God Was Awake When He Made You

I think it’s time to call off the manbatical. A year commitment was a little hasty. Hell, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe because it’s cuffing season, I’m feeling a little like dating around. Seeing what’s out there. Perhaps someone out there can change my mind towards this whole relationship thing. Maybe I need a little excitement in my life. I’m learning coming home to your cat every night can get old pretty rapidly.

I will admit, though, I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past few months. While it’s easy to fall into the habit of making someone else your priority, it is so important to make yourself Number One. People come and go out of your life, but you are always stuck with yourself. No matter what. You have to learn to be your own best friend, and enjoy being alone. I think I’ve gotten my priorities straight. I’ve learned how to make time for the things I enjoy – hiking, writing, drawing, cooking, spending time with friends and family. I’ve gotten accustomed to living on my own terms, but ultimately, I want to be able to share my life with someone else. So, while I used to jump head first into every relationship, I’m finally ready to let go and let thing grow organically. Enjoy the journey, as they say.

Which brings me once again to the subject of online dating. In the spirit of weaning myself off the manbatical, I’ve reopened some online dating accounts. Immediately, I remembered why they are such a hassle – unwanted/creepy messages. There are so many sites and blogs dedicated to this subject alone. While I’m not looking to make this a blog about the messages I receive, I did get one recently that really made me scratch my head. It read:

“Wow, God was really awake when he made you.”

Now, I’m not a religious person by any means, but I did go to Catholic school for most of my life, so I have a pretty good handle on the book of Genesis and the story of creation. Was God really sleepy when he made everyone and everything else on the planet? It has always been my understanding that God was wide awake when creating the world, and that he rested (perhaps took a nap) on the seventh day. I mean, it sounded like he took every little detail into account. For the most part he did a pretty stellar job. According to this gentleman, God might have been nodding off a little while doing all this. However, he may have been experiencing a caffeine high when I was being conceived. He was really awake. Thank you, sir. While I appreciate the compliment, a date will not be granted. I’m too busy rereading the Old Testament.


Online Dating or Pen Pal Service?

One of the reasons  I am taking a break from online dating in particular is because it seems to be increasingly harder to score actual dates. It seems that a lot of viable bachelors, and perhaps also bachelorettes, are only on these sites to flirt with potential love interests, and not actually make a connection out in the real world. Once the idea of meeting up in the flesh is tossed out, the other party almost always ghosts, or gives excuse after excuse until you are forced to give up and move on. Why is this? If I was interested in a pen pal, I would write to an inmate or someone on the other side of the world.

Sure, there are those who join these sites purely for attention seeking, but I’m starting to think they may be the majority. Maybe some people are just plain shy, or married or even the dreaded catfish. When I joined the online dating community almost nine years ago, it was still taboo to meet your significant other over the interwebz. Yet, somehow, it was easier to get a date then. Part of the fun was making up a cover story to tell your friends and family how you met. Now that almost everyone is on social media, I fear that the anonymity of it all is preventing real and lasting relationships. It has occurred to me, that online dating sites might be a waste of time if your looking to go on actual dates.

Time and time again, I would chat with someone online for an extended period of time, exchange numbers, and never meet them. It frustrated me because I felt I always had to make the first move towards meeting in person. As a women, I still think it’s nice to be courted a little, and it seemed that I was doing the “asking out” 90% of the time. Regardless, I would usually get the run around. Messages were returned like, ” I’d love to meet up, but I’m really swamped this week” or just no reply at all.  And I know I’m not the only person out there who experiences this.

Most recently, I was  chatting with a  guy for a few weeks. After the first few days of constant chatting, I brought up the idea of meeting for something very non-committal, coffee. He was going out of town that weekend, so he said we would set something up soon, yet never brought it up again. He continued to text me regularly. About a week later, I mentioned it again. And again I got the run around. “My schedule’s always changing.” “I already made plans with friends for the weekend.” Clearly, this wasn’t going to amount to anything, so I decided not to waste my time.

Interestingly, this hasn’t only happened with men. When I was working in NYC a few years ago, I found that Meetup.com was an awesome resource for meeting other women. I actually met one of my closest girlfriends through Meetup, so when I found out that the app Bumble released a BFF feature, I decided to give it a try. I found that this was just as frustrating at using Bumble or any other dating site to meet men. I would chat with seemingly like-minded women, claiming an interest in making new girlfriends, only to get the same results. They were busy or would just ghost completely once the idea of meeting in person was thrown out there.

