resonance vs. dissonanace

The human mind makes countless judgements in the blink of an eye, the high-tech matter between the ears filtering what’s important and what’s not. We notice, determine and discern, consciously and unconsciously processing information for relevance, significance or congruence.

As it relates to dating, we notice little things about the folks we meet and add them to evidence for or against our potential or compatibility. We’re searching for clues, for resonance or dissonance. I wrote of that cosmic call-and-answer phenomenon I experienced when I met more-like-it. This is a great example of resonance, cues that I’m getting closer to attracting the kind of man I’d like in my life. I use this information to get even more specific.

For example, my list doesn’t specify what type of car my future mate should drive, yet I find I notice and interpret. I like a nice ride, and I suspect my guy also has an appreciation for foreign engineering. I’m not going to add this sort of thing to my list, but it resonates with me. (Let’s not discuss that my foreign-make luxury sedan is rusting and 15-years-old.)

Also, based on the kinds of conversations and emotional maturity level of the various guys I’ve met, I think I share a greater resonance with divorced men who have children. They seem a little more introspective and…well…humble. I’m not going to rule out a man who’s never been married nor had children; right now I just find it easier to relate to guys who’ve gone through something similar to what I’ve been through. Perhaps I won’t feel the same way in a few months or years.

If you look at the stats (50% of first marriages end in divorce; 70% of second marriages end in divorce), then I should probably reconsider. Marrying a guy who’s never been married could at least improve my odds by 10%, right? Bring it right on down to 60% chance of divorce. Now that’s winning!

I was once telling a friend about the lobbyist. I scoffed at the idea of even flirting with him, until my friend pointed out, “How do you know who can love you best?” It’s a good question. Maybe the man who will love me best is an actuary or a litigator…but it’s certainly easier to envision having a relationship with someone who shares a certain intellectual or career resonance, as well. (And by resonance, I’m leaning toward compatibility, understanding, rather than sameness.)

So…is all this an exercise in intellectual laziness? Am I looking in the mirror and trying to find someone just like me? Or are these clues to finding a match and a sense of belonging real?

Ideally, I’d like to think there’s someone out there with whom I share plenty in common, but who can also stretch my mind, imagination and sense of what’s possible, just as I hope to do for him.

dating with children

Let me begin by describing my children: they are healthy — free of allergies, asthma and chronic conditions. (Knock on wood…we should all be so blessed.) They are energetic and love to run and play. Each has a mellow and sweet disposition and both are well-liked. Also, they are beautiful. Sure, I have parenting challenges like anyone else, but I am blessed beyond measure to have these bright, loving and cooperative children to nurture.

I try to be a halfway decent mother (despite, at one time, having had the inclination to write a series of parenting manuals called “The Bad Parents’ Guide to…” Shoulda.). Therefore, it was pretty important to me to try to take the high road (as much as I could) during the dismantling of my marriage.

Part of this, in my mind, meant limiting my children’s exposure to my interpersonal relationships with other men. I didn’t want them to see me going from one relationship right into another. However, from the moment my ex moved out, this proved a difficult task: Male friends seemed to come out of the woodwork in my first days, weeks and months of becoming single, stopping by to see if I needed something done around the house. One fixed the radiator on my car and another thanked me for a project I’d voluntarily done for him (well over a decade ago) with an envelope of cash. Others took us on outings to amusement parks or to the movies.

Children are keen to pick up energy, and mine sensed no hanky-panky as these were strictly platonic relationships. No harm was done — and, unfortunately, this volunteerism quickly tapered off.

As I’ve begun to date, however, I must be more vigilant about what I say and do around my children. They are my nearly constant companions and, at times, my confidantes. I try to maintain appropriate parent/adult-child boundaries yet, I have to confess, this can be difficult. My children are exposed to some prime time television, so they are not oblivious to the notion of crushes or liking others of the opposite sex or adults wanting to kiss. So they have witnessed a small handful of my (telephone) interactions with Chi-guy, for example. They were in the car when I called to wish him a happy birthday, and also when I asked him to take me on a date. They probably catch glimpses of my online dating site, but I doubt they understand what it is.

I feel blessed to be able to have open conversations with my children about having a boy for a friend but also having a crush on him. We speak in terms they can understand, and they have an opportunity to voice the requisite, “I wish you still liked Daddy.” Me too. That would have been much easier on all of us.

