The DateDoctor Diaries

So today is D-day, the day Lori Gottlieb's book, Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough is released. As a relationship therapist, coach, and dater myself- I am VERY interested in hearing others' thoughts about this. Are men (or women depending on your preference) really like old kleenex's that we readily toss away at the beginning of a flu, but then begin sorting back through the bunch for one that's not so used up?? (not that I have ever done anything like this)

Watch the video and let me know what you think...

Ok friends, I just have to tell you about Lori Gottlieb. She is the author of a controversial new book, Marry Him; The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough (which Amazon will finally send to me February 4th)  about rethinking our ideals for the "perfect marriage."

Lori posits "My advice is this: Settle! That’s right. Don’t worry about passion or intense connection. Don’t nix a guy based on his annoying habit of yelling “Bravo!” in movie theaters. Overlook his halitosis or abysmal sense of aesthetics. Because if you want to have the infrastructure in place to have a family, settling is the way to go. Based on my observations, in fact, settling will probably make you happier in the long run, since many of those who marry with great expectations become more disillusioned with each passing year. (It’s hard to maintain that level of zing when the conversation morphs into discussions about who’s changing the diapers or balancing the checkbook.)

In an email to me she said recently, "this book isn't about settling, its about finding true love by looking for what's important, and letting go of the stuff that isn't, so we can find the right Mr. Right."

I stumbled across an article about her while traveling through an airport in Ireland. This way of thinking completely stopped me dead in my tracks. Was I being too picky? Did I have an inflated self perception...I mean, yes, I am well-educated, and can clean up quite well in a pencil skirt and heels, but I am no Cindy Crawford. What if the key to finding lasting happiness and contentment, was in lowering my standards?

I have attempted to do this and have said "yes" to many guys that I would normally turn down. Yet, what I have found in doing this is the following:

a) go on a date, have a great time, laugh, go home --> b) they call for second date --> c) I go on second date -->d) they go in for the kiss --> e) i crinkle my forehead and muster with all my might any possible feeling of chemistry, connection, or romance -->  e) I go home feeling like ive just made out with my brother -->  f) guy calls saying "hey i had a great time, can't wait to touch those lips again," ---> g) I throw up in my mouth a little bit ---> h) inevitably i call the whole thing off and then feel even worse about myself for having such an over-inflated ego and too high of standards i) call carpenter to have cat ramps installed

As with all things in life, I have a hunch the answer (and Lori's) lies somewhere in between. I know that I do not require Brad Pitt-esque jaw bones to feel chemistry. In fact, I have had some pretty  heavy sparks fly between myself and men that are not traditionally good looking. However, I do feel that I have put a lot of work into myself and should not expect much less from the person I intend to create a life with. I put myself through 10 years of education...so that I could carry on a decent conversation that doesn't include what I had to eat that day and my predictions for where All My Children is going to head in the next two years. Not to mention, putting myself through grueling spin classes and intense bikram yoga sessions, so I can look good in a pair of skinny jeans. I don't think my reward should be looking at some balding dough ball, sitting on the toiIet, just because he's reading the New York Times.

I know there is hope and if nothing else I feel that Lori's book is a tale that needs to be told- especially in a current world of too many options, where- sometimes one never chooses.

Ok friends, I just have to tell you about Lori Gottlieb. She is the author of a controversial new book, Marry Him; The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough (which Amazon will finally send to me February 4th)  about rethinking our ideals for the "perfect marriage." Instead she argues that most of us women, think we are 10's and think we should not be settling until we find a 10. However, in reality, she points to the fact that most of us are really 8's or 7's, and need to be content with finding a 7 or 6, or at least this is my take from what I've read. Her POV? Lori posits "this book isn't about settling, its about finding true love by looking for what's important, and letting go of the stuff that isn't, so we can find the right Mr. Right.

I stumbled across an article about her while traveling through an airport in Ireland. This way of thinking completely stopped me dead in my tracks. Was I being too picky? Did I have an inflated self perception...I mean, yes, I am well-educated, and can clean up quite well in a pencil skirt and heels, but I am no Cindy Crawford. What if the key to finding lasting happiness and contentment, was in lowering my standards?

I have attempted to do this and have said "yes" to many guys that I would normally turn down. Yet, what I have found in doing this is the following:

a) go on a date, have a great time, laugh, go home --> b) they call for second date --> c) I go on second date -->d) they go in for the kiss --> e) i crinkle my forehead and muster with all my might any possible feeling of chemistry, connection, or romance -->  e) I go home feeling like ive just made out with my brother -->  f) guy calls saying "hey i had a great time, can't wait to touch those lips again," ---> g) I throw up in my mouth a little bit ---> h) inevitably i call the whole thing off and then feel even worse about myself for having such an over-inflated ego and too high of standards i) call carpenter to have cat ramps installed

As with all things in life, I have a hunch the answer (and Lori's) lies somewhere in between. I know that I do not require Brad Pitt-esque jaw bones to feel chemistry. In fact, I have had some pretty  heavy sparks fly between myself and men that are not traditionally good looking. However, I do feel that I have put a lot of work into myself and should not expect much less from the person I intend to create a life with. I put myself through 10 years of education...so that I could carry on a decent conversation that doesn't include what I had to eat that day and my predictions for where All My Children is going to head in the next two years. Not to mention, putting myself through grueling spin classes and intense bikram yoga sessions, so I can look good in a pair of skinny jeans. I don't think my reward should be looking at some balding dough ball, sitting on the toiIet, just because he's reading the New York Times.