If you are lucky enough to be reading this, your input is always appreciated! Do you have luck meeting people online? Are you only there to flirt? What are some of your favorite dating sites? Do you prefer meeting people out in the real world? Restore my faith in humanity.


Accidental Love

I recently reconnected with a teacher from high school. My sophomore year religion teacher to be exact. I was shocked that she even remembered me, since I was a severely quiet student. Never caused any trouble, got good grades, but not really someone who would stand out in the crowd.

First, I ran into her at my ten year high school reunion. She asked if I was ever in her class, that I looked familiar. I said yes, told her which class, and she said she remembered me. I took this to be polite.

About six months later, I was confirming some jobs at work that were scheduled for the upcoming week. My high school is one of our clients, and I had been coordinating with their new administrative assistant in the athletics department. I kept getting emails from Joy Romano, and I never connected that this was Ms. Romano, my sophomore year religion teacher. Finally, she called me at the office and says, “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I think I know you! Did you go here (to said Catholic high school)?” Immediately, the voice on the other end clicked. She had decided to take a break from teaching and try her hand at something else in the school. We chatted a bit, confirmed the upcoming work, and agreed that email worked best for us both. (Come one, who calls people on the phone anymore! I wish my other clients would get on board!)

A few weeks later, Joy sent me an email asking if I would like to get together with her and her husband for a few drinks and pizza after work. At first, I wasn’t totally on board. Was it okay to have drinks with your former high school religion teacher? I mean, I’m an adult now. We’re all adults here! So I decided, sure, bring on the food and drinks! Let us be merry!

I was greeted at the restaurant with hugs and introductions. She knew everyone there. It was like her own personal Cheers. I was immediately at ease, ordered a gin and tonic, and started catching up on school and workplace gossip. Eventually, as it inevitably does, the conversation turned to relationships. It was then that I learned the romantically scandalous events that lead up to Joy’s marriage to her husband, Rob.

Joy had known Rob for years. He was a friend of the family, happily married with two sons. She knew his wife, and had seen his children grow up to be young men. Joy was engaged to be married. For all parties, everything was peachy keen.

But sometimes, things aren’t as they seem. Joy broke off her engagement. I don’t know the details, but it was obviously a very painful decision. She told me that it took a long time to heal, and she became okay with being single. Marriage was not in the cards for her.

Around the same time, Rob was having troubles in his own marriage. He was separated from his wife and on the road to divorce. His sons were spending Thanksgiving with their mother that year, so he was on his own. He had mentioned so in passing to Joy’s mother , who being in the holiday spirit, invited him to spend the day with her and her family. They were family friends after all. Joy arrived to Thanksgiving dinner, and was shocked to see Rob sitting in her mother’s living room, chatting with her family. She was aware of the problems he was having in his relationship, but they had never been very close, and her mother did not tell her she had invited a surprise guest.

The night went on without a hitch. Joy and Rob ended up chatting most of the evening, and made plans to keep in touch. Soon after, they began spending more and more time together. Sometimes alone, and sometimes with other friends. Throughout this time, Joy told me she did not view this as a romantic thing. To her, it was just hanging out with a friend, who happened to me male, with whom she got along well and had a lot in common. At some point, after months of these “friend dates”, a friend of Joy’s said, “You know you’re dating this guy, right?” Joy laughed it off, insisted she was not dating Rob. They were friends! Things were totally platonic. But this statement became more and more frequent from friends and family…”Kinda sounds like your a couple. We’re pretty sure you’re dating this guy.”

One night, while out to dinner with Rob, Joy says, “You know, my friends say it sounds like we’re dating. Isn’t that funny?” To which Rob replies, “Well, I feel like we are. Would it be okay with you if we were dating?” The answer was yes, it was okay. They have now been happily married for seven years.

I found this story absolutely adorable. How do you not realize you are dating someone? But perhaps, this is the smartest way to fall in love, by accident. It also gives credit to the cliché that love will happen when you least expect it. And here’s a real life example. I could tell that even years later, she was still as amazed by their love story as I was. There is hope for us yet, disenchanted, crazy, single gals.


Ranting About Millennials

Millennials. Everybody hates them. They are whinny, self absorbed, and egotistical. Unfortunately, it has just come to my attention that I am indeed, considered a millennial. Apparently, anyone born after 1980 is. The term millennial really aggravates me, now that I know I am one. Most of the hype surrounding us in negative. Personally, I think most people are whinny, self absorbed and egotistical, at any age, and in any generation. Some more in your face about it than others.

