I was one of those painfully shy kids who would hide behind my mom’s legs when someone spoke to me. Thankfully, I’m a recovering wallflower; I’ve shed that shy label once and for all.
Or so I thought.
I was recently challenged to pay attention to how I make eye contact. Apparently the slew of dating sites have it wrong. They’d like us to put all our energy into crafting a perfect profile and posting photos that show “I look good in jeans AND in heels!!” when the energy we send with our eyes and our smile is the true secret to attraction.
Chris was a very sweet guy, and although he wasn’t exactly my type, I was enjoying our conversation over lunch at a Mexican restaurant. When our plates were cleared, he surprised me by reaching over the table and taking my hand. Hmm…I’d never had this happen on a first date, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, so I went with it. We made a second date, and when I got in Chris’ car, he immediately reached for my hand.
“He was sitting in a crowded bar, during a Bulls game, reading the Economist by the light of a cigar machine.”
That’s how Kate describes the first time she met her husband. Priceless, huh? It rings like the first line of a hard-boiled detective novel.
She knew he was the one because she felt so completely herself around him. Not surprising, since he was also being himself that night in the bar.
My blind date with Alex started out promising. We met at the Field Museum with plans to see the World’s Fair exhibit. But forget the exhibit. I was looking at him, because he was cute.
Unfortunately, after a short stroll through the gallery, Alex’s phone started buzzing. And he answered it. Twice.
Now if he had been a brain surgeon or even a plumber, I could maybe understand that he had to take this call! But he owned a software company, and there was no look of panic that someone’s hard drive was melting down. There was no explanation at all. And no apology.
Try this love elixir this month to chase away colds — no more passing germs to your sweetie!
When I was working as an intuitive healer at a spa in Chicago, most of the people who came in wanted angel card readings. I began each session by asking “What area of your life would you most like to see improved? Where do you need some clarity?”
Even when the client answered ‘career’ or ‘finances,’ the cards often pointed toward romantic relationships. I love that about oracle cards — they speak to what’s on our hearts, whether we admit it or not. Digging further, I’d discover that the real question was: will I be loved?
Often there was a sheepishness or hesitancy around admitting this most basic, burning doubt and desire.
My smile on Christian Mingle caught his attention. His profile intrigued me.
The next few weeks were filled with 3-hour phone conversations between Alabama and Tennessee, and several days of in-person time, but I was determined not to fall for Terry quickly. I continuously critiqued everything he said – emotionally, intellectually, spiritually, and even humorously. Yet our commonalities began to draw me in and my emotional wall began to crumble.
Confused, one evening I raised my arms and prayed out loud – simply, plaintively, “God, I need help! I don’t know what to do!”
When I declared that February’s theme would be LOVE, it was with an ‘oh won’t this be fun?’ attitude. After all, a more universal or more important topic doesn’t exist. There’s so much to write about!
Yikes. Now that it’s time to pin those those warm, wispy feelings to the page, my excitement has turned to fear. What is there to say that hasn’t been said? And what do I know about anything? I sit down to write and my palms turn sweaty. I need to go shower, get dressed, find a new hairstyle. I need to make myself better before I can venture out on the internet.
Hmmm…my date with the blank page is feeling a lot like, well, a date. How quickly the rosy glow of love and attraction is overshadowed by resistance and doubt.