause harm to the love I’ll grow today, then there is no opportunity for prosperity tomorrow. Just because one man lied, or I decided to construe my own meaning out of his words, doesn’t mean they are all one-in-the-same.

Possibly though, even more strenuous than accepting a man who will never love you in the way imagined or learning to gradually open up your heart that’s been shattered more times than you’d like to count – is also learning to listen to yourself. To the words you put out into the world and into the ears of men whom you’d like to accept as your boyfriend on Facebook (even with the new annoying interface). Because if you accept a man at his word, in return he will accept you at yours – thus making each and every single thing you say, so vital. If something isn’t okay or isn’t fine or doesn’t feel good or makes you uneasy or feels like settling, you have to stand up and say: why, yes, I frankly do give a damn about that.

If I want to meet a man who I can trust to say what he means when he says it and be a man of good word and honesty – I have to be a woman of the same principle. Because what is the use of language if it isn’t dependable? If we couldn’t trust in what we read and  in exchanged sentiments from page-to-page in the magazines or pillow-to-pillow with our lover, would we ever get anywhere?

That is, anywhere other than subjected to below-the-fold and in the corner, or crying in the shower (where we need not worry about mascara), wondering: “why didn’t I just listen to him from the get-go?“

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The Here-And-Now

I’ve only been a self-proclaimed love addict for just-shy of two months now. But as I said at the beginning, I’ve been battling with these constant thoughts and fears of “being single forever” and “not being good enough” and “men just don’t fall in love with me” for a very long time. Basically, my entire adult (ehh…and teen?) life.

I can think back to times in college (and even post-grad in some deeply-obsessive moments) when I would literally force myself not to look at my phone for allotted amounts of time. Because somehow, if I didn’t actually glance at my cell phone for say, 10 minutes, the Mr of the Week would text me back in a more timely fashion (instead of hours later or if at all). And then once he would text, I would make sure to double the amount of time it took him to respond…so I would seem aloof and unavailable. Because men want that, right?

Even if in reality, I was nervously twitching on my couch, eating chocolate pudding, and distracting myself painting my fingernails, and analyzing any possible hidden meaning between the two lines in his latest text. And if it I so desired, forwarding the text to my dearest (and supportive) friends to see if they deciphered something I didn’t.

Now, since this recovery journey started, I haven’t exactly met someone I could actually see myself with (other than Mr. Unavailable, but we all know how that story goes) – so I haven’t tested my reaction to texting conversations. However, a few changes in my habits and perceptions have noticeably changed:

Literally Busy (Not Faking It)

If I was to meet a new Mr and I did happen to swoon over him – I’m not quite sure where I would fit him into my life. And really, those longing romantic notions that I have always had, have tapered away a bit…maybe because I haven’t had the time to nourish them. In between working 40 plus hours a week at the business magazine, managing big dream-promoter, ChickSpeak, writing this blog, running daily, and attempting to have a social life –I find myself thinking sometimes: Now, why was I so obsessed with a boyfriend?

There’s no way I could fit a serious, committed relationship into this schedule – and really, I’m getting to a point where I’m almost (dare I say it?) happy to be single! I still have days when I want to cuddle or sneak a kiss or be paid a compliment – but I really feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. And for once, I’m okay with it.

Being More at Peace

I’ve never been one to think in the here-and-the-now, probably due to what I call “hyper-ambition” – but recently, I’ve noticed a shift in my thought processes. I tend to look at things with more of a practical perspective instead of an emotional one.

For example, last week I was in fact expecting a text message from Mr. Unavailable, and even though he’s not someone I want to date, he was taking longer than usual, and a little voice inside my head pleaded: “But what if you never hear from him again, then what? That would be the most awful thing on the entire planet. What would you do?” In the past, when these pestering worries would come up, I’d play into them and sincerely freak myself out. But this time, I thought, “Well, I’d be fine. I’ll still go to work tomorrow and get to have that fun girl’s night out next week. Oh, and I have that event to look forward to.” I’m learning to throw away the negativity and the obsession and turn it into optimism and reality. And in return, I’m getting out of my head and feeling more at peace with my life and myself.

Freeing from Frustrations

Of all of the things chasing a dream by myself has taught me, the most important one has been to enjoy my own company. While I never feel alone in the city (because it keeps me company just by being so alive and inviting), there are many evenings and days that I spend alone. And honestly, some of those moments are my favorite. Exploring the town is fun with a pal, but you notice more when you’re just with yourself. And instead of wishin’ and hopin’ that my hand was being held by a man, I’ve grown to enjoy it being held by a Macy’s bag or a hot apple cider, instead.

However, not putting pressure on myself to “meet someone” or “flirt with a dude” or “go out for the sake of romantic possibility” has allowed me to just…relax. I’m not afraid to spend an evening just dancing and not have one single dude buy me a drink. I’m learning not to look at a guy in some bar in some area on some (or every) night, lusting at the thought that he could be my Mr. Right. Currently, the best nights I have are spent laughing away, cherishing my youth, and if a man happens to walk in and shake up evening –then be it.