Growing up, I was not coddled. I was used to the word “no”. I played OUTSIDE, with other kids, and was not attached to TV and video games. We didn’t have a computer until I was in the sixth grade. Yes, I’m tech savvy, but I also know how to write in cursive and do old timey things like crochet. I think us older millennials get a bad reputation because of younger kids who literally grew up on technology and were given cell phone’s for their fourth birthday.

In any case, one of the arguments I often hear as to why we are such an awful generation is that we act entitled and privileged . Any maybe the rest of this post won’t make me look any better, but here goes nothing…

Why is it considered a bad thing to know what you deserve and not settle for less than that? As far as relationships go, everyone should act like a millennial in this respect. You are entitled to a loving relationship with a person who respects you. You should not settle for less than that. That is your privilege as a human being. In terms of career, I am of the same mindset(unless of course you have a family you need to support or are still mooching off your parents at 30 and never paid a bill in your life…seriously, get a job). Why should I have worked my ass off in college, only to settle for a position that does not appreciate my skills, hard work, and dedication? Why did I put myself in massive amounts of student debt, to work at a low wage? It may be true that my generation does not live and breathe for their employers like older generations, but did anyone ever stop to think that we may have a better idea of work/life balance. Personally, I am not willing to give 110% to a company that does not appreciate my value or the need for personal time, and, lets get real, the way you show your appreciation for your employees is the almighty dollar. If people feel appreciated, they are more likely to give a goof performance. So if I’m putting in the hours and the effort for an extended period of time, and I am doing a damn good job, I sure as hell am going to expect to be compensated for that, whether it be through my yearly bonus or through a raise. I am not afraid to walk away from a job or a relationship that does not add to my life in some way.

I am by no means suggesting to be irresponsible. If you have bills to pay and/or a family to support, please do not just up and leave a paying job, no matter how small the salary. But please DO try to better yourself if you find yourself in a position you hate. Use your free time to spruce up your resume and begin searching for something better. If you find yourself in an unhealthy situation, do everything you can to remove yourself from it.

I think it is extremely important to know your worth. Know what you will and will not accept. Know how you want to be viewed and treated. Just be a good person and don’t settle for less. Have some goddamn self-esteem. Life is too short, and maybe millennials know that. Or maybe it’s just me and has nothing to do with when my parents decided to reproduce.


Here’s a fancy chart I found on WhyMillenialsMatter.org


We Are Such Girls

Yesterday my friend Rory texted me to tell me that her man-friend returned from a trip to his hometown, Pittsburgh, with a gift for her: a Pittsburgh Pengiuns hockey shirt. What a sweet gesture! Kudos! Then she tells me, “It was really sweet. And he has the male version of the shirt. It’s odd he bought us matching shirts, but I’m going to let that go.” I suggested they wear them on the same day and be twins. OMG Adorbs! So Cute!  Rory thought that would be lame. She didn’t want to be the couple wearing matching clothes. Then added, “Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true.” My immediate response was, “I want to be that person!” To which she replied, “We are such girls.”

This conversation got me thinking about a few things. What kind of gestures to I appreciate in a relationship? What qualities to a look for in a man? Why is liking cheesy, gooey, mushy romantic stuff considered “girlie”? Are there men out there that actually enjoy such mush?

About 6 years ago, I went on a trip to Australia with my then boyfriend, Jon. During our layover in San Francisco, we did some sight seeing and hit up a few gift shops. It was the beginning of June, sort of chilly, and so we both wanted to buy SF sweatshirts. I really wanted to buy matching ones. At first, Jon was very against this idea, and it hurt my feelings. We were on vacation. No one here knew us. It would be fun. I was proud that he was my boyfriend and wanted people to know, “hey, look at this hot chunk of man I landed!” In my mind, all of these things called for matching sweatshirts. When he noticed my bruised ego, he reluctantly agreed that we could go ahead and pick the same one. Since I knew he was humoring me, and was only doing this to make me happy, I offered to let him choose the color. We walked away with two canary yellow San Francisco sweatshirts.

I put mine on immediately, excited to be twinning with my man. He kept his safely tucked in his backpack. He said he wasn’t cold. I let it go. We were going to be away for two weeks. He would have to get cold at some point. Wrong. When we got to Australia, he bought a different hoodie, and wore it a good chunk of the time. He never once wore his SF sweatshirt. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t harp over this for the whole trip. We had an amazing time. It was truly the trip of a lifetime, and was made even better by sharing it with someone I deeply loved. But looking back, it makes me incredibly sad that Jon didn’t want to partake in our matching couple shirts, even for a few hours. For the 3 years we were together, I don’t think he ever wore it.