So what do my children know of my dating life? They know I have a friend in Chicago who I have a crush on. They know I want to meet men and find a life partner. They know I want to be married and live as a family together with a man other than their father, and that might mean with other children, too. And they ask questions about these things: “What will he be like?” He’ll be kind and loving. “Do you think Daddy might have a friend you’d like?” Um, I don’t think that would be a very good idea. “Will he like children?” He’s going to have to. And then I remind them about staying with Max and his family and how his step children snuggle right up to him.

The day I met more-like-it, my children got off the bus and my son asked how my day was. I told my children that it had been a great day — in fact, I’d met a really cool guy that morning for coffee. (I did not mention that it was a date.) My son asked, “Mommy, do you think you might have made a new friend?” I hope so, I told him.

I think I’ve managed all this pretty well so far. I have yet to date anyone seriously, so no love interests have been brought into my children’s lives. And I intend to err on the side of caution, dating on the weekends that the children are with their father. I plan to wait until a relationship is heading toward commitment before introducing any man into their lives. These are bridges I’ll cross when the time comes.

Meanwhile, my biggest fumble so far is leaving my sanitized vibrator on the counter top to dry and realizing it was still sitting there when my daughter dumped her water bottle in the sink after school. Oops! Not sure we’re ready for that conversation yet…

kissing frogs

When I try to explain to some men that I don’t plan to date one person exclusively for awhile, they nod with understanding and wish me well “playing the field.” Meanwhile, they explain, they’re looking for someone special… as if these are two different things.

How many times have we heard, “you’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs” by the time we’re adult women?

I am looking for someone special. But to find him, I recognize that I’m likely going to have to meet and interact with a lot of men. I don’t plan to fling myself into exclusivity any time soon. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t veer that way if it felt completely natural and right. After all, I am a monogamist at heart.

It should be said that as many of the men I’ve met online interpret the same messages to mean that I’m ready to get serious and, because they’re not, they opt out.

Am I sending mixed messages? I’m using the same words. But, if I’m honest, the energy behind them is more than a little inconsistent.

which is worse, hormones or tmi?

I’ve mentioned before that the 40-year-old divorcée’s libido is beyond compare. I had a few months of fun as a singleton and then decided I was over the empty, hollow physical affairs. In other words, I’ve given up casual sex in search of meaning.

But I can’t deny that lately I revisit this stance at least monthly, if not weekly. (Okay, fine, perhaps daily or hourly is more accurate.) Depending on where I am hormonally.

Again, this topic is inspired by someone I met online — or, rather, the kind of information to be found online. I liked his mind, yet I don’t anticipate seeing him again — at least not in a romantically inclined manner. Still, having had some rather openly expressive conversations and flirtatious emails, I found him sexually intriguing. He seems more experimental than most of my past lovers have been. He obliquely mentioned porn twice in approximately three conversations, as well as confessing that he’s a big fan of toys. I can’t deny having browsed through all the sex-related questions he answered as part of his profile on our dating site. It seems he has answered an abundance, compulsively…and the things he’s willing to do with his tongue are…well, let’s just say the thought excites me.

In other words, I probably know too much for my own good. I can’t help but think it would be fun — really fun — to take that knowledge and convert it into experience.

Thus, in spite of my desire to have a tender, loving, intimate relationship with genuine companionship and long-term potential, my hormones and intrigue are conspiring against me. I am actually tempted to proposition this man. Even though I know better. Even though there are many other guys who have shown far more interest in getting physical with me, rather than merely titillating banter. But, Jeez, while I’m searching for the needle in the haystack, is it really necessary to deny myself some healthy sport?

The problem is, of course, that while I’ve proven to myself that I am capable of sex free from emotional encumbrance, I think the likelihood that I could manage such an arrangement with this particular fellow is small. Who was it who observed that men can’t think clearly until they get sex, while women are capable of thinking clearly only until they have sex? At any rate, I definitely think there’s some truth in it. I’m inclined to believe I might develop feelings. So I shall try to resist the encouragement of the devil on my shoulder.

I’m not really sure whether it’s hormones, this blessed, cursed 40-year-old libido or too much graphic knowledge that’s causing me to have these thoughts. But I’d be lying if I tried to deny thinking them.

above all, a good roof

Both my home and my psyche are in fixer-upper condition.