I know there is hope and if nothing else I feel that Lori's book is a tale that needs to be told- especially in a current world of too many options, where- sometimes one never chooses.

Yep...I am now venturing into the scary zone of singledom- the one where you start contemplating adoption or the nunnery. Yet, there are a few things I have learned to appreciate and would like to acknowledge before I cross over into the dark side on January 26th...

1) To have lost a great love early who taught me and continues to teach me to value what is truly important in this life and to forget the rest

2) To have experienced falling and being in love with four different boys, one being my nephew Gabriel (the others were all legal)

3) To have lived in New York City, San Diego, England, and Los Angeles

4) That I was miraculously able to afford my 20’s through the unorthodox route of blackjack and babies (each being mutually exclusive, no babies were involved in any sort of gambling hi jinx ;)

5) To the girlfriends, some loved, some lost that wept with me with both tears of sadness, but mostly from uncontained and uncontrollable laughter

6) To learning that you really can’t judge a book by its cover…some people are like onions, made up of layers and layers, keeping the sweetest bits at the core

7) To learning that prince charming won’t come in the form of a cowboy

8) For becoming increasingly comfortable within my own skin

9) My education

10) The great breakup of 08’….Now a lesson that taught me, even when you think your life is over, the sun keeps on rising (it also taught me that it’s not a good idea to go to the gym drunk, no matter how many times you’ve taken a spin class before)

11) Learning that life is constantly changing and to be content in the present instead of always looking forward (this is still a work in progress)

12) Learning that true happiness is a choice each day and that the path to lasting fulfillment is through seeking what we can give to others vs. what we can get for ourselves

13) Coming to the realization that I’m not the best __________- there is always going to be someone better

14) Learning that life is what you make it, each person steers their own destiny

15) If you’re bored, you’re probably being a boring person

16) Captain Crunch really is the best cereal out there folks

17) The only problem Ketel One can’t solve is a hangover

18) There really is something to the whole “secret” phenomenon, like attracts like

19) Not really solid on where I am in the whole spirituality realm. What I do know is that we humans are likely tantamount to ants in a vast library with books of all different languages, and may have a good laugh at ourselves trying to understand it all, in the afterlife…whatever that may be.

20) Birth Control

21) To grasp the knowledge that whenever I’m feeling down because I can’t afford new shoes, there’s someone out there with no feet.

22) Southern California, a warm, beautiful, and diverse blend of all cultures, a mecca of progressive art and invention, a land full of dreamers, and my new home

23) Learning that life doesn’t have to be how Walt Disney told it

24) Learning the power of meditation, there’s no place like om’

25) For all 100+ of the 1^st dates I’ve been on in LA, the stories and laughs we’ve shared (as well as the experience of dining in the city’s finest…all gratis)

26) Learning to say no

27) To have learned you don’t need a book, a preacher, or a red string - to love thy neighbor.

28) For being brought up in a lower-middle class home and learning the value of working hard, and later working smart (thanks Landon)

29) For my mother who gave me the greatest gift- the notion that I could do anything I put my mind to (and for listening to me complain when most of them failed)

30) My failures (with the exception of that one morning when I woke up with a set of eyelashes on my left cheek, a Taco bell wrapper in my right hand, and the drive-thru attendant’s phone number in my left

I realize it’s a bit late, but thought I would share a New Year’s event that hopefully will not become an annual ritual. As the year came to a head, I thought about all the ones that got away. Many were gladly released back into the pond, several were ever so gently shoved out the door, and a few seemed to casually float away just as casually as they came in…I wondered about these few and decided to ask for their side of the story.

Now, some of you may be thinking by now that I am some sort of bizarre masochist, wanting to further chip away at an already cracked ego. Yet, I reasoned, “what if there is some magical reason I am still single?” What if they all said, “well to be honest Colleen, you have chronic halitosis,” or worse, “you were just a bit chubbier than most of the girls I usually date!” At least there would be a tangible, yet fixable, solution, right?

So I texted the few who got away, without my permission, with “Hi ______ It’s Colleen. Since it’s the new year, I think we are all trying to improve ourselves. Hope this isn’t too weird a request, but would you mind giving me some feedback about why you didn’t think we clicked? Brutal honest much appreciated :)

Here are the survey results:

Shiny Ball Syndrome: “hey just landed from bora bora and got ur text. We totally would’ve clicked but I was just beginning something with someone that ended up progressing. Ur amazing. Don’t change anything!

Mr. Dry Toast: :) very admirable of you. I always wonder those same things but never ask. I don’t know for sure that we totally did not click. I know I tend to like a girl who is a bit more girly and perhaps show a bit more sexiness (translation – put out on the first date) or sensuality. But its tough because I also want someone with a brain, who is professional and driven- ambitious and responsible. I know I was also focused quite a bit on my trip. I still haven’t made it back to LA yet. But all in all, I really don’t feel there was anything that was a factor. You seem like you have a great future and are quite amazing. Maybe it was just in that magic space in between.