Which brings me back to the kind of gestures a appreciate in a relationship. I am by no means high maintenance, but there are some things I fantasize about. Wearing matching shirts on vacation is one. I have always wanted someone to send me flowers at work or write me a love letter (no man has done this since I was in high school). Take me on a picnic. Lay outside on a clear night and stare up at the stars with me. Surprise me with something thoughtful if I’ve had a bad day (anything Hello Kitty is appreciated). Mostly, though, it’s the simple gestures I appreciate. I want someone who will hold my hand in public as well as in private.

Which brings me to the qualities I look for in a potential beau. While flowers, candy, and expensive jewelry are all well and good ( I mean, come one, what woman would say “no” to such generosity) , I’m more interested in what a guy has to offer intellectually and emotionally. I want someone who is not afraid to love, and show that love on a regular basis. Someone who can make me laugh and also thinks my lame jokes are funny. I need a man who can get down and dirty with my sometimes riotous and inappropriate family, but be sweet, caring, and present when it counts. Sure, I would like this guy to be supermodel handsome, with luscious lips and a six pack, but that would just be a bonus. Personality is the biggest turn on. That’s why you see hot women dating dude’s who look like Shrek all the time.

And all the things I just rambled on about are inherently “girlie”. There is something super feminine about romance and love. I think this is a notion that needs to change. I could be wrong, but I can’t picture a bunch of guys, sitting around watching the game, talking about how much they would love a woman to write them a love letter. Men should be proud to show how much they want real, true lasting relationships. It’s a beautiful thing people! If you know any such men, send them my way, and the way of all my single ladies. We are looking for our prince charmings who will indulge our shoe shopping habits and adore us as we are, while wearing matching t-shirts, because, well…we are such girls.


Tingly Lady Feelings

As I dance around my kitchen, cleaning and listening to country music, I start thinking about how much I fantasize about relationships with men who I will never have relationships with.

Everyone does this. Perhaps your fantasy man is George Clooney for you older ladies or Chris Hemsworth for us younger chicks (OMG Thor!). I am assuming anyone reading this has never met their fantasy man, and like me, makes up characteristics based on their movies, music, etc.

My current fantasy man is Luke Bryan. I recently went to see him in concert in Philadelphia. Living in New York City, it is hard to come by fellow country music lovers, so I went alone. I bought myself an orchestra seat ticket. I arrived, bought myself a beer, and totally fan-girled when he came on stage. I’ve seen a lot of live shows, but I have never seen a man move like this. Luke was up there, signing his songs and thrusting his hips. Gyrating and teasing the women in the crowd. I can’t lie, I was definitely getting some tingly lady feelings.

I anticipate that I will never meet this man. Even if I did, he is married with children.  But as I dance around my kitchen, scrub my stove, and yell at my cat Maisie to stop drinking the dirty bleach water, Luke and I have something special. I imagine that we take long drives down dirt roads and make out in his truck. We drink moonshine by Muckalee Creek. Every weekend we go fishing and  he cooks up some catfish and we talk and laugh for hours. He frequently serenades me, and when we go to bed at night he tells me how lucky he is to be with such an awesome woman like me.

Sometimes, single life isn’t so bad. We allow ourselves these fantasies regardless of status, but as a single woman, I don’t really have to worry about a man living up to them. Of course I would love for someone to come into my life who makes me feel the way I do when I’m fantasizing about Luke Bryan making me catfish dinners. For now, I’ll move onto to scrubbing my toilet, and thank God I don’t have to constantly tell a man to remember to put the seat down.


Tugboat Tim

This is one of my all time favorite anecdotes:

Picture it. St. New York City. 2016 (Yes, I am Sophia from the Golden Girls.)

I text my extremely Irish girlfriend Brigid the morning after St. Patrick’s Day.

Me: Hey sexypants, how was your night?

Brigid: I’m so hungover. I took home a man who worked on a tugboat.

EPIC. Who the hell works on a tugboat? Where does one find a man who works on a tugboat? I later found out his name was Tim. I insisted on only referring to this man as Tugboat Tim. I love some good alliteration. #SorryNotSorry.

