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Feb 8

Settling for Mr. Good Enough isn’t enough


Maybe it’s the word.

Settle.

A lot of my blogging friends like Dad’s House and Single Mom Seeking are Facebook fans of “Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough” by
Lori Gottlieb, and I’ve been asked to fan it, too.

Feeling a little like Groucho Marx — I’d never join a club that would have me as a member
I never join or sign anything until I know what it’s about. I haven’t read the book yet, but I read Lori’s article in the Atlantic a few years ago, which lead to the book. And, Lori is right — women (or men) who go around with the fairy-tale idea that they’ll find a “perfect” partner are, well, living in a fairy tale — one that won’t end happily-ever-after.

I wish all single moms by choice (which she is) would read what she says about raising a baby by yourself while working and trying to find love. Most single moms by choice I know have teens now. They’re tired and stressed and still single. And they cry a lot.

If you think dating is hard as a single person, just try doing it with kids, especially if you’re a woman. More women are interested in being stepmommy to  someone else’s kids than men are, and I don’t blame the guys. The best thing choice moms have going for them over divorced moms is that at least there isn’t an ex to deal with!

I don’t disagree entirely with what Lori says:

“Look for the important qualities in a partner, and let go of the stuff that won’t matter five, 10 or 20 years down the line, when you’re more concerned about child care and contented companionship than you are about height or hairlines.”

That’s all well and good, with one problem (as most divorcees know all too well) — we never really know for sure what will happen five, 10 or 20 years down the line. It isn’t enough to find a “good enough” guy; it’s all the hard stuff of married life after that. Although a lot of marriages break up over the three As — affairs, abuse, addictions — a lot fall apart under the weight of quirks (the ones we find so endearing when we first meet) that cumulatively start to drive us crazy. And all of us have them, Adonises as well as nice guys.

Marrying Mr. Good Enough doesn’t guarantee happiness or companionship.

All settling for Mr. Good Enough gets you is a husband; it does not necessarily get you a long, happy marriage.

If we’re heading to divorce court anyway (as a good percentage of marriages do), why shouldn’t we at least start off having wild hanging-off-the-chandelier sex with a drop-dead gorgeous hunk? Or, marry someone for money, who’s going to shower us in diamonds and Louboutins and trips to Bora Bora and Paris? Those sorts of marriages might work out because at least each party knows exactly what he or she’s in it for.

Which is more than most of us can say.

It isn’t enough to “settle” with someone who has 50, 60, 70, 80 percent of what we’re looking for; it’s also the expectations we place on him once we walk down the aisle and say our I dos.

I married for love. Did I expect to be divorced in my 40s? Hell no! And, when I met Rob, I wasn’t even all that attracted to him. He wooed me and then I started to fall for him. So when he cheated on me X-number of years later, I thought: “WTF? I wasn’t even all that attracted to you in the first place; if anyone should have cheated, it should have been me!”

So I and many of my friends married our “good-enough guy,” the one Lori says she wants to be with this Valentine’s, and, here we are, divorced and not one of us remarried.

Sure, I know what she’s getting at — be realistic about what’s truly important. I agree, but how do we know that when we’re in our 20s or 30s? There’s no way to, even though I sure thought I did. As she admits, now that she’s older, she’s so much wiser. Well, doh. But if someone tried to tell her that back then, well … good luck.

“Ultimately, what most of us are looking for isn’t the guy who keeps us so intoxicatingly distracted that we’re tingling in anticipation of his every phone call. It’s the guy we feel completely comfortable with, the guy who “gets us,” hugs us at our parents’ funerals, laughs with us, reminds us to go to the doctor, fixes the toilet, has our backs and eventually sets his dentures on the counter next to ours.”

Right. And he still might have a midlife crisis and trade you in for a Corvette and a blonde.

So, if settling — not going for, as Gottleib says, “an Adonis with the humor of Jon Stewart and the bank account of Bill Gates” — doesn’t necessarily lead to happily-ever-after either, what does?

So glad you asked.

You need to find a guy with whom you can be open and honest and communicate well and genuinely like (and vice versa). And — this one’s a biggie — you have to be on the same page about having and raising kids.

Then work, work, work on the marriage. At least you’ll have a fighting chance.

Oh yeah; guys like that can just as easily be short, overweight and bald as they can be a beautiful mix of Stewart, Gates and Adonis.

  • Is Lori Gottlieb right about settling for Mr. (or Ms.) Good Enough?
  • Do you think marrying a good enough person makes the marriage more likely to last?