Random Brit Dude I met for brunch: Hi I did think we clicked. But unfortunately, it’s not as simple as that. The girl I told you about is pregnant!

Random Young Dude I saw a Kathy Griffin Show with: Clicking is not something you can force. To be honest, you’re really cool I just have a lot on my plate right now (ever heard that one before?) with work. And I’m recruiting for jobs in NY and I don’t like jerking people around so I had to prioritize. Be yourself and you’ll be fine. I also don’t think that match is the best avenue.

Random dude I dated off and on for 3 months but never really fell for: Hey Colleen! Text you in a bit

Ok so there you have it…I was left just as confused as I was before I sent out the text. However, the fact that I didn’t even feel motivated to write about half these guys previously may point to something. It appears these guys simply felt the same way about me….blah.

Isn’t it funny that we hold such great importance to ourselves? We love ourselves so much that we are baffled when someone else doesn’t get it?? Even funnier, that two people can have so much chemistry that the sparks are almost palpable. Yet when one of them is with another person, there can be absolutely zilch, nada.

I went on a date with "Brad" on a Saturday night. We met off of Match, and his profile pictures looked amazing. He met my 6'0 height requirement and he did not have any spelling errors in his profile description (yes these are what its come down to...these are the minimal factors I now weigh into the possible biological contributor of my offspring).

We met at a great little restaurant in WeHo and when he showed up he did not disappoint. Great smile. Great outfit, almost bordering on metro. Great conversation. Great food. Great tab pick-up (utter and complete refusal for me to take any part of it). Great goodbye (he actually hugged me and then picked me up, which is totally great if you're into the whole man-handled thing). Great follow up (the after date text...saying "I think you are going to give Dr. Drew a run for his money ;) One problem- he left for Italy the following week and never called again...Now I've driven men to homosexuality, back to their ex-girlfriends, but never to a european country..This was a first.

I must admit. I was kinda blah about this guy anyway. Very strange. Almost like watching a movie you heard was supposed to be really great and feeling nothing...like "Up in the Air." So, I didn't really pursue him. No texting with some random question as if he just forgot about how wonderful I was and then all of the sudden would want another date (Sadly, I've actually tried this tactic). No wondering who he found that was better than yours truly, or losing sleep. Life just moved on.

I gotta tell ya- this happens quite a bit. This guy was the same guy, different name. He looks good on paper, but for whatever reason, there is just no "je ne sais quoi," no oomph- just blah. So much blah, in fact, that I have no more inspiration to write about him further.

DSM-IV Dude Diagnosis- Mr. Dry Toast

Presentation- This particular species makes up a significant portion of the LA scene. Upon first glance, he flashes one of those Colgate smiles. He is polished right down to his A. Testoni loafers. Yet, for some reason he lacks any sort of gravitas. It's possible he does with other women, but just not with you. It's as if you are both south poles of a magnet.

Prognosis- Difficult to determine. It could be that this bloke meets a kindred spirit and the chemistry is off the charts. On the other hand, this unfortunate soul could have the same "dry toast" effect on every lady he meets.

Treatment Recommendations: Find him a girl that is morally and spiritually vapid with a penchant for ridiculously expensive shoes. Likely that there won't be many fireworks, but she may just be the "butter" to his "bread."

Sometimes just because you kiss a frog doesn't mean he'll turn into a prince...If you'll remember, I was coming out of a three month relationship with an emotionally unavailable guy. You know?? The kind you fall for because he's spontaneous, unpredicatable, and carefree. In the end, it's those same things that hurt you.

Anyway, "Chaz" sent me a message through Facebook after seeing my picture and a comment I posted on a mutual "friend's" comment.*

*As an aside...I often wonder if men's backbones are eventually going to disappear like our vestigial tails. It seems that technology makes it so that a guy no longer has to have the courage to simply ask a woman out face to face, or to break up with her in person. Asking a girl when you are going to see her again via facebook IM is sooo not romantic...How is our subconscious to assume you can protect us from a lion if you can’t even garner the courage to walk up to us and say hello?....I digress

Chaz wrote me a message through facebook and asked if I would like to meet him at the Four Seasons for a drink. I deleted his message and went on about my business (my thinking was a. he’s likely to be even more strange in person, or b. I am not the first one he’s tried this with and would rather not participate in his salesman’s approach to dating).

Minutes later, I received a 2^nd message – “the first message was sent out of hummer (later he told me this was meant to read “humor”), but now that I have read more about you and am genuinely interested in what you have to say.” This was the hook. This guy had taken the time to learn about me and was not intimidated by me (not that I’m an intimidating person, but that I wasn’t just some LA actress, and he was up for the challenge).

I sent a message to our mutual friend who told me that he recently broke up with one of her friends and to just “watch out,” because he was just out of a relationship. I thought “join the club.” You gotta respect the guy for getting back on the horse again, and I thought if nothing else, maybe we could help each other out.