The biggest mystery to me has always been how to pickup men and bring them home, no matter what their profession. It’s a skill I have never mastered and that my friend Brigid is brilliant at. I could spend all night getting myself all pretty, wear my best heels and glossiest lip gloss, go to a bar/party/what have you, and attract zero attention. Brigid could go to the same event with chips stuck in her hair, barbeque sauce stains on her shirt and wear two different shoes and end up making out with some hot dude in the corner. (She would never go anywhere looking like this, we are both very attractive and hygienic individuals.) The point is, I used to ask myself constantly, “Why don’t men approach me? What am I doing wrong?”

The answer has nothing to do with appearance and everything to do with attitude. You can be the most drop dead gorgeous chick in the room,  but if you look miserable, no one is going to want to talk to you. Thank you Captain Obvious. I have a tendency to be very introverted and withdraw into myself when around large groups of people. I have been this why since a I was child. For about 25 years of my life, I refused to initiate conversations with strangers. It was all good if you approached me first, but there was no way in hell I would even say “hello” to you unless prompted. This caused issues even when I was in a relationship, and I have had friends say that when they first met me, they thought I was a raging bitch. All because I kept quiet, looked pissy and never said a goddamned thing.

If you get to know me, you will realize I am indeed a bitch, but in the most endearing way possible. The trouble is, if I am trying to pickup a man or get a date, they don’t know me yet! There is something to be said about putting your best foot forward, entering a room with a smile instead of a scowl, and engaging people in conversation (even if you just say “hello, how’s it going?”.) I’ve found the easiest thing to do is to compliment someone. Say, “Oh! I love your shirt. It looks great on you!”. It’s easy, makes the other person feel good, and is seriously low pressure. Either you will continue talking or they will just thank you and be on their way. Best case senerio, you might end up making out in the corner with your very own Tugboat Tim.

So go out there and be pleasant! It’s kind of neat when you get the hang of it.


Cross Country Bastard

My most recent dating experience was a month long, long distance cyber fling with a guy I’ll call Mosquito. (He was largely into entomology & mosquitos were his favorite insect.)  He was about 10 years my senior, never married, no kids, successful chef, crazy cat man. There is nothing wrong with any of these things, but they ended up translating into different life stage, fear of commitment, no intention of ever reproducing, self absorbed, still crazy cat man.

I met Mosquito through an online dating app. I should have known it would be doomed from the beginning, because he lived almost 1,000 miles away in Georgia. Coincidentally, I was/am planning on moving there, just not for another year. I immediately started romanticizing our potential relationship. In my mind, we would have to take things slow because of the distance, and then once I moved to Georgia, we would be madly in love and inseparable.

For the first 3 weeks, Mosquito was extremely attentive. We decided to keep in touch after messaging each other through the dating app. A leap of faith. What harm could it do? All initiated by him. We exchanged phone numbers. He texted me everyday and called me almost as frequently. He said things like, “This is the best dating experience I’ve had in months” and “I could see myself falling in love with you.” (In retrospect, these statements seem kind of creepy. Actually, they seemed kind of creepy at the time, but I was still intrigued and flattered. Call me crazy. Most people do.)

Mostly, Mosquito entertained me and filled a void for companionship. When we first started communicating, I was attending a Guns N Roses concert. I told him I was a huge fan and would throw my panties at the stage, 80’s groupie style, if I had better seats. His reply was, “You should still do it. Rubber-band panty sling shot!” I giggled at the text, and showed it to my girlfriend who was a the concert with me, and explained how I know this joker. I openly admitted to her that I was sort of using him as an emotional place holder. We agreed that, in theory, this was totally fine. I found myself laughing at his silly texts regularly, and looking forward to our nightly phone calls.

Mosquito and I constantly talked about how hard it was to find someone. How shitty dating was, and how, as crazy as it seemed, we could both totally see our relationship growing and becoming more serious. If only we lived closer. I told him I was over long distance relationships, but found myself thinking of him often. On a whim, I decided to visit him in Georgia. I already had a scheduled vacation. If I didn’t go, I would just be spending it alone, with my cat, in my tiny New York Apartment. So, I went. I stayed with a girlfriend I have there. He was excited. I was excited. The stars were aligning.

My first night in town, he took me to a very romantic restaurant. We sat on the same side of the table. He fed me a cherry from his Old Fashioned. I was endeared by his crows feet and well manicured beard. After dinner, we went back to his place. I know what you’re thinking, but honestly, nothing happened. We sat on the couch and talked and laughed for hours. He gave me a copy  a book of J.D. Salinger short stories for my birthday, which was a few days earlier. We both decided it was better if I stayed the night. I was way too tired to drive the 45 minutes back to my friend’s apartment. He was a perfect gentleman. I had to make the first move. We kissed. We went to sleep. Very PG. I felt that he was a good guy. Mature and not trying to rush things. He was interested in more than just sex. We had a connection.