Photo © Steffbiene – Fotolia.com

Feb 5

I don’t (heart) Valentine’s

Posted on Friday, February 5, 2010 in dating, Honesty, love, Relationships, Singles

“So, Valentine’s is coming up,” I reminded Sean the other morning as I snuggled into his warm, creamy body.

There was a silence so deafening it hurt.  
And then he stiffened, and not where I wanted him to, either.

“Uh, so …”

I thought I’d help get him out of his misery — eventually. First, I wanted to play with him.

“I know what I want you to get me.”

“Uh …”

“A vajacial.”

“Sure you don’t you have one already?
Have you looked in your closet?”

Very funny, that guy.

“It’s a facial. For my vagina. Get it — vaj-acial. Sara told me a spa in The City is offering it.”

“No kidding. I’ve been giving vaginas facials for years. For free, too.”

I burst out laughing.

Of course I don’t want a vajacial — it’s bad enough with people poking and prodding around for the waxings. And, of course, I don’t want a thing for Valentine’s Day.

As I’ve said before, Valentine’s Day is for amateurs, like New Year’s Eve. Valentine’s Day causes more disappointments and anxiety than any other day. And, for what? A store-bought card, some chocolate, a few roses and a nice dinner? And a forced confession of love?

Thanks, but no thanks.

Perhaps I’m morbid but I’m always thinking — what if I die before Valentine’s? Does that mean Sean and my kid will live the rest of their lives thinking I didn’t love them? I hope not; I tell them every day. Just in case. Or, in a more Buddhist sense, all we really have is now.

But, OK — I know I may be in the minority about this. Just because I don’t (heart) V-day doesn’t mean everyone else doesn’t.

So, we’re Day 8 and counting.

  • What’s the best gift to give on V-day?
  • What’s the best gift you got? Gave?
  • And, really — a vajacial?!?

Photo © Andrius Grigaliunas – Fotolia.com

Feb 3

Yes, guys, size does matter

Posted on Wednesday, February 3, 2010 in dating, Honesty, Relationships, Self image, Singles

Sara and I were at the coffee shop, watching the parade of men in Lycra-bike shorts cycle by, when a 30ish couple walking past arm in arm caught our eye.

Not just because they were attractive, but they were lopsided; she had a good three inches on him, and she was in flats.

“Could you do that?” Sara asked me.   

“Wear flats? Nah, I hate them.”

No silly! Date a short guy.”

“I have dated short guys.”

“And?”

“And … they’re short.”

“Well, doh. I mean, was it awkward?”

I immediately flashed back to a Match date I had a few years ago. He looked adorable in his pictures; he was quite a bit younger but he wrote me the sweetest e-mail. This was back in the newly post-divorce days when I was easily flattered by a younger man paying me any attention. Then I looked at his height on his profile — 5 foot 7. Two inches? I (gently) fended him
off for a while — I’m too old for you! — but he was (gently) persistent.

So, we finally agreed to meet (I wore my lowest heels, a pair of practical pumps; ugh!). I walked into the restaurant and he was already there, seated. Then he got up to hug me hello; 5 foot 7 my ass! He was maybe — maybe — 5 foot 6. On a good day.

He barely made it to my chest, and while that may or may not be a bad thing, there isn’t much there to get excited about. I have other body parts that I tend to play up more.

I tried to stay focused, but the whole time we were together, there was a little voice inside my head: No f@#king way! Not very kind, I know, but at least I was being honest (just as I am about dating fat guys).

Still, I’ve gone out with guys who were a tad shorter than I am, or around my height, and to answer Sara, yes, it was somewhat awkward. Not in bed, mind you, which can be very forgiving of such things. But I’m a woman who loves her stilettos, and it feels weird if I’m towering over a guy. There’s something about being in the arms of a man who’s taller than I am that feels comforting, and that makes me feel more feminine.

So, am I a heightist?

Yes, and I’m not alone; lots of women are heightists.

But, I’m an equal opportunity heightist — I wouldn’t want to date a Yao Ming, either (even though research has shown that tall people are smarter).

However, I did once purposely seek out a tall guy on Match — but not for his, uh,  intelligence. It was about the same time in my life as Mr. Short Guy; I was newly divorced, still trying to figure things out and looking for something “casual” — you can read into that what you want. And, there he was, all hunky 6-foot-8 1/2 inches of him. I figured, well, all things being equal …

  • Does a person’s height matter to you?
  • How much taller/shorter does he/she have to be?
  • Is it a total deal-breaker?

Photo © olly – Fotolia.com