I accepted his friend request and began researching his profile- a few pictures of him out with friends (it appeared that he wore the same pull over and sports coat everywhere he went…but I’ve always found I never seem to “click” with men that are too concerned with clothing. Another thing I gleaned from his photos was that he seemed to have a close relationship with his family and he had psots from others on his wall which showed me that he was actually able to maintain bi-directional friendships, where people were actually concerned about him.

I was not all that impressed by his looks. He was not at all my type- fair skinned, soft jaw, blonde hair, small build. Yet I had to admire his gumption. Here he was, just out of a relationship, had read everything about me, and was willing to meet me in person in the next few hours.

Keep in mind, I also have accepted a new way of thinking when it comes to dating. I am no longer keeping a closed mind to people that don’t fit my expectations. My only expectation is the unexpected. I did ask him how old he was and his response was, “we’ll talk about it later.” Figuring he must be in his late 30’s or early 40’s and just didn’t want to ruin his chances if I thought that was too old, I told him “I just don’t date guys in their 20s anymore.” We set a time and were to meet in a few hours.

As promised, I arrived at the Four Seasons. I called him and saw him standing there- sportscoat, sunglasses, wavy blonde hair, standing next to his $65,000 car, which he had at the valet. We greeted each other and walked to our table. He insisted that we order bottled water vs. tap and immediately I began my search for an Ed Hardy T-shirt.

As I looked him over, his appearance was quite unremarkable; same infamous pullover and sports coat from the facebook pictures, a maroon scarf that hung around his neck in a manner that can only be learned at private preparatory schools such as the one Harry Potter attended, patches of grey hair seemed to frame his face at both temples, giving him a sort of wisdom, juxtaposed against his boyish face. His brown eyes seemed to be specked with bits of red when the sun caught them. It was at this moment, I think, my interested was first sparked.

We spoke for hours about things. We talked about his 20+ years in therapy (I realize this may be a red flag for some, but I tend to see this as an asset). He talked about his battles with learning disorders, and explained that he thought he was spelling “humor” when he wrote “hummer,” in his last message to me. Not being able to spell is a pet peeve of mine. However, I already decided this was not “the one,” and as such- didn’t go into the usual genetic geometry (you know…well so we have a 25% chance that our kids will have LD, or our kids will have a 75% chance of having blue eyes and blonde hair, or his grandmother and my grandmother both had fibromyalgia…etc).

I took this date for what it was and nothing else- a good afternoon of conversation. As he spoke, I studied his face. I wondered how old he must be. I really couldn’t see him being in his 40’s and wondered why age was such a big deal. Why he withheld his actual age from me until our meeting. I guessed by the gray at his temples, his 20+ years in therapy, his conservative choice in car (black Mercedes, no flash), and the way he spoke, that he was likely in his mid to late thirties. “Ok, how old are you?” I burst out. “I’m 27…well I will be 27 soon, I’m 26 now (isn’t that like saying I’m 7 and a half?).” My favorite line from a friend, when I told her his age was 26- “aka five.” Too funny.Waiter…check

This pretty much sealed his fate as far as I was concerned. Not only had he intentionally manipulated the truth, and omitted it when I told him I don’t date guys in their 20’s, but he was likely the chronological equivalent of me at 16.*

*Now some might argue that this is a complete contradiction to my earlier pledge to keep an open mind. However, I firmly believe men in their 20’s are like not all the way cooked cinnamon rolls…they look delicious on the outside, and are deceptively tasty, yet when you bite into the core, you discover it’s still gooey and you immediately start to get a queasiness in your stomach.

Yet, I was captivated by my new friend. He was definitely self actualized. He was certainly bold and spontaneous (two qualities I highly admire), and he did seem different from most guys in LA. He was actually in a place in his career where most men don’t get until their late 40’s or 50’s…granted his dad gave him a little help in that department, but nonetheless – it was one less concern this person would have. I wouldn’t have to deal with his constant career climbing and stress. He was already there. He was well bred, and most important of all- he was nice…exactly what I was looking for this go round.

He was a gentleman to the highest degree. He stood up when I left and came back to the table, he held doors, he listened. After about three hours I told him I needed to go and we hugged briefly and parted ways. I didn’t think much of whether he called again or not but told myself I would accept if he did. I was of the opinion that all nice men would be extended a date if they desired. This was my new plan to attract men into my life that “grew on me,’ and not necessarily the ones that cause thunder bolts to shoot down my spine. Thunderbolts there weren’t, but respect and intelligence were there, and my healthy self knew that was a promising start.

Of course he texted and called the next day (as the nice ones always do). He asked me out for a second date two days later, and I accepted.

Tuesday arrived and he took me to Prizzi’s. As he recounted his day, I became distracted by couples at other tables, I began to wonder what they must feel- excited to return home with each other, chomping at the bit to tear each others’ clothes off, and then fall asleep in one anothers’ arms.

I started to question if I could muster the stamina required for my new pledge to moderation and health. Like a fat girl starting a diet on New year’s day, I wondered if I had it in me to endure such a passion-less existence. My mind wondered about Mr. Butterflies and what he might be doing at that moment, conning some other girl into thinking he was “the one,” while he texted another.

In between bits of my date’s conversation, something about how family was important to him and how he let his father know earlier that day that was his number one priority, I began to bargain with myself, “maybe, just maybe I could put with Mr. Butterflies filandering, and inability to commit in exchange for the passion and excitement I could get back in return (I’m pretty sure drug addicts have a similar conversation with themselves right before they end up overdosing and having their stomach’s pumped).”