I may have mentioned this before, but my ex was not particularly handy around the home. While he stayed home with our young children, familiarity with his surroundings seemed to engender blindness. Case in point: when the roof over his head began to leak, I had to point it out to him. And even though he knew roofers, he never managed to make the appropriate arrangements (which explains all the banging going on up there each day and the $10,000 gap in my finances).

If there was something I wanted done, no matter how simple, I started calling contractors or handymen for bids. When the tree guy came to look at the white ash, his quote was deemed “ridiculous” and my ex began trimming. So I managed to accomplish small improvements in this way. Any cost or investment, no matter how low, was “ridiculous” to my wasband, whose grasp on fiscal and other realities seemed to have eroded over his time at home.

Our kitchen remodel made it to 85% complete…and, six years later, there’s still a list of to-do’s including new back doors, trim, a back splash and a few other details. And the bathroom needs a major remodel and … well, you get the idea.

My psyche is much the same way just now: there are some areas that need anything from a little redecorating or brightening up with fresh flowers to major renovation.

Inside my house, there are improvements on my wish list that I notice every day. Yet I’m repairing the roof first. I can’t see it, except from outside. It won’t affect my daily comfort (aside from during a hard rain). Yet, it’s as my roofer said, “Above all, a good roof.” The roof is the necessary shelter, the fundamental protection that will allow me to take the next necessary steps: a new ceiling, doors and trim. Eventually a bathroom.

Addressing the internal wounds is somewhat different, but it begins the same way. The first order of business is to secure shelter, a protected space or environment in which to process the emotions. Or, as Dr. Phil has explained (on one or more of the small handful of shows I’ve seen), “a safe place to land.” Divorce (and its associated betrayals), regardless of who or how or why it’s initiated, has a way of decimating the self-esteem, self-worth, ability to trust and more. One needs time and space to restore them.

And then there are matters of forgiveness. As if forgiving the ex were not practically unthinkable in and of itself, one must move beyond this to the even more monumental effort of forgiving one’s self: for failing to make it work, for actual harm caused, for giving up to soon or for staying too long and, especially, for the poor relationship example demonstrated to the children. And so much more.

While all that work is being addressed, there are the realizations and discoveries of habits, beliefs and paradigms adopted and lived out in the course of a failing relationship that must be examined and, likely, let go for something new and more wonderful to bloom. Certain triggers cause responses that are entirely too reactionary. As an example, say the words “stay at home father” and watch as I break out in a rash… Though my ex was much better equipped to be a full-time caregiver than I was when our children were babies, the experience ultimately took a turn for the resentful. I have to take a few deep breaths and remind myself that said domestic arrangement can and does actually work for a growing number of other families.

I’d say the roof is half-way finished. It would be impossible to say where my psyche is at along the path or how far I’ve come in healing. While I’d like to think that I am facing my challenges and healing consciously, there is no real way to determine whether or when there will be an end to the work. I can’t simply look at the construction schedule (and then add another few months). The past three months of down time to mull and process has been a true gift, and I’d like to believe I’ve made significant progress in healing my heart.

Yet I have a feeling the true test will be, as it is now, the patience, love and understanding I demonstrate to my children, my presence and openness, and the woman I am in relation to others.

talking about blogging about Chi-guy

About a month ago…

I’d been blogging about Chi-guy, and then letting him know about it. It seemed like the stand-up, professional courtesy thing to do. So I’d tell him I’d published an entry, and then we’d have a little exchange about it, either over text, email or the phone.

When I asked him how he’d remembered our coffee, he said his recollection was very similar. But then he clarified that, when he told me of his divorce, I hadn’t hid my excitement as well as I might have hoped. In fact, he said I was “giddy about it, actually.” I felt mortified to hear this and told him so; he comforted me with, “Anything less would have been insulting.”

At one point, he suggested the part about our evening together could use a re-write.

“And how would you like it to end?” I asked.

“Less like ‘Casablanca,’ more like porn,” he typed back.

“Why don’t you write your version for me,” I suggested.

“In it, I give it to you slow, make you beg for more,” he wrote. (Thus, part 7.)

Before, he wouldn’t go to bed with me because he “liked” me. In our more recent conversations, he’s become more suggestive. So all this has me wondering: did Chi-guy have a change of heart? Does he wish he’d taken the opportunity while he had the chance? Does he simply feel safe being more sexually flirtatious in his emails because I have no travel plans to Chicago? Has he (much like the women I know) ruled me out as a potential mate?

