Getting lost in a dream man
There’s the agent, the athlete, the vegan lawyer with three cats, the gluten- free tech start- up guy, the promoter, the hot German, the writer and a few shameless guys who asked me out because they believed I could help their careers. Someof them lasted weeks, others months, but none of them lasted. That’s the thing about dating in a city driven by the industry— the only things men take seriously are themselves and their careers.
Nonetheless, I started 2014with the goal of finding a man. Having checked off the “career” and “good friends” boxes, I finally felt ready to commit to a relationship. Oneday, my father texted to say he had given my number to the son of a friend from our home state of Connecticut. Mypotential date was an MBA candidate working at a tech start- up in Santa Monica, and I immediately assumed he would be like every other Dave Cook setup: a safe and socially awkward computer nerd who would inevitably treatme like a princess.
A week or two went by. Then one day I got a text froman unknown number with a Connecticut area code. It was my safe and nerdy dad setup. He proposed that we grab a drink one night that week. I responded coolly, saying that I had plans every night— which was true— but suggested that he might want to join me and mybest friend that evening to watch “Captain America” at the Marina dine-in movie theater.
I thought my strategy was brilliant. Mybest friend is a guy. I had a male buffer to soften the awkwardness should the blind date go awry. The dad setup accepted my third-wheel offer and suggested I check him out on Facebook.
Iwas floored to seemy dream manon the screen in front of me. Why had I been such an idiot, insisting that my friend tag along?
That night at themovies, I kept the conversation flowing among the three of us while maintaining a ladylike demeanor. I enjoyed “Captain America,” laughing and gasping at the appropriate moments while casually sipping a beer— the same beer my date ordered. After themovie, we hugged and went our separate ways but made plans to hang out that weekend.
I stayed up all night thinking about him. I hadn’t done this since high school. All Iwanted to dowas make him likeme.
Our second datewas fun. We had a couple of drinks, talked about our Connecticut high school experiences, played the name game, talked about world travel. Then he brought up marriage and children. Thatwas the next thing hewanted to cross off. Hewas determined to find a wife, move back to Connecticut and start a family. Hehated L. A. and had no desire to stay here past the end of the year.
I told him Iwanted the same thing.
Iwas disgusted by hearing that lie comeout of my mouth but wanted so badly to be liked that I apparently was willing to say or do whatever would elicit the most positive response.
Onour third date, I thought I would showoff by taking him to a performance by one of the bands I manage. He told me he didn’t really “like” music and spent the entire time being star- struck. I spent the entire time downplaying how passionate I am about music andwhat I do.
Onour fourth date, I invited him to a party Iwas throwing with a friend. Anatural social butterfly, I spent the entire night with him on my arm talking to each and every person. At some point, he madea comment about howhe didn’t like that I had so many guy friends and he left. I started to feel bad about myself: me, the pretty girl with the good job and great friends.
We saw each other a fewmore times. On each date, I made sure to dress the part of a perfect Connecticut housewife: pearls, A- line dresses, curled hair. I always felt extremely anxious when Iwas around him but assumed itwas because I liked him somuch.
Over the course of amonth with him, I had gone from loving my city, myjob and myself to feeling like none of itwas good enough and all of it needed to change in order to get this man to love me. Iwas losing myself. When he left for a three- week business trip, I hit awall. But his absence cameat the perfect time because it gave me the space to realize that Iwas forcing something that wasn’t meant to be. This man wasn’t my life partner; we had nothing in common except a shared home state and good genes.
I dove back intomy career and started writing more. I spent more time with friends. In focusing on the positives inmy life, it opened the door for positive people and situations.
I continue to date and date a lot. I’ve becomemore aware of what Iwill and will not put up with in a relationship. And nothing in my plans calls for amove to Connecticut. I’m completely myself and at home in Venice Beach. Cookworks in music and entertainment marketing. L. A. Affairs chronicles dating and romance in contemporary Southern-California. Past columns and submission guidelines are at latimes. com/ laaffairs. If you have comments or a true story to tell, write us at home@ latimes. com.