“You are stunning,” Chaz said, as if it just came to the surface of his mind and could not hold it in any longer. Just like that I was transported back to the present moment. Here this guy was, taking me out for a nice dinner, trying to demonstrate to me that family was on his mind and he was at a stage in his life where he was ready for something substantial, and all I could think about was the guy who couldn’t commit. No one had ever called me “stunning.” There was a bit of a spark.

He walked me to my door and kissed me. Although I towered over him in heels, his body seemed to fit mine in a way that felt really, really good. The kiss was better than I expected. Fantastic really. Another spark….Maybe I could do this??

Like all nice guys that went before him, he asked me out for date number three on date number two. We set it for Saturday and that was that.

My week plugged on unremarkably and he asked me if I wanted to come over and watch a movie last minute on Thursday. I declined because I was exhausted and told him I’d see him on Saturday (keep in mind had Mr. Butterflies asked if I would wash his car that night, I would have been halfway over to his house with my cleaning supplies and spray nozzle).

That same night, I was talking to a close friend who asked about this new guy, Chaz, and I told him “he’s kinda growing on me. I’m giving him a 3rd date.” The friend apparently knew of him and warned me to just “tread with caution…apparently he’s a bit of a player. He asked out his girlfriend’s friend while he was still dating her. Just be careful you know, he’s 26 and he’s got a lot of money…have fun, but don’t get too serious.”

Now if you know anything of my track record…he couldn’t have sparked my interest more about ol’ Chaz than if he said “this guy has got a unicorn in his basement.” “Nice” was foreign to me…”player” was not. The gauntlet had been laid and I was now a bit excited for the challenge. (This is akin to when you’re on a diet and are eating something that you secretly know has hidden sugars in it).

I texted our boy Chaz and questioned the news. He immediately called and said “look here’s the nitty gritty ugly truth…I’ve been around the block. But I really like you. You’re different. I actually care about what you have to say. If I had one piece of advice, I guess I would just say ‘make me wait’.” More and more, I felt like this frog was turning into a prince. Not only was he honest, but he was mature, and knew exactly what he needed.

Saturday arrived and I was actually a little excited about our date. We went to Katana and I was blown away by what I witnessed. As we pulled up to the valet, the attendant’s face registered a hint of recognition and simply waived us in past the line. As soon as my date said his name to the hostess, a manager appeared form thin air, shook his hand, and said “right this way sir.”

We were seated at one of the best tables in the house. Chaz began just ordering without even glancing at the menu. He ordered Sake and when the waitress asked which he preferred, he responded, ‘whatever you thing is best…I trust your judgment.” He stood up when I left and came back to the table. He refilled my drink when it became empty. When a friend who joined us put his card in to pay the check, Chaz simply gave it back to him. I was on a date with Batman and we were now in full spark mode.

We had a great night and he introduced me to several of his childhood friends that night. He drove me home and asked when he could see me again. We made a date for Tuesday.

At this point I was in a state of pure bliss. I had held to my plan of giving the nice guy a shot and it was paying off in full. He gave me a book his dad wrote which was brilliant. It was all about self discovery and improvement. I saw the man this guy had potential to become. I felt really fortunate at that moment.

Date number four and Mr. Chaz invited me over to watch a movie…translation = I’d like you to come over to my house so I can make out with you and possibly convince you to sleep with me.

Well I knew the sleeping together part was definitely out of the question, but if the kiss was any indication of things to come, I was certainly up for making out. We ordered in and had wine. He talked to me again about his life growing up and seemed interested in mine. Out of the blue, he said “I want to get away for a few days…you wanna go somewhere?” “Um…ok, where do you have in mind,” I asked. “Hmm..I dunno, Cabo?”

Ok so let’s recap…this guy is a reformed player, turned nice guy, who not only knows about what I am interested in and who I am, but appreciates me more for it. He is a fantastic kisser and gets amazing service wherever we go. Did I mention he thinks I’m stunning and wants to take me to Cabo?

“Well the DVD player is in my room, so we have to watch the movie in there, is that ok?” Chaz asked. Clever ain’t he?

The movie he chose was conveniently born and quickly took a backseat to our making out. I made it clear to him that I liked him and didn’t want to ruin anything by going too fast. He simply kissed me and said “you’re the boss.”

That was it. He was getting some. Not sure if that was a line he used in the past, but the idea that he was putting me in total control and being completely respectful of my values, made me want to throw them all out the window at that moment.

Moments later, we were both completely naked, the only glimpses of what was happening were captured by moonlight pouring in through his bedroom window. Although his was stark contrast from Mr. Butterflies physique- 6’4’’, legs that wrapped circles around me, and a chest and stomach that looked like they were etched in stone…Chaz was somehow angelic.

I could feel his body heat all over me. His blond wavy hair, his gentle eyes, and fair skin all seemed to meld together in a cherub-like glow. In that moment, I began to see him differently. Not only was becoming increasingly interesting to me in so many ways, he was pretty.

