When you’re considering a giant life change you spend a LOT of time thinking about your future. And while I’m of course worried about what moving to NYC may mean for my career, my friendships, and my wardrobe; I’ve also thought quite a bit about what it might mean for my love life. When you feel like you’ve dated every eligible guy in your city, it’s only natural to wonder, will this move bring me any closer to finding “The One”?
Now I know many people roll their eyes at the term “The One” and hey, I totally get it. I’ve always been of the mindset that there are at least a handful of people with whom you could have a future with, and that it was all just a matter of timing. I mean really, if there is only ONE person for each of us, why is it that everyone from high school seems to keep marrying each other?? I have a hard time believing that the universe, in its infinite wisdom, threw so many soul mates together in one class. (And if that was the case, I’m fucked because I clearly let mine get away).
However, after spending the past 10 years dating, I am starting to doubt that there really are a number of people I could be compatible with for forever. Let’s look at the numbers shall we? Let’s assume I’ve met 10 thousand guys in the past 10 years (a rough estimate, but seems about right) and yet I have only been attracted to maybe a couple hundred. And of that subset, probably only about half of them were attracted to me. Then you start throwing in compatibility factors like lifestyle, where they live, religion, relationship status, future plans, morals, priorities, and one by one, every single one of these guys has been ruled out. It leaves a girl to think that perhaps there aren’t that many people with whom she could settle down with after all. Hell, maybe there isn’t even one…
This thought process generally leads to two lines of thinking for me:
or 2. Maybe I need too lower my standards. (Choosing this option leads me to go on a slew of dates with guys I “should” like and yet never do… which generally brings me right back to option number one).
So last week, after yet another snore of a date, it was no surprise that I found myself beginning down this familiar road once again. And, then, just as I was debating which of my two unappealing choices I should resort too, I found some inspiration to hold out hope for something better. What brought about this shift? Allow me to share.
The first thing that inspired me was actually an episode of How I Met Your Mother… yes I find hope in TV sitcoms – so? In all seriousness, I love this show’s premise. The whole thing is about the dating failures of the main character (Ted) and how all of this ultimately leads to his happy ending. What single person in this world doesn’t hope that they too will be able to tell a similar story?
But I digress. The particular episode that stuck with me was the one where Ted goes on a blind date, only to discover that the woman is someone he was set up with 8 years before. They both (understandably) wonder if that means they’ve dated all the available people in NYC and thus try and see if there might be something between them. They re-live their first date, correcting one another’s “mistakes” and laugh about how judgmental they were 8 years prior. And just as I was thinking that this episode was supposed to be a lesson in being more tolerant and open-minded in dating, the plot shifted. Ted points out that while they did have much more fun this second time around, they aren’t really a fit for one another. He tells her that they each deserve to be with people who not only tolerate their quirks, but love them.
I actually found this point to be quite profound. I am always beating myself up for not trying harder to like someone; but maybe, I need to just chill. Perhaps I am not being too harsh by waiting for someone I am truly excited about. Maybe it isn’t too much to ask for someone whose quirks are not only tolerable, but endearing. If Ted can hold out for that person, so can I – right? (Just go with it).
The second thing that gave me hope was that one of my best friends in this world got engaged. Now sometimes, when I see yet another engagement picture on Facebook, I catch myself becoming bitter, sad, cynical… the list goes on. But this time I felt nothing but sheer happiness and hope. You see, a couple of years back this wonderful woman and I were roommates and I got a front row seat for all of the shitty guy situations she went through. At the time, I could never understand it. It made no sense to me how a woman who was so beautiful, funny, smart and thoughtful could have such a hard time with the opposite sex. And since I was clearly no expert on dating, I often just hugged her, told her I knew in my gut she’d meet someone one day, and joined her for pizza/Sex and The City marathons. And lo and behold I was correct. A year and a half ago she met her fiance and in a totally unexpected way…
It all started back in April of 2011 when both she and I were recovering from semi-recent break ups and were in need of some fun. In hopes of blowing off some steam, I accepted an invitation to a bar crawl from another San Diego dating blogger. Now I had never met this dude or any of his friends, but I figured what the hell. He’s a funny writer, he can’t be so bad :) And so I roped my dear roomie/partner in crime into going with me. I distinctly remember convincing her by saying, “You never know, maybe you’ll meet your future husband.” (a thought which made us both laugh considering a pub crawl in PB seemed like a pretty unlikely place to meet one’s future husband). But as luck would have it, that’s exactly what happened and now she couldn’t be happier. (You’re welcome, Kel ;)).
Looking back, there is no way we could have known that all that bullshit she went through was leading her here, but it was. Which makes me think that hopefullly, some day, I will look back on all the crap with D, Mr. Not Quite Right, Mr. Cute But Whiny and all the others, and realize it was all just a part of my journey towards My Guy. Now that’s an encouraging thought!
SO, I’ve decided to remain hopeful that there is someone out there (even if I don’t have the slightest clue who he may be). And while it looks increasingly unlikely that I am going to meet my special someone in San Diego, perhaps this move to NY will hold promise for me. Or maybe that move will bring me somewhere else that ultimately leads me to this guy – who can tell? But since I truly can’t predict the future, I might as well try and stop stressing about it. Instead I am going to work on not doubting myself in the present and try to just enjoy the ride. I know one thing for certain, when I do finally meet My Guy, I sure as heck will have a lot to look back and laugh about.