100 First Dates: Embracing the joys and perils of online dating

May 20, 2015 — One month ago today, I posted my profile on JDate. Why JDate?

Despite being a nice Jewish girl from Philadelphia, I have only had one Jewish boyfriend. Granted, that relationship lasted from the time I was 10 until I graduated from college. I loved him dearly. And, he is probably the nicest person I will ever know. But when I thought about marrying him, I saw my entire life in a straight line. I knew everything that would happen. And I just couldn't do it.

So I broke both of our hearts, and moved on … to date about 15 gentile guys. All very sweet, all very sexy — including my husband, an amazing artist who turned out to be the most fantastic father for my children that I could have found.

And for the last 20 years, it has been a great ride. He's stable, successful, sweet, gentle, funny, very very cute and sexy, and he can build or fix almost anything. Plus, he makes the best bbq chicken, mows the lawn like a champ, does the laundry, and always puts the toilet seat down.

So what's the problem?

He doesn't feel things the way I do. He doesn't see things the way I do — not the big things, the ones that seem impossible to the naked eye. He also doesn't really like the same things I do (music, movies, playing hooky, etc.). But most essentially, he does not define what it means to love, or be loved, as I do.

When we had two little kids to educate, clothe, feed and water … I put what I felt, saw, liked, and wanted in my pocket. I was in "mommy mode," and that trumped "Hope mode." Those two perfect little people that I brought into the world took top billing, as I believe kids should. And this isn't news. This is the saga of many a couple who held their marriage together for the sake of their kids. I don't believe it is a bad thing to do — so long as there isn't physical or other obvious abuse going on.

There wasn't in my marriage … except for me screaming. In recent years, that happened more and more frequently. I just couldn't control my frustration. I tried everything to get my husband to see that I was unhappy, that I wanted more — more attention, more silliness, more kisses, more fun — and do something about it.

Granted, who wants to play with a screaming lunatic? But it was the only thing I could do … scream until he heard me.

He never did.

Deep down inside, I knew that when I stopped screaming — that the marriage would be over; which is why I kept screaming for so many years. But then, one day, I decided I couldn't scream any louder — or anymore. So I stopped. I found a new city to live in, an office to rent, a house to buy. And on Nov. 1, I moved out of my old life, and into my new one.

For months, I climbed into my tiny tub and surrounded myself with candlelight; I painted my new house purple and filled it with Buddhas and crystals; and I drank enough chardonnay and cucumber martinis to pickle it. Six months later, I decided that I had spent enough time washing away my sorrow … and I decided to open an account on JDate.

Why JDate? Chemistry.com (which uses the questionnaire written by my friend Helen Fisher, who I adore) was a close second as my first choice. But I figured I'd give the Jewish guys a shot. Maybe I made a mistake in shutting them out all those decades ago?

Guess what my online handle is.

And guess what I have learned in the last month: Thankfully, I have found that I am still interesting to men.

Ladies, if you are reading this and have felt the same thing, you know what I mean. While there is a part of you that sorta kinda thinks you are still appealing to the opposite sex, you never know until you put yourself out there.

And I have. And it has been … fun. Honestly. No, not every experience has been fantastic — like the creepy dude who I tried to let down easy and in response told me I was "one bizarre chic." It's hard to see why he's still single. Or the nice looking communications attorney who wanted my number to text me, but actually had nothing to say. Honestly … nothing.

But most of my encounters have been quite lovely — like the older gentlemen who kindly told me to take my real name off my profile. Thank you, sir!

I also have had two in-person dates, both with very nice Jewish men. One told me I was a "treasure" (which sounded much less like a smarmy pick-up line when he said it in person). The other reminds me of my first boyfriend (good news for him, right?) I hope they will become good friends — because that's where love starts. And my love life is still too complicated to jump into a new relationship. The men who are cool with that get to come to my party.

So here's my plan: From this day forward, I am going to have 100 First Emails / Dates to test the waters. I want to explore who I am, and what I need, without trying to take care of anyone else. And this time around, I'm looking for someone who makes me really happy — who wants to play, kiss, hug, travel, laugh, walk on the beach … all that jazz.

Here's to sparking the fire … Hope

Lighting my Celestial Fire

May 8, 2015 — George Washington wrote, "Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called conscience." That quote is printed the mousepad that I use every day. I ponder it regularly.

What the heck is Washington really trying to say?

To me, Celestial Fire is the stars burning bright in the night sky. The ones that sparkle and glimmer so incandescently that you can see them from earth — at least when all that light isn't absorbed by the noise of a city. I think Washington's quote encourages us to bring the stars inside, where we swallow them whole to reflect back the truth that only our conscience fully appreciates. That firey blast of internal damnation is powerful, indeed.

Granted, the President wrote this adage at a time when war was in the air, and dramatic change and revolution surrounded him. I can relate.

I turn 51 in two months from today. This has been a remarkable year in my life — the year I celebrated my 20th anniversary (alone), the year my business hit the revenue level I'd been working toward since 2008, and the year my kids were old enough (and mature enough) for me to take my life back.

Today, as I start this blog, I embark on the next leg of my journey. I plan to spend the entire next year figuring out what I want from the next decades of my life.

• As I leave my husband … I'm determined to gently untie this marriage, rather than cut it apart. If I keep love in my heart, I think it's possible. I hope so. 
• As I move to Richmond … I feel a pure joy that I only felt when my first child was born; again, I feel a sense of peacefulness, playfulness, and a love that is full of potential. 
• As I watch my two children enter adulthood … I feel a sense pride and pleasure I had no idea I'd embrace with such gusto. 
• And, as I watch as my business grows in new directions … I am reminded again that it is a reflection of who I am, where I'm going, what I dream of … and how much I love watching it unfold. 

What will become of my belief system, my understanding of life, my Inkandescent self … and my heart?

Celestial Fire, light my way … Hope

Next: 

• 100 First Emails: Embracing the joys and perils of online dating
• Leaving Home and Hunting Squirrels: My life as seen from the branch of an oak tree
• When did I stop loving you: Was it before or after you stopped loving me?
• The meaning of my life after 50: How that morning at the beach changed everything
• What it means to be brave: And why my definition is probably different than yours
• Why do so many women hate sex: Is that actually freaking possible?
• How can I help my mother not be so insane: The drama of daughter trying to do good, and stay sane herself
• What does it mean to love someone: Sometimes it means to let go, right?
• Mommy Uppy: How the meaning of picking up my kids has changed in the last 20 years
• Seeing yourself: Why being on TV is such a mind f-ck
• Taming the shrew: Why my hair is like a client — always needing something — and how I came to embrace my wild mane
• Doing the right thing: Why it's time for me to go

And more … stay tuned!