Finding myself while fostering
dating in nyc: part one
Welcome to a series on dating again after five years of being single. You can read the prologue here.
A few years ago I decided that I should separate my personal identity from the project I was developing, Heartability. I told myself this was important because I didn’t want work to become my whole life. So, to save my self, I developed two business plans — one for the game and one for my career. I wrote two newsletters — one for the business and one for me. I managed two social media accounts — and neither was ever consistent.
I slowly and consciously built up a wall in my mind that split my identity in half. On one half, I felt connected to a clear philosophy that trusts life is a long and winding path, and on the other half I felt completely lost. I couldn’t reconcile this contradiction, so instead I abandoned the part of myself that didn’t make sense.
I didn’t realize this happened until I met someone last fall. He made me feel like my old self on the inside, but I didn’t recognize myself in my attempt to connect. I felt distant and cold. I went home after he told me he didn’t want to see me anymore and reread all of my journals like a detective looking for clues but the answer was hidden in between the entries, in what was omitted.
LITTLE BOXES MADE OF TICKY TACKY
It happened slowly. I stopped crying into my journal every night and then stopped journaling at all, because all I had to share were business updates. I was even bored of myself. Unless there was something horrible in the news, I couldn’t seem to feel anything. I wasn’t even really lonely anymore, but there was a growing awareness that I was technically alone, working on my project, all of the time.
My mom was always a great compartmentalizer. I remember talking about it with my first therapist because it made me think that everything was fake (yes, The Truman Show affected me deeply). I’m the kind of person whose thoughts are written all over their face. I can’t help it when I roll my eyes or snarl my nose. I could never understand where her emotions went, how someone could just turn them off in a second. But now it feels familiar.
I redownloaded Tinder to break the cycle of isolation but after leaving a few matches on read I realized that maybe I didn’t really know what I was looking for. I wasn’t ready to give up my solitude for someone to just fill the empty space.
ADOPT ME
I started thinking about what I really even want in a partner, which, before now, has really just been vibes. The more I thought about who I gravitate towards in a room or a party, I realized that, ideally, it’s a dog. Dogs just listen, and they always kiss me back. I figured that actually landing myself a date would probably take a while. So I signed up to become a dog foster at the closest shelter.
The dog came with a bright blue bib with the words “adopt me” across the sides that turns her into a walking advertisement for a new home. Turns out it also works great for attracting conversation. I’ve talked to more people in my neighborhood in the last month than I have in the two years I have lived here. No one has asked me on a date, but it’s a start.
It feels like a long series of mistakes that led me here, but it also feels like I am exactly where I need to be. Next Saturday, after six weeks together, my foster Baby will move on to her next home. I guess we will see who I meet next…