Sure enough, he called a couple of weeks later to let me know how much he was enjoying reading about us and my perspective on our history. It was then that I guessed, and he confessed, that the real reason he didn’t come back up to my room with me is because he knew I wanted him to stay the night — and he wasn’t ready for that. When I told him how dumb he’d been, he agreed. He confessed he might have acted differently today.

In writing about what happened between us, I’ve re-processed all the feelings I had. When I merely think back, it seems my feelings were involved all along. Reading my journal and blogging, however, has given me greater perspective on when and how my emotions began to engage.

It’s weird, all this banter back and forth with someone for whom I’ve had feelings, writing about our history, talking about recollections, flirting in the present. I’m fine knowing that he’s reading it; it’s when he calls and wants to talk about it that I feel so tremendously exposed and vulnerable.

NEWS FLASH: Chi-guy just called again, this time to let me know that he’s working on a 12-week contract for a client that’s right here in my hometown. Just the thought of his potential business travel has me smiling!

that’s more like it…or not

I wrote a several days ago about more-like-it, who I met at a coffee shop a few weeks ago. I’d met him online, then in person, we’d talked on the phone, and I was enjoying getting to know him and his flirtatious personality.

When we first communicated, the conversation and flirtation flowed naturally. He was articulate and we seemed to be of a similar mind. He said all the right things. When we first met, I learned he had studied Japanese in university. I had lived in Japan. I was looking for someone who had bandwidth, presence and was concerned with health. He talked about balance, engaged parenting and cooking with organic ingredients.

I confess that physical beauty matters to me (I am a Libra, after all), and I’d give more-like-it a solid eight on a scale from one to ten. In the world of our online dating site, however, he’s a 26 (yes, out of ten) — far and away the best match for my physical type that I’d met (not only because of general attractiveness, but also because he could easily be assumed to have sired my offspring).

Finally, previous to meeting more-like-it, my most recent emotional attachment had been to Chi-guy. I wondered where all the guys like him — articulate, attractive, creative, intelligent and so much more — were in this city. Sure enough, more-like-it shares both age and astrological sign with Chi-guy. (Both are Virgo goats; neither an auspicious match for me.)

At the risk of being redundant, so much of what I’d put out there on my list, what I want — both written and unwritten — and more was reflected back at me. Though I doubt I’m explaining it very well, what I experienced was like some bizarre universe communion, a cosmic call and answer. I felt validated. And kinda powerful.

More-like-it was emotionally expressive and warm, yet I sensed there was something holding him back. His pain was palpable — too fresh for his divorce timeline. Following our last lunch, during which I asked him what he wanted (he said he wasn’t sure he knew), he spent some time reflecting and realized he wasn’t ready to date. So he dropped out.

I can’t deny feeling a little disappointed. I could feel a definite intellectual connection and was beginning to sense a physical connection, but we hadn’t built that emotional bridge yet. This was a pretty rockin’ guy, with a lot of positives going for him. The thought that I might get to know him better had given me something to look forward to.

More-like-it had solid, compelling reasons for taking a couple of steps back and away from dating. And I took a pause myself — I cancelled a date or two and left some messages unanswered for a few days to re-evaluate my own readiness. (Suddenly my profile seems to be on fire!)

He told me that I deserve to meet someone amazing and spend time with people who are “all in.” Yet some of his reasons for backing off are the very reasons I’m staying in. I’m looking at things differently these days:

I’m meeting people because I enjoy meeting people (even when I don’t really feel like meeting people).
I’m flirting to practice flirting.
I’m dating to develop confidence in relating to men romantically again.
I’m taking what I can from each interaction, trying to give and receive something positive each time, continuing to develop a clearer picture of what makes me feel good and what a life-affirming relationship looks like for me.
I’m not “all in” myself. And I may not be until I fall in love. “All in” suggests commitment to me, and the only commitments I have right now are to myself, my children and to putting myself out there.
Even if I’m only 85% ready to date, dating casually is what’s going to get me ready. Learning to take the small disappointments in stride is the fuel I’ll use to both toughen up and open my heart.
Who can say they’re ready for a serious relationship? You’re only ready if you find someone who inspires you to open your heart, take risks and be fearless. And that happens over time.
Although I ultimately want marriage, I don’t expect the guys I date to know what they want right away — and I especially don’t anticipate they’re going to know whether they feel something special for me for a long time. They may use dating to develop clarity, too.
I feel vulnerable putting myself back out there, but facing my fear and challenging my beliefs is exactly what I need to move forward right now.