The second night, he got caught up at work and cancelled our date. I took it as an opportunity to have a girl’s night with my friend. We agreed to get together before I went to the airport the next day. I went to his apartment, we chatted, and because I have no self control, basically jumped his bones. Hey, I was going home in a few hours. Who knew when we would see each other again? He said, “Don’t worry, I have protection. We won’t have any cross country bastards.” This amused me. I said, “Cross Country Bastards. That would make an awesome band name.” It was hot, sweaty, and fantastic. All parties were satisfied. We cuddled, we traced the lines of each others bodies. It was perfect.

I left Georgia feeling hopeful. I had finally met a real man. A man who was interesting, talented, shared my sometimes bizarre sense of humor. This was going places. We would end up happily ever after. Immediately after I got home, his communications with me became less frequent. He told me how fantastic I was, and that he couldn’t wait for me to move down there. There was something between us. I forgave the sudden withdrawal because he was still saying all the right things. But it still didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel as special as it did before we met in person. My instinct was telling me something wasn’t right.

Mosquito started ignoring my texts and phone calls without explanation. I tried to rationalize this. He was busy. Apparently, not too busy to be posting pictures of the fancy cocktails he was drinking on Facebook. This pissed me off. I called him. No answer. Finally he sent me a text message saying he was not relationship material. Also, he got a job offer in Florida, and was moving. No apology. No other explanation. Sometimes, things really are too good to be true, and online romances should stay online romances. Especially if the guy lives cross country and is a bastard.


I have a coworker who is constantly nagging me abut having children. We’ll call her Alice. Her favorite thing to tell me is that she already had two children by the time she was my age, and that time is running out. That biological clock is ticking! Every time I tell Alice about a new dating prospect, she immediately goes into baby mode. Certainly, this new guy will be the father of my hypothetical children. The interaction is tiresome, especially when none of the guys I go on dates with seem to stick. My man-less-ness is a personal affront to Alice. So when I told her about the manbatical, she did not take it well.

Alice’s first reaction was laughter. “You can’t be serious! What about Baby Bing-Bing!” (Apparently this is my hypothetical offspring’s name. At least it’s gender neutral.) I told her I was indeed very serious. No men. No dating. No Bing-Bing. Then Alice made a very interesting point. She told me this manbatical idea would pass swiftly because I am like a drug addict when in comes to dating. I was a little offended at first. Who wants to be called an addict? I realized there was some truth to it, after Alice explained her analogy.

Each time I meet a new guy, I come into work excited to tell Alice all about him. After a few dates, things go sour, and I come into work agitated. I proclaim I am done with men & dating. I am officially a crazy cat lady. No man can hold me down. Relationships are too much work. This is all fact. I DO THIS EVERY TIME. So what makes this time any different?

There’s no easy answer. I can’t say for sure that I can last a whole year without male companionship. I haven’t done it since I started puberty. But that’s precisely the point. All addicts reach a rock bottom. Damn it, Alice, maybe I reached mine.

The Decision

I’ve been dating since I was fourteen. I am now twenty-eight. I’ve been through everything from puppy-love to full on committed relationships. Each dating experience has brought it’s fair share of life lessons, fond memories, and disappointments. But after fourteen years of focusing on the men in my life and finding “The One”, I’ve decided to take time off to focus on myself, as well as reflect on past relationships, to find out why being in-love has been so important to me, and hopefully learn a little about myself along the way.

Recently, I heard the term “manbatical”, which the prestigious Urban Dictionary defines as: “An extended period of time where a straight woman or a gay man purposely refrains from dating and/or having sex with men; literally, a man sabbatical. i.e -Every guy I date seems to be a loser. It’s time for me to go on manbatical.” This was a novel idea to me. I have quite literally spent half of my life in the dating world, looking for someone to complete me, be my missing puzzle piece, my better half, the peanut butter to my jelly. Yet, every guy I’ve dated, whether it was long or short term, has turned out to be a lacking. Honestly, I was starting to feel drained by the whole concept of dating. So when I heard about the manbatical, I decided there was no better time than the present. Fuck men, relationships, love, sex (although I will miss all of you dearly) and bring on a year’s worth of family, friends and most importantly, ME time.