I knew this was in part, attributable to the oxytocin that was now flowing through my body (mother nature’s mean little trick to convince all women that the man they are sleeping with is the one and only and she should only bear and take care of his offspring…FYI: another reason ladies not to sleep with someone unless you are absolutely sure this is the right one to fall for).

Afterwards he told me how he usually just lost interest in girls after he slept with them. He said “I would just look in the mirror and think, ‘whats wrong with me”. He said most were just pretty faces who just laid there. He said that he didn’t think people should go by any timeline to have sex and that it should just happen naturally. I reminded him that also told me to make him “wait,” and he replied “yeah but you’re different from the rest , ya know?”

I spent the night because I had a flight to catch the next morning and his was much closer to LAX than mine. We talked until we fell asleep. He said things like “when you meet my dad,” and started another sentence with “when you meet my mom,” He talked about his ex-girlfriend and when I questioned “you mean the one you were just with a few weeks ago,” he responded “no no she wasn’t my girlfriend, she was just a thing.”

As my eyes grew heavier, I floated off to sleep. His bed felt like a cloud..as if I weren’t already on cloud nine. Yet, I noticed when I turned over to sleep he didn’t follow. Not an arm, not a leg, not even a hand. Weird. His non-verbals were definitely not congruent with what he was saying. If I was so different, so interesting, why was I laying in his bed with not so much as a finger on me. He was all hands only hours before. I might as well have been in a sleeping bag in the living room.

Of course I did not sleep well. Girls never do when they stay at a guys place. How could you between the constant hair adjustments to make sure you look like you just “wake up that way,” sucking in your stomach all night, or being consistently woken up by males’ notorious night noises..My little “angel,” seemed to have a bit of a snoring problem. Also, men never seem to have enough pillows. I need to have one between my knees when I sleep, and we all know the importance of proper spine alignment.

I woke up around 5 am the next morning and he let me out. I drove off to the airport, blissful, and hopeful. I felt warm with the knowledge that I would soon be spending Christmas with my family and had someone special back home.

After my seven hour flight, I turned on my phone in anticipation of a flurry of voicemails and texts from him, telling me how great a night he had, and that he missed me already. Minutes went by after turning my phone on and nothing. I raised my phone toward the bulk head to try and get a better signal…still nothing. I waited until I got out of the gates, figuring the airport might have difficulty with so many cells on. Nothing.

Immediately, a wave of fear, anger, shame, disappointment crashed in on me. Like a chiding parent, my mind began the critique “well if you wouldn’t have drank so much wine, he told you to wait, do you need it engraved on your forehead, maybe you shouldn’t have told him how differently you grew up, maybe he doesn’t think you fit in, why did you spend the night, that wasn’t very lady like.”

I felt awful. My ego, already weakened and compromised from Mr. Butterflies, was taking another bruising. The irony of it all, was this was coming from someone I actually thought was different than the usual type of guy I pursue.

I tried to focus on my family- the entire reason I flew home for the holidays. I got a few texts from him saying vanilla things such as “glad you had a safe trip, will text tomorrow.” But the evidence was clear- I slept with him too soon and he was no longer interested. Lesson learned, no matter how mature one appears…no matter how different they tell you, you are- WAIT. They will still think you are stunning in 3 months as they do in 3 weeks, unless it is just about the sex, and if it is- you’ll find out soon enough- the easy way.

The next day, I get a text saying “actually going away for a couple of days, If I don’t speak to you tomorrow, have a merry x-mas (he’s jewish btw).” “Have a great trip,” I responded. Thinking, maybe he just needs to get away and clear his head.

The next day, I get a text “I ran into my ex a few days ago and we are getting back together. Sorry it was unexpected. Take care.” I told him “good luck with the recyclable,” and headed out with my friends and tried to keep my mind off of it. Yet, I felt terrible. My heart flopped, stomach dropped, swift kick to stomach.

Well there you have it…not only do I have magical powers to drive men to homosexuality, I apparently can send them running back for their exes (who weren’t even “exes” according to them in the first place).

The quintessential piece of this was that, I, like many women (and probably some men) internalized the hurt. Instead of understanding that this was his “stuff,” – I blamed myself and – like a detective, immediately began assessing what I could have done differently to maintain his interest. Keep in mind, I was pinning my hopes for a lasting relationship on a 26 year old who has grown up in a fantasy world of material abundance and emotional disconnection.

I am left now in a bit of shock, a state of confusion. Even when I thought I was making a “healthy” choice, I was still making the wrong one. It’s like the lady who thinks she’s eating a salad and goes for the Caesar at 1700 calories..(I apologize for all the food analogies, I think I’m just in withdrawal from the holidays).

Each time I try to control the situation- it feels like I’m turning on to a dead end. No through outlet. Again, I felt this sense of loss. This sense that “but wait I thought he was the one.” Yet, the reality is- he isn’t. We only knew each other a few short weeks. What he did, like Mr. Butterflies before him, was activate my fear of abandonment. He recapitulated that all over again, and that felt comfortable, that felt like something I knew, yet something that caused such a visceral response in my gut. This is not love, this is fear.