Yes, the human heart is fragile and it’s unfair to mislead anyone. But if we’re authentic — even if that means admitting uncertainty — it’s not misleading to discover, learn and grow in relation to others. In fact, most of us are doing these very things every day. And I have learned something from every single date I’ve been on.

So, while I’m a little bummed that I won’t be spending time getting to know more-like-it better, I’m going to add some of his amazing qualities to my list. I’m going to use having met him as evidence that great guys are out there, in this very city! And I’m going to ask the Universe to give me more of that cosmic “call and answer” dance — it will make putting myself out there all the easier.

a few thoughts on sex

Last week was a bitch, so let’s lighten things up… Is it too early in our relationship, Gentle Reader, for me to confess that my sexual proclivities are pedestrian?

Here it is: I like(d) plain old married sex. Sure, I’m what Dan Savage would call GGG, but I tend to go with what works. While I’ve had my share of bizarre encounters and enjoyed some creative and playful pleasure marathons, my taste ultimately tends toward the vanilla. I’m most likely to achieve satisfaction in the missionary or cowgirl positions.

I was asked recently if I enjoy wake-up sex. Frankly, I can’t imagine a time of day when I don’t enjoy it. I like it in the shower, up against a wall…cars are impossible, I find…if you have a swing, I definitely want a ride! Perhaps if there’s some strange element in all of this, it’s that I find it not only pleasurable and stress-relieving, but sexual fulfillment also gives me a feeling of abundance. The better my sex life, the less stress I feel about money, bills, cash flow… And it burns calories. Talk about a win-win-win!

A few other minor notes:

If forced to choose, I’d prefer a lover who ranks higher in skills/technique and desire to please than in size. (But I’d rather not choose.)
I most often wear plain cotton panties. They’re sexy on me. But if you like lingerie, buy some for me and I will happily wear it for you!
I’m a bit of a pillow princess. I’m going to lie back and enjoy this while you show off. You’ll find me quite responsive, and I’ll join in soon.
I have breasts. Show me you enjoy them. A lot.
There is no better foreplay than talking.
Foreplay is mandatory. Except when you’re such an amazing conversationalist that I’ve been dying to jump you all through dinner.
If you haven’t gone down on me, don’t expect me to go down on you. Really. You first, I insist!
What would ever make you think you don’t need to put on a condom?!
Sixty-nine never lives up to the promise. Sure, it’s fun to try, but I can’t truly enjoy receiving while simultaneously truly trying to give. Let’s take turns.
I kind of like it when you play with my feet, and I kind of love it when you thrust your tongue between my toes while simultaneously thrusting from your hips.
DO NOT apply a little saliva and aim for my rosebud the first time we’re together. (Yes, I speak from experience.)
I am a woman, not a four-year-old. There’s hair down there. Get used to it. I groom, but I don’t go Brazilian.
I have no interest in threesomes; strip clubs and porn don’t interest me (in fact, I find them somewhat exploitative, although I understand the debate goes both ways) and I don’t need an arsenal of accessories…just an attentive and giving lover.
Oh, and I’m vocal. You might want to close the windows.

Are you blushing yet? I am.

I admit it; I don’t know the rules

I’ve never been a Rules girl. Perhaps this has been the source of some of my relationships problems, perhaps I need to study up. But I am learning a thing or two.

Here’s where I’m at:

I’m not going to chase a man again. Ever. I’ll let him know I’m interested and let him take the lead. If he wants to see me, he’ll find a way.
This doesn’t mean I won’t occasionally reach out if I see something relevant to a conversation we had. I’m not an automaton.
I’m dating around, not falling easily into exclusivity. It’s already helped me gain more clarity. I expect the same from the men I date — they’d better be seeing other people! If he ultimately chooses me, I want it to have been an informed choice.
Meanwhile, I’m going to be absolutely clear about what I want. That way, if we’re not on the same page, he can opt out early and save us both some misery.
This clarity can have an added benefit: he quickly learns how I expect to be treated.

