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I’ve heard some really horrible break-up stories in my day. One of the worst was when my friend got dumped after her boyfriend went away for a vacation. During the period of one week he had met a new girl, brought her home, and moved her in. Oh the heart ache she must have felt. It truly was a horrible way for him to end things. But I remember this particular break-up story because I remember how well she handled it. She was strong, mature, and had no urge to destroy him or his new girl. How did she do it? Maybe she cried every time she was alone or maybe (hopefully) she consumed high levels of alcohol so that she could drown her sorrows away. I knew this girl well and the bottom line was she just got over him, moved on, and never looked back.

I am the polar opposite. My worst break-up ever was with someone I dated for about 8 months. I was 28 he was 30 and we were in love. Things moved pretty quickly and I knew, just knew, he was the one. He was about to be a lawyer, an Italian like me, and we were basically compatible.

So how did he break up with me? The last normal conversation I had with him was amazing. We had agreed to move in together and finally start our lives. Oh my god this was it!! We would live together, get married, have babies, have more babies, renew our vows… and…. um…. yeah, all that other crap. God help me.

Click to continue reading Getting Over the Worst Break-Up



For me, dating was never easy. Although I considered myself mostly extraverted, I was never bold enough to actually approach a random guy. When I was in my early twenties I lived in a small college town. My only real option for meeting new men was out at a bar or through work. I worked at the local college surrounded by women and guys too young to buy beer. And bars? First of all, I’ve never been a big drinker. And most importantly, I could never really take a guy seriously when he’s mostly drunk and probably snuck into the bar using a fake ID.

During my mid-twenties I made a huge move and relocated to New York City. I thought for sure that living in the big city, my dating life would be ignited. Man was I wrong. Now, I do consider myself an attractive woman, but come to find out the ratio of attractive women to men in NYC is quite ridiculous, one hundred to one I think. So I lived there for a year, sucked it up and went to bars, and went on a total of three dates. Three dates. One was with some accountant who was generally nice, but not my type. The other two dates were with a hair dresser who worked on the set of Sex and the City named Sasha (yes, his name was Sasha). Let’s just say that even the idea of possibly meeting Sarah Jessica Parker wasn’t enough to make me stand this guy for another second.

Click to continue reading How Online Dating Saved My Life


It’s that time of year again and this year, Hubby and I are solo in a new city. This is the first year that either of us have not spent the holidays with our families. We finally made the tough decision to try and save some money and have a “romantic” Christmas together.

Only a few years ago, I considered myself alone for the holidays. Actually, many years in a row it always seemed that whatever relationship I was in ended right before the season. “Oh great, alone for Christmas again,” I would say. The worst thing of course was going to see the family and having to hear that dreaded question: “So, dating anyone?” UGH. I wanted to punch that person regardless of whether we had the same last name or not. The first few years that question made me so uncomfortable that I would lie and say, “yes.” Maybe I would make someone up or maybe I would extend my previous relationship and just pretend we never broke up. Either way it made me feel slightly better. If you are in that phase of your life, hey, there’s nothing wrong with a little white lie. Just make sure you are prepared to answer any follow-up questions.

Click to continue reading Are You Really Alone for the Holidays?


I have to admit that at one point in my life I snubbed the “nice guy”. I was young, immature, and not sure what I really wanted. I actually said to my girlfriends “I don’t know, he’s just too nice”. What did that mean exactly? If I try to analyze it maybe I believed that the guy who acted tough, arrogant, and selfish would in the long run be a better mate. Or maybe I thought that all the attention I received from the nice guy was a sign of weakness or desperation, and I certainly didn’t want to be with someone weak or desperate. So I continued to date self-centered men, and lost every time. This was the guy that showed some interest but really kept you guessing most of the time. It was the guy who waited a week to call you (if he called at all). The guy who made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. I hate that guy.

I have a good friend who is very aware he is a “nice guy”. When he is interested in a woman, he goes out of his way to show his interest. I remember trying to give him some advice a few times saying “don’t be so anxious, keep her guessing, women need a little challenge”. He always agreed with me but could never pull it off, that’s just not who he was. Why would he pretend to be aloof when all he wanted to do was spend time with these women and show them who he really was? We used to debate about “playing the game”. I used to say “yes, play” (ironically I was getting played and hated it). And he used to argue that he didn’t want games. He wanted the real thing and where the heck was she already? Ah, the nice guy.

Click to continue reading Why Nice Guys Shouldn’t Finish Last

Love and Sex

It took me a long time to figure this out, but when I did it was quite liberating.  During my dating years I became obsessed with a jerk.  He had none of the qualities I wanted in a man, but I think that’s what attracted me to him.  He was the quintessential “bad boy” and I was intrigued. We dated officially for only about four months, but he stayed in my life for over three years.  Sure I had boyfriends here and there during that time, but it was always him I went back to.  I hate to say it, but he was my “booty call” and I was his.  But, for most women, the booty call can be so misinterpreted.  Sex, in general, can be so misinterpreted.  I thought for sure that when he text messaged me at 3am it was because he still cared about me and maybe even missed me!  Oh how foolish I was back then.  I think the part of my brain that determined reality from fantasy hadn’t quite developed yet.  Or maybe deep down I really knew that he only wanted to have some fun, but I allowed it anyway because I felt that any time with him was worth it.

Click to continue reading Why Women Confuse Sex for Love