A little advice . . .

The wine bar is unusually crowded. I spot the only free stool at the end of the bar and ask the guy sitting next to it if it’s available. He gives an affirmative nod, and makes room for me. I order a glass of wine and we strike up a conversation. Before long, he mentions his wife. There is a subtlety to this gesture that reveals both contentment and respect. I hadn’t considered anything more than a friendly chat, still I appreciate his transparency. For the next half hour, we talk about Napa wineries, California politics and eventually, travel. Then he announces that he’s gotta run, dinner plans. I must have told him I was single because when he says goodbye, he smiles and adds, “You’re a cool person. I enjoyed talking with you. If I wasn’t a happily married guy, I’d ask you out.”

I laugh, and ask the usual followup question, “Have any single friends over sixty?”

Then it’s his turn to laugh, “I wish I did.”

Alone again, I am relieved that his question didn’t head down the usual path. More often I am asked, “How can it be that you are single?”  What seems like a compliment takes a a sudden turn when the person asking gives me a quizzical look and asks again, “So, why are you still single? What’s wrong with you?” Amused by their own joke, they laugh, and add, “I’m kidding. Really, I’m kidding.”

Are they kidding?

I usually give a weak laugh and say nothing. The term broken picker comes to mind. After all, I have been told, more than once, that I do indeed have a broken picker. Maybe that’s the response I should give, “Yes. There is something wrong with me. I have what’s called a ‘broken picker’.” I could use air quotes and over-articulate the words for dramatic effect.

Even when this term isn’t directed at me, I cringe. Sure, I’ve made some bad choices, but haven’t we all? With 41% of first marriages, 60% of second marriages and 73% of third marriages ending in divorce, it seems there are enough broken pickers out there to start a twelve-step program.

Clearly, I’ve overthought the broken picker theory. I’m not sure it applies to me, or if it’s even a thing. In my gut I knew when I was choosing the wrong person, the wrong relationship. And I did it anyway. My reasons varied, sometimes I was driven by loneliness.  More often hope got in the way of good sense. I thought I could love a guy into loving me. I didn’t have a broken picker, I had a faulty heart, one that believed love was bestowed, or earned.

I sip my wine and remember years ago recounting a breakup to a woman I barely knew. She advised, “You need to learn to be alone. That’s your problem. You don’t know how to be alone.”  

Seriously? I absolutely knew how to be alone, I had mastered aloneness. A more accurate statement might have been that I sucked at relationships. I’m not convinced that years of enduring loneliness make a person a better partner.

When I exhausted the advice of friends and strangers, I turned to self-help gurus who proclaimed a woman must be her best self to meet the best guy. To a certain degree we all want to put our best foot forward. However, I’ve done my own field work observations, and the theory doesn’t hold up in real life. I’ve seen people start out as dopey teenagers and grow old and wonderful together. Some folks leave decades long marriages to create the marriage they always wanted with someone new. Others in the middle of personal crisis find the loves of their lives. If you want love in your life, don’t wait for perfection. You’ll never find it in yourself or anyone else.

So, here is my sage and unprofessional advice (If you are happily coupled, feel free to quote me when supporting your single friends.)

First – Don’t look back. You’re not going that way – these aren’t my words, but I love them and repeat them whenever I find myself dwelling in past regret.

This next part is important.

Your picker, or your heart, may be faulty. Perhaps you failed at a previous partnership, or you never learned the lessons of being alone. Maybe you didn’t go to therapy or read a self-help book. Or, it’s possible there are a pile of dusty relationship skeletons in your closet.

Here’s the thing – You can be flawed and imperfect AND somebody out there will think you are a gem exactly as you are.

If you don’t believe me, try this. Close your eyes and picture all the beautiful people you love, and then really, really think about all the ways and reasons they love you right back.   

See what I mean?

Cin Cin!

Xoc