She was three years post-divorce, with a 12-year-old son and a newly adopted puppy, living in Park La Brea, where a community of single mothers had coalesced. We were all free of the burden of marriage and were considering the idea of “dating again.” None of us had really dabbled in dating apps. We took the step together and began sending profiles of potential suitors. We encouraged each other to go on dates and then shared funny post-date stories on group calls.
I was conflicted about dating. After my marriage failed, I discovered that I needed a lot of alone time to regenerate regularly. I also didn't want to bring anyone new into my son's life for fear he would think another man had become my priority. I thought it would be fun to have a lover, but nothing serious. Ideally, I would dress up once a week and go to a great restaurant or experience something fun in the city with no expectations for the future and no strings attached.
My first date was coffee with a drummer from a Midwestern band I saw regularly in college. The conversation consisted of him mentioning names incessantly and not asking any questions about me. That made me ruthless when swiping, which inevitably resulted in cheesy messages on the app that included “There are no more bees in your hive.”
My three red flags for profile photos were: no step-and-repeat photos; not photos with a celebrity; and there are no photos cheering with a drink. I had no interest in dating someone obsessed with stars or fame. Try to stay away from those in this city.
The thought of dating again made me cry to a girlfriend while driving to my next date. She reminded me of my dating plan by saying, “It's just a date.” Expecting the worst, I was surprised to meet a successful businessman and triathlete with sexy curly hair, an empty nester living in the suburbs an hour north of Los Angeles. We had bumped into each other because he was in town and I was doing a five-mile run. Adjusting the radius allowed it to appear. However, we come from worlds apart.
Him: young married, neat professional, impeccable dressing room, no watching television, a generous philanthropist, up at 5 am to exercise every day. He was a go-getter, a ball of energy, and knew virtually nothing about pop culture. He was a grown man with a retirement plan, which made him sexy.
Me: Married later, unconventional creative type, tattoos, lover of trendy colorful clothing, free spirit and, after decades of wild partying, sober.
We find it equally fascinating. We were breaking out of our boxes. It was intoxicating.
She had declared that she didn't need a man or a relationship, but this The boy was different. This magnificent man kept showing up with flowers, leaving sweet cards, washing my car, and stocking my refrigerator. He did what he said he was going to do and always took my calls. A giver, not a taker, showed me how to be a true partner in a relationship. Little by little I fell in love and our chemistry was euphoric.
But even with all that, it soon became a game of Tetris, lining up windows of time together and where work, friends, parenting and alone time fit into the puzzle.
One date turned into three years of adventures, monthly trips, new restaurants, cities, family weddings and concerts. I continued to drive to Los Angeles once or twice a week and most weekends, adding 240 miles and six hours of travel to the weekly routine. There were informal conversations about the future and even about living together. I was committed to putting my son through high school. And then my life would be my own, so my typical response was, “Life will be wildly different in three years, and then we'll figure it out.”
We became more intertwined in each other's lives as we tried to come to terms and negotiate the right amount of time together. I have a firm quality over quantity mentality, whereas he longed for a full-time partner to kiss goodnight and wake up to every morning. I continued to try to find more time to be together and he reluctantly adjusted to not living together or seeing me every day. We continued like this for a while, but the lack of focus on future plans became more evident. It was obvious to him that I had a plan. But it didn't include a man.
When my son leaves for college in two years, I plan to make a few dents in my bucket list: spontaneous travel, volunteer work, sailing the seas, visiting friends and family; to be “free” in the sense that I would have nothing to do. another important person who influences my decisions.
My boyfriend was tired of hoping that I would want to experience daily domestic bliss together, and it became clear that this situation might never materialize with me. We found ourselves at a crossroads and finally finished it.
It's easier to end a relationship when someone cheats on you or betrays you, that's been my experience. But when you're with someone healthy, loving, and emotionally present, the stakes are higher. Giving up on something because the time is not right, along with the persistent desire to maintain your original desires and needs, requires courage.
We are only a couple of months after the breakup and neither of us regret the decision. It has been sad and hard with millions of reminders of each other. However, there is a spectacular life to live out there and all kinds of ways to do it with or without a partner. I can decide, not because I need someone but because I want someone. We had to follow our instincts and be true to who we are.
We met for a final dinner to exchange items and made a future appointment to return and see where our travels have taken us. Maybe then the time is right.
The author is co-founder of the agency Good Things (Instagram: @goodstuff) and lives in Hollywood.
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