The sad part is, when I met said Caesar salad (Chaz), I was starting to regain my strength and independence from Mr. Butterflies. “Colleen” was starting to resurface. My interests came back and I started to think about me. I took interest in my healthy relationships and really started to cultivate the spiritual part of me (something that has been lacking for a while). I gave that all up for what I thought was dry land. It turned out to be quick sand, and now I feel I am back out at sea, treading water without a life vest.

My focus now? To become my own life vest. I have to quit waiting to be saved, and save myself. Find myself (cliché..yeah a little bit), love myself, and then look outward. I recently read that we cannot rely on the external because it is always changing (isn’t that the truth?), but that we must rely on the internal. I love that.

Years ago, I used to think I could do it backwards. I remember reading a quote in Vogue by Jennifer Aniston after her marriage to Brad Pitt. She said “Some people say you have to love yourself first. I didn’t. I learned to love myself through his eyes. I see how much he loves me and I’m like, hey I must not be that bad.” I thought, maybe I could do the same. Maybe I could find someone who loves me so much, that I follow suit. Turns out, it didn’t work out that great for Jen and its not working out that great with me either.

How can I expect to sell a product I don’t know that much about? Afterall, during the time most of us are getting our sea legs, learning who we are, what we like, what we don’t like, I was studying everyone else for ten years. I have to turn the magnifying glass on myself. I have to be ok with spending a night in with only myself and be perfectly content that the only thing wrapped around me is my own arms. I need to learn to want to wrap my arms around myself and find something odd in those who don’t. As Katherine Hepburn once said, “why would I want to arrive with someone that doesn’t want to arrive with me?”

Dude DSM-IV Diagnosis-  The SilverSpoon

Presentation: This patient presents with a grandiose sense of self, punctuated by a substantive and organized collection of thoughts about himself. He is thoroughly self analyzed yet is subject to recapitulate the same spin cycle of material abundance and social-emotional disconnection when he does not put his insight into practice.

Prognosis- This is one of the most difficult of the species because he has never needed anything, but will always want for more. This is all thanks to the early hole created by giving a child everything they need but human interaction and connection.

Rx and Treatment Recommendations: Although this is a difficult case to treat, the solution is the same: present him with a girl that does not want him, one that has an inability to really connect with him on an emotional level, but enjoys the life he can provide through the material realm- thereby recreating an early dynamic he is used to...this will in turn make her the most desirable object of his eye and the winner of his heart.

Yep, she's back on the scene, and boy is it ugly out there...I believe that as we get older, understand who we are, and become "whole," it begins to be increasingly difficult to find our "other half."

When I was 14, all it took for me to accept a date was that he was "cute," and QB of the football team. Nevermind that he would become the guy who continually cheated on me, got in fights, and tried every chemical that came his way. When I was 17 all it took was that he was "older,"  drove a tracker, and had great pool parties every night in the summer. Nevermind he would become the guy who was still tossing the football with his buddies, living in his parents' basement, and wearing his highschool football jersey when he's 24. When I was 19, all it took was that he was 6'7'' with dimples, could tutor me in math, and was tenaciously persistent....never mind that he would become the guy that spent Saturday nights yelling at 13 year old Korean boys across the internet as he played "Call to Action," and slept in until 2 in the afternoon every day...

As you get older, you become more versed in who you are. You start to know, maybe not as much about what you do want, but definitely what you don't.

"Daniel" was a guy who was quite persistent in his pursuit of me on match.com. In fact, he was the impetus for "Kat Malandrino." He would wink and email, saying things like "I figure if I keep writing, one of these days you will have to write back." Me, being in the midst of a break up and wanting to keep my mind busy, finally relented. I wrote back and told him to give me a call. About four seconds later, my phone rang...Apparently, men can be really efficient when they want.

Daniel and I spoke about everything from the greatness of Chicago (his home town) to the importance and necessity of chemistry and why his last relationship failed for lack of it. He was very complimentary and seemed at ease with communicating and articulating what he meant. After about an hour and a half of conversation, he began describing his sexual preferences. Now, what he described wasn't anything abnormal. What I did find abnormal, was the fact that this stranger was telling me about his erotic likes and dislikes on our first phone conversation. I have never shaken his hand at this point, and he's describing in detail, what turns him on in the bedroom?

I expressed that I felt it was a bit soon, and did not want this to turn into a phone sex call. He digressed and explained that the last girl he dated, they got on really well. Yet, after a while of dating, learned that she definitely wasn't in to what he wanted and they split up...Chalk it up to my academic training, or just being a woman- I did not want him to feel unaccepted. I told him I understood and thanked him for being so open and honest with me. However, I explained, that women need to have some sort of emotional connection with a person. They can't just be that intimate on a phone conversation and divulge their every sexual whim right out of the gates. I also told him that I was in a relationship for several years where the person was so obsessed with sex that I could not change in front of him, or it would be considered "teasing." We had to go to therapy to work on my "low libido." Meanwhile his porn sites were categorized by folder and he would write ten page fantasy scenarios in his spare time. I told him that I was a bit leary of someone who talked about their sexual preferences from the start, because of this.

He seemed to understand and the conversation took a turn for the better. He told me how refreshing it was to speak with "someone with a brain," and that he was looking forward to "our second date" on Saturday. Three hours later, we ended our call, and I too was a bit excited about meeting this person I spoke so freely with on Saturday. Still, something was off. Friday approached and I received a text "what kind of wine do you like?"

