I spent last year determined to find my soul mate. I wanted someone who was brilliant, hot, charming, giving, social, active, friendly, funny, adventurous, fascinating. I wanted someone who was perfect. And ultimately, everyone always fell short. So and so wasn’t smart enough. So and so didn’t pay the bill. So and so was so very boring!
Sometimes, they were good enough, but only temporarily because there were always more hoops to pass through or zig-zagged terrain to cover in my self-defined and ever-changing obstacle course of elimination. He doesn’t make plans. I never get any presents. He watches too much TV. He doesn’t have enough friends. He’s so very boring!
I didn’t want this year to be that way–me being so focused on finding a husband, my life partner. I just want to have fun, do things I want to do, try to be easy-going about dating, not get so wrapped up on the final outcome. Is this my future husband? Is that your final answer? Final answer! No wait. I take that back.
Breathe. Calm down. Chill out. That’s my new year’s mantra. With it has come extraordinary things. I’ve realized that every guy I’ve gone out with has something unique and special to offer. Not too long ago, I wouldn’t have given many of them a chance. What a bore. What a loser. When I take a chance and give them some time to open up, I realize that it’s me who has been missing out all these years on really great people.
On Friday, I hesitated to go out with my overzealous fellow who had sent two emails for every one that I sent. He offered to pick me up and take me out to any restaurant I wanted. I considered backing out and insisting on a drink or two at a bar. I kept the plan, but opted instead to meet him at the restaurant. At first his southern drawl and unrefined nature (“Wowee, they have a lot of things on this here menu. Kewl.”) irritated the hell out of me, but I breathed and tried to keep calm in between sips of ice-cold water. He opened up about growing up in Texas, his adoption, and his life-long search for his mother.
“I was watching Oprah one day and she featured this search firm that helps adopted people find their real parents. I called, paid them the money. It was a lot of money, by the way. They told me I needed to send them my birth certificate. I faxed it to them and within an hour they called me with my mom’s information. That’s why I moved here to California to be with my mom.”
“What about your adopted parents? What did they think?”
“Oh, they’ve passed on. They adopted me when they were old.”
“And your mom? What did she say when you called?”
“She said she’d been looking for me for a long time.”
“Ron, wow. I’ve always thought I was an interesting person. But your story is fascinating. You fascinate me.”
Again, I wouldn’t have given this guy the time of day before. After all his various communications, I would have ended it. I probably wouldn’t have agreed to eventually meet up with him. And I would have missed out on his story. The unique story that only he could tell.
I’ve been wrong all this time, looking for the most amazing person. I never realized that everyone is fascinating and amazing. I never looked hard enough.
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