If not, I’m still ridiculously thankful to be right here, right now, just me…and the me I’m becoming. My, oh my, what’s next?

 

 

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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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Naked, Nosy, and Never Been Happier

I’ll admit I’m a jealous person.

Obviously, since I admitted to stalking Facebook profiles for wedding, engagement, and baby pictures, I have a little bit of envy in me. I can’t even being to estimate how many times in a day I desire something I don’t have –when I see a trendy couple walking, leaning on each other in the subway, a man kissing his pregnant wife’s forehead in the rain.

Most of the time, especially now, I’m able to deal with these resentful feelings –soothe myself, close my eyes, and say a little prayer for things I hope will come.

Imagine my delight yesterday when I found myself not jealous, not envious, not sickened, not insanely mad –but happy about being single.

Tonight my company is hosting the NYC Small Business Awards and because I’m a procrastinator (not usually, but lately), I waited until yesterday to buy my cocktail dress for it. With a lovely birthday card from my friend A, I set out to Forever 21 on my lunch hour yesterday to find something stunning. I figure, it’s a great excuse to buy a new dress considering I’ll be around 500 business owners –right?

I scour the three floors of wonder that is Forever 21 and with an armful of dresses and make my way to the fitting room. As I’m struggling to figure out what my size is because my new workout regimen has made me somewhere between a small and medium –I overhear a conversation.

Its two girls in the rooms next to me laughing, chit-chatting, and they seem to be catching each other up on their lives. At this point, I’m struggling to get a belted blue dress over my head that’s in two pieces and incredibly difficult to maneuver, and sighing because I’m a tad bit bloated, and PMS is breaking me out something fierce. As I’m starting to get frustrated, I hear one of the girls say, “Oh my God! I loooooveee this dress. Do you love this dress?” to which the other replies, “Oh girl, you look so sexy. Chris is totally going to love that. He’ll rip it off of you.”

I giggle to myself and think about my friends who would say that to me (practically all of them) and I take it that Chris is this gal’s boyfriend. She laughs and then her ringtone “California Girls” by Katy Perry goes off and she says, “Oh my God! He must have read our minds, he’s calling!” I’m still weeding through my outfits as she greets Chris with “Hey baby!” and continues with her conversation.

I stop listening for a while until I hear “Baby, I thought we talked about this…*sigh*….but I said this weekend that…well, I know….but we talked about this…Chris!…will you just let me talk?…you’re being ridiculous….I told you she was going to be in town.”

Of course, because I’m being incredibly nosy, I stop trying on clothes, stand there in my panties and bra and over-the-knee boots and just listen.

“Chris, she’s in town this week only. We can hang out this weekend, can’t we?…Why do you  need to see me?…I thought we had this conversation…No! I’m not breaking my plans…No, I’m not…what was that? Say that again….Really?…You’re doing that? For me?…Okay. Aw, Chris. Let me talk to her…yeah…I love you too…I know baby…yeah, I know baby…I’m sure she won’t mind…No she won’t mind…Yes, I’m sure…I love you too. Bye baby.”

Now, I’ve decided that she gave into his pleas to see him, even though, I’m guessing, her friend is visiting from out of town.

“Hey, do you mind if I see Chris a little bit tonight? I mean, I’ll just go over to his apartment and you can stay in my apartment and check your email or watch TV or whatever. He just really needs to see me. You know how he is –just needs me. It’s like that when you’re in love.”

I couldn’t see her friend’s expression, but if it were me, I would have rolled my eyes, dropped my jaw, and called her out on giving-in even though I was visiting and was promised girl’s-only time.

“Yeah, I mean I guess that’s alright. But weren’t we going to go to the village tonight? I’ve never been there before, ya know,” her friend replied.

“God, I know. The village isn’t that great anyways. He’s just so persistent. You’ll understand one day when you meet The One.”

Now, I’m fully dressed and fully pissed at this girl for being so rude to her friend. It took every fiber in my being to not talk to the other friend and say, “It’s okay to be single! It’s empowering to be single! You’d rather be single than have a lame boyfriend who begs you to break plans with your friends because they ‘need’ you! How pathetic is that? You want to go get coffee with me in the village tonight and we’ll bitch?”

Not everyone who is in a relationship becomes obsessed with and powerless to their boyfriends. I’ve definitely been in relationships that have taken over my entire life and I know how easy it is to get wrapped up when you’re head over Jimmy Choos. I get it, I really do. But regardless –it’s never right to do that to a friend. Especially an out-of-town friend.

The best part of this story, though? I wasn’t jealous of her relationship and I wasn’t envious of any relationships the rest of the day. From the outside –on the train, streets, and cafes –all relationships look beautiful and loving. But when you get down to it –they are messy and uneven and sometimes involve pleading annoying men.

As I walked out of Forever 21, I thought: “Thank God I’m not in a relationship like that. If I was with a clingy guy I’d have to cut him lose. Already did that. Been there, done that. Wow, I’m so glad I’m single. I can do literally anything I want today, this week or this weekend. I think I’m going to buy some shoes. Or maybe that rain jacket…ohhh he was cute! Who is that? Maybe he’ll be at the Small Business Awards!”