How many of you have THE LIST? You know, that carefully crafted, painstakingly detailed overview of the necessary elements required in the dream man you don't have just yet, but hope to one day, the absence of whom is a daily reminder of the happiness that is pending (and will remain so) until he magically knocks on your proverbial door with at least 9 out of 10 boxes marked CHECK??? Don't be ashamed. For I had it too.
I made it about 4 years ago after a nasty and painful break up with my last serious boyfriend, a much younger man who when not surfing and getting stoned, spent his days in perpetual dreamland, skirting all sense of responsibility while simultaneously finding new ways to languish in mediocrity on our couch. He was nice, and generally good to me, but had one more move than a dead man. He was, in short, dead weight.
After finally wising up, and growing up, I got the hell out, pressed reset, and decided to carve out a future so big and bright, shades wouldn't cover the eclipse-size, storybook relationship I was conjuring up in my head. It's natural to come out of an experience that swings so much one way, the only reasonable response is to come out swinging completely in the other direction. Which is exactly what I did. Hence, THE LIST. Let it be said, I am aware that I over think, that I can analyze the life out of things at the best of times. But when hitting rock bottom in something as important as one's love life, well... I was about to start an all out smear campaign against anyone or anything that resembled my ex-boyfriend. My next man, I proposed, would be powerful, wealthy, alpha, in charge, older (pass the salt and pepper please), the guy who owned the room, any room with his presence and his pocketbook. Together we would over achieve, and become the quintessential power couple. This of course when not being promoted in our respective careers and buying property in many of our favorite global destinations, raising money for important causes not to mention a little family in our eco castle - one likely to adorn the cover of Dwell or Wallpaper Magazine.
What a plan, I marveled, each time I shared THE LIST with friends and family. I learned my lesson, boy. Never again will I fall for Peter Pan. And I didn't. Over the next 3 years, I dated a variety of Alpha's - successful attorneys, hedge fund heavy weights, a successful photographer who paid for his LA home in cash. They all looked good in suits, they all had big careers and they all bored me to death. Well, shit! What the hell was I supposed to do now?
About a year ago, I decided to act on a whim that took me miles off course from THE LIST - namely a sordid and hot affair with a much younger man at my office. It lasted only a few months, but it was more fun than I had had with any of THE LIST guys combined. Then along came an even younger guy - a holiday romance - that had my blood pumping, and my heart racing in ways the ones who were great on paper couldn't elicit to save their lives. Not even close. It was fun, it was sexy, it was LIVING. But in my usual form, I started over analyzing the loveliness the universe brought me in the form of these two fledgling 20-somethings. Why? Neither of these guys looked anything like THE LIST, so what the hell was I doing wasting my time having all this fun? And man were they fun...
As soon as I let myself go just a little, off I'd go with the mental check list of what they lacked, and all the subsequent ways they couldn't possibly be worth my time, for how could I build lives with guys who were just getting started in their careers and still had roommates? I couldn't get past the fact that neither of these zygotes had any of the line items from THE LIST. That fact alone messed with me, and I found myself making demands that neither were remotely capable of, demands that if they conceded, would turn them into exactly the kind of man I was convinced I wanted. They resented me for asking, and I resented them for not being able to step up to the plate.
My friends asked why it was I just couldn't enjoy them for what they were until THE LIST guy came along? To me, this felt like a colossal waste of time. Why expend energy on something that isn't destined to last longer than the dairy products in my fridge? I'd rather leave myself open for the real thing. And so for the next 8 months, I went virtually dateless, blaming the general hardships of co-mingling in the notoriously difficult dating pool of LA as the culprit for the spinster life that seemed destined to stay, not realizing THE LIST was the thing in my way, not Hollywood. What I would come to realize later is that geography may not have been the cause for my woes, but it would be the cure...
New York. New job, new city, new friends, new everything. The only remnants of my old life in Cali were my furniture, clothing, and of course THE LIST. The latter was still firmly ensconced in my belief system as the bullet point by bullet point way to a better life. Convinced I would meet THE LIST guy here - after all, this city is the holy grail for successful men from a myriad of industries, not just entertainment - my friends and I made it our almost regular mission to seek out hot spots where power players mingled, putting on cute dresses and perching ourselves just so, purposely thrusting ourselves amongst the male elite. Energized and eager to explore New York, going out on a regular basis with my girlfriends seemed the perfect remedy to not only meet THE LIST guy, but to leave the crappy memories of Hollywood players and bad boys in the dust.
And so I went on a slew of dates with a new group of alphas from all walks of life - a former professional soccer player turned high end jeweler, a wall street magnate, a partner in a Park Avenue mergers and acquisitions firm, and a famous chef with a stable of restaurants and cook books to his credit. Thing was, they all added up to one big yawn. Not to mention all this constant perching in dull places to keep the dating quotient high was more work than I had energy for. One night, while at an infamous Wall Street hangout where financial types were known to ravage burgers and women with equal aplomb, I found myself more entrenched by the tennis match on the tv, than at the table of suits in the corner. Seems this plan was quickly running it's course and still no sight of my power player. What now?
If THE LIST wasn't going to happen, perhaps I should focus my energies on my new job, making a lovely home for myself, and having fun with my friends instead of forcing the universe to find the needle in haystack when it came to my dating life. As I presented my new outlook to my friends, I was surprised to hear that they had always thought my list was ridiculous and were simply waiting for me to make that realization myself. They had hinted that perhaps I should give it up and just stay open. Which is exactly what I did. Then it happened.
I let go. Before I knew it men started coming in fast and furious. They were all fabulous and cool and smart and hot. They pursued, showed up, were attentive, often romantic, and totally and completely in to me. They all had one thing in common. They were much younger than me. But now it didn't feel wrong. It felt good. And right. I found myself going out more, and trying new things, a sense of newfound adventure that had somehow, over time, slipped away from my once very adventurous soul. Maybe it was LA that did this. Who can say for sure. But the more I thought about it, the more I became certain that it had to do with being so bogged down by a fabricated, self-induced idea of what my life SHOULD look like, I missed actually LIVING it. These younger men were reminding me of what I had been missing, just by virtue of their energy, and lack of agendas in their own lives. They didn't seem to question everything and "take life's temperature" at every moment like I did, virtually sucking the essence out of the gifts I kept missing simply because they didn't resemble what I thought my life should look like.
I started thinking about why the older guys and even men my own age I had dated bored me to tears. And why, as soon as I surrendered this love plan of mine did all these beautiful baby boys start arriving seemingly non-stop? I'm dubious that there is a definitive reason for things such as this but here's what I do know. I've never had more fun, felt more sexy (not to mention the sex itself), powerful, feminine and alive as I have in the last 2 months since I replaced THE LIST with simply following the good feelings that accompanied each lover as he showed up. And from that came the realization that not every dalliance has to lead to something long term or forever or love or commitment. These guys were present, and available, and fun, and engaging, intelligent, vibrant human beings who just wanted to spend time with me. Pure and simple, no agenda.
So that's where I am now. Juggling lots of lovely guys, enjoying each one, and not getting too focused or consumed by any of them. What's amazing is that at exactly the point that feels like it might happen, another one comes along to grab my attention. I can say with confidence I won't be marrying any of them. But I don't care. And that's a first. They feel good and so should life. Maybe I'll still end up with THE LIST guy in the end, but if I do, he'll show up when I least expect it. Because I'm not looking anymore. And I don't CARE. Man that feels good.