Bingo. This guy thought I was going to come over to his house on the first date? Not only was he a hornball, but he was also cheap...not a good combo, and a quick reminder of ghosts of datedoctor's past.

My response: "I drink vodka. What do you have in mind?"

His: "thinkin with this weather it might be nice to stay in, eat din, drink some wine or vodka in your case, watch a movie

Mine: you know...the more I have been thinking about our conversation on Sunday... I really dont think we're a good fit...I'd like to cancel our date tomorrow

His: Huh?

Mine: I think you are looking for a bed buddy and not a relationship

His: What are you talking about ?? Are joking?

His: A bit judgmental no?

His: You're misreading me completely. Forget the staying in idea.

Mine: No I dont think you understood. I'm not interested anymore.. Really don't think I'm the right person for you...Seem like you have a lot to offer someone else from our phone call.. But that someone's not me

His; "The more I think about our conversation sunday" ... You mean the 3 hour convo we both said was amazing?

Mine: yes but half was spent talking about sex...I think its inappropriate and a sign of things to come

His: Wow. You're insane

(people must think this is a real insult to psychologists???)

Mine: No need to get defensive we're just not right for each other...I wish you the best of luck

His: breaking plans the day before...kinda bipolar actually a bit disturbing to put it lightly

At this point I stopped responding, because I got my message across, and it was clear he was being defensive. Now most guys at this point, would recognize they've made a girl feel uncomfortable, back track, and explain why they thought it was a good idea to stay in. Maybe they say "I'm on a tight budget right now, but I really wanted to meet you," or they say, " I just bought this fresh fish and wanted to impress you," but they definitely don't start calling you "insane," and "bipolar."If he was like this now, I couldn't imagine what he would be like after date three...

So I cut the date off before it even started and saved myself an hour of getting ready, and two or three hours on a date with a guy that wasn't right. Its always funny to me when someone feels as though they've "wasted" time with an ex. The truth is, had we not invested that time with those people in our past, we'd never know who we are and what we want (or what we dont) today.

It was exactly one year ago today that everything I thought to be true in this world was completely turned on its head. It was one year ago today that I was standing in the Apple store with my, at the time, boyfriend- getting ready to go into a two-year phone contract together. It was one year ago today, that I saw the texts from another girlfriend on the other side of the world saying, "I really fancy a hug from you right now XXX." It was one year ago tomorrow, that I got on a plane and went home.

Time is a funny and wondrous thing. No matter how much pain and heartache we are experiencing, it really does heal all wounds. At the time, I remember sleeping on a small cot at my mom's house and waking up several times throughout the night- each time a cruel reminder of my reality. I can almost hear those creaky springs in the bed that collectively let out a chorus of sighs each time I tossed at night. I remember warm and salty tears that I just let set on my face because there was no point in wiping them off, like rain- they would only come again. My insides felt hollow and not just because the only thing I could manage to ingest was an acai smoothie from smoothie king (a taste I can still never taste without being immediately thwarted back to that moment). My heart felt like it literally hurt and I wondered if I might be the first person to actually die from a broken heart.

Indiana's icy climate, with its barren trees- turned to icicles, and it's streets of glass, tended to mimick the frozen state I fell into during that winter at home. Time seemed to come to a halt, and I felt that I would never get out of this state. I remember wondering aimlessly down the halls of my house that seemed so much bigger when I was a child. I remember when the room I was now sleeping in was periwinkle purple with a cotton ice cream cone on the wall and my biggest issue was whether or not I was going to give barbie's hair a wash or a cut.

I wondered,"how did I get myself here? what did i do to deserve this level of suffering?" How did life get so complicated? Yet, now I know- life is somehow made sweeter, the more bitter it gets.

They say it takes half as long as you were with the person to get over them. I'd say that's about right. After about three months of being in this fog, it started to lift. I remember appreciating something as simple as a clear morning- a good cup of coffee on the porch, or seeing a cardinal perched on our bird bath.

Since then, I picked up and moved to Los Angeles and pursued my dreams of becoming anything but normal. I moved in with two awesome dudes whose biggest issues are whether or not they should play Tiger Woods PGA Tour or Tour of Duty 4. I continued developing the business I had created and I got a post-doc so I could jump the final hoop that is becoming a psychologist/please my parents, and get my license.

I have also gone on more than 80 dates.

I'm gonna let that sentence stand by itself because it needs to. Although a year has passed, I find myself getting over yet another heartache. Yet, I do not look at myself as a passive victim. I take responsibility for the predicament I find myself, correction- keep finding myself in, year after year. There is some part of me that continually seeks out and finds these men that recapitulate the dynamic I am most secure with- insecurity.

After doing some reading about love addiction, I have come to terms with the idea that I may have some form of it, to a mild degree (some of these women I read about are basically stalking these men, but call it "following intently"...whoa). I am definitely addicted to the euphoria thats associated with these types of lightning bolt relationships. Yet, the higher you go, the harder you fall. So that begs the question- if a straight and narrow, no ups and downs, relationship is what the doctor ordered, is it really what the doctor wants??