Am I on the right track? Recommendations? Resources? I’d love to know what you think.

my online dating scare

I’ve written a couple of earlier posts about online dating (here and here).

I was ambivalent about venturing online. I still had some feelings of attachment for Chi-guy, I wasn’t sure what I wanted yet, and one of the reasons I was determined to online date was to have something to write about here, on failedatforty. Based on some of the stories I’d heard from girlfriends, online dating was sure to be a content-rich endeavor. (Take, for instance, that guy who messaged me last night asking if he could be my bitch… Dang, I wish that interested me!)

Meanwhile, I’ve worked very hard to develop some clarity around my vision of life, family, the sort of work I’d like to create, and the sort of mate I’d like to attract. I’ve worked on my list to become more and more specific. And I’ve employed the Law of Attraction and meditated to open myself to energetically attracting a man with these qualities and much more. (I mean, I plan to employ my other assets and look my best, but I want the next one to be drawn to my spirit and my soul.)

Just when I was beginning to think that I was in the wrong place (i.e. free site) to meet men — in fact, a group of girls who know what I’m looking for had just told me that I was “sooo eHarmony” (really? me? isn’t that kind of a Bible-thumper site?) — I spotted a few interesting profiles. One, in particular, popped out at me because of the fellow’s sheer genuineness — and yet, there were aspects that made me question whether he was the typical [insert name of upscale-community-from-where-you’ve-met-entirely-too-many-arrogant-players here] douche.

I might have winked, we exchanged a few messages, and I took a chance and suggested that I’d be willing to meet for coffee.

Tangent: Long ago, I had a roommate who would notice an attractive man in public and exclaim, “Way to go, God!” I mention this because…

We met for coffee, and I assumed we’d have an hour or so to feel each other out, determine whether we wanted to see each other again, etc. We ended up talking for more than an hour, found much to chat about, discovered agreement in philosophy in many facets of life and seemed to enjoy each other. I found him pleasing to my eyes, yet felt no chemistry whatever (which is okay, right? …it’s even better if it builds slowly over time). He walked me to my car, gave me a warm and lengthy hug, and bid me a good day.

I got in my car and did a “Way to go, Universe! … that’s more like it!” He was the first guy I’d met (on the site) that fell within the range of my type, a combination of characteristics so unusual I wasn’t sure it existed (in one person) in this city. I could visualize going out with him again without having to convince myself to keep an open mind.

From there, I went home, worked out and rejoiced in knowing that all the effort I’d been putting in to creating was working. And now I had evidence that there are men within the range of what I’m seeking who live here. Directionally, I was getting closer to attracting what I want.

And that scared the shit out of me! Sure, I would love to meet someone really amazingly special this year (as I mentioned while discussing my vision board), but we’re only four months in to 2011 and I wasn’t sure I was ready for special — or even intriguing — yet! So whether he would become someone special or not, I needed to prepare for special… I spent the next week hitting Debbie Ford’s Spiritual Divorce harder than I had before, actually doing the exercises and working to heal, forgive and release any karmic connections that might still be holding me back.

It dawned on me that, while I had listed in detail the kind of mate I want to attract, I had failed to create a list of the qualities that I planned to bring to a partnership. So I began a list of the characteristics I want to embody to be an ideal partner to my ideal mate.

I also went back online and got real about my profile: I made it clear that my ultimate desire is marriage — a true partner and co-conspirator; I changed my ambivalent answers to some questions, such as “How long do you want your next relationship to last?” to “the rest of my life;” and more. In some ways, I feel I’m asking a lot — after all, it’s not just me, there are three of us. And the special man I will ultimately draw into my life will be a loving and engaged father to my children, as well as husband to me.

So what next? Well, I met the more-like-it guy again, enjoyed his company and looking in to his brown eyes, and I was definitely feeling a little chemistry, too. I hope to see him again. I’m not sure he knows what he’s looking for…so it’s too early to tell whether it might go anywhere. I’m also communicating with and meeting other men, learning from my interactions, getting clearer about my desires, and creating space for the possibility that the “or better” may manifest in my life…which, in this time of personal expansion, is ever-changing and allowing more.

Will this guy — or anyone I meet online — be the one? I’m going to take things day by day and focus on opening my own heart, allowing myself to feel vulnerable and soft, and living authentically, rather than try to predict the future.

See my next post on more-like-it.