And My Dating Journey Begins

Let’s face it – being single sucks. No matter how many times I desperately try to convince myself that I need to find happiness alone BEFORE attracting Mr. Dream Guy into my already sufficiently joyful life, I unfailingly and repeatedly arrive at this same sad conclusion. As a fresh divorcée, I have the unfortunate naiveté to carelessly believe that I will find my perfect guy pretty much immediately after my divorce. All too quickly I realize it ain’t so easy to find him, especially with the newly developed, post-marriage-failure, persistent conviction that THIS time, I HAVE to get it right. So per my fellow solo female friend’s recommendation, I start reading Arielle Ford’s “The Soulmate Secret” – supposedly the go-to bible for single, lonely women such as myself. (Arielle claims she met her soulmate for the first time at age 44, poor woman). Sure enough, I get a little euphoric from all the inspirational Buddhist wisdom it offers. “Imagine you have already met your soulmate, make your soulmate list, and trust the universe will bring him to you. FEEEEEEEL what it would feel like to be with HIM (she calls this FEELINGIZATIONS). I follow her instructions as precisely as I can, but after slightly over-indulging with even my high-quality dildo gives me a nasty yeast infection, I start craving the real thing. And some human touch. “Set the table for two, make the bed for two”, Arielle says. Sorry Arielle, I am a full-time working single mom of a four-year old – I don’t have time to set the table and make the bed for an imaginary soulmate, and frankly just the idea of doing that kind of freaks me out.

My hormones are raging. It’s actually insane. I am wet and uncontrollably horny 24/7 (yes, I wake up from wet dreams on a regular basis). They were certainly right about a woman’s sexuality peaking at age 30. I am starting to think I might be a sex addict. My spiritual cousin Aaron even tells me my sexual Chakra may be out of balance. And I am being told to control my carnal desires and “just enjoy a love affair with myself”. Seriously? That’s okay for a couple of days – past that, walking into an empty apartment starts to become pretty depressing. I feel a little sorry for myself and wonder: “Why is a young, hot (and hopefully intelligent) woman like me not being banged every day? What is wrong with this picture?”

I read plenty of articles, written by apparently world-renowned psychologists, rather harshly stating that “all those young, beautiful, smart, and successful single women, who claim to be alone because their standards are too high, are in fact alone because they are subconsciously afraid and frankly incapable of being in a relationship.” I naturally and angrily rush to deny this: “Me? Afraid and incapable of relationships? Are you kidding me? I’m, like, the most loving, affectionate, caring person I know. I have a huge heart and a burning desire to give it to someone I love and who loves me back. I’m TOTALLY ready and capable of relationships! Go fuck yourself, you stupid psychologist. You don’t know SHIT.” And then I kind of think to myself that perhaps there is a chance that he is right. Maybe I am more in love with the idea of being in a relationship, rather than actually being ready for one, and really wanting one on a subconscious level? Perhaps insufficient time has passed since my divorce and I am still craving some more exploration, fun, and freedom? Who knows. The only thing I DO know is that I’m just not buying into this new-age bullshit of learning to be happy on my own. Not only are we social beings, but a woman’s yin energy is simply not balanced without the male yang. It just feels wrong to have to give myself a hug every night, imagining it’s my future boyfriend doing the hugging. I want to feel strong, male hands on my body, and to have someone offering me constant love and support, even if I already love myself. Isn’t it only normal and natural to desire these things? I’m convinced it is. And so I continue to embark on my seemingly never-ending dating adventures in the crazy city of Los Angeles, the first few of which I will happily share with you in my next story.