My friend Scott (who you may have seen reading fake books on the subway in NYC with titles like “Ass Eating for Beginners” and “Slut Shaming Your Baby”) hosts a hilarious live talk show called Running Late out in NYC and he is doing some shows in LA graciously invited me to be a guest tonight! I’ll be sharing a green room with these awesome people and I’m so excited! Go to runninglateshow.com for tickets!
I met Tyler on Bumble right after I moved to Los Angeles. We decided to meet at this cool spot in Studio City that neither of us had ever been to. He walked in and I realized he was at least a foot taller than I am and much cuter in person. Blonde hair, blue eyes, adorable smile and a little bit of scruff. Thin and almost a little nerdy, but incredibly well dressed. We hit it off immediately. A drink turned into drinks, which turned into dinner, which turned into “one more drink” at his place. Well. I’m not lying when I said it was only one more drink, but that’s only because we couldn’t make it too much longer without needing to take each other’s clothes off.
“But you should never fuck on the first date if you want him to respect you!”
What-fucking-ever. The sex was amazing. He was most definitely a giver and was adventurous. Guys with a nerdy side are almost always so much fun in bed, and Tyler was no exception. He was also really sweet and kind. I spent the night and he was nothing short of courteous and warm in the morning and said he’d love to see me again. I wasn’t really sure if I was interested in actual dating or if I just wanted to keep him around for the great sex and free dinners, but either way I was definitely into him.
We continued to see each other I’d say 4 or 5 more times, so at this point I’m thinking “oh shit is this going somewhere?” Talking daily, seeing each other weekly, and I’d met a couple of his friends. Was I actually dating Tyler? Was I going to be like “hey guys this is my boyfriend Tyler” in a few months? Was I even interested in that? I was starting to think that maybe I was. Until, clearly, Tyler wasn’t.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
OF COURSE. Of fucking course, Tyler. Just out of nowhere, randomly, he decided he wasn’t really feeling it anymore. Look. I’m not an idiot, nor am I overly sensitive, so just tell me what’s up. Did you meet someone else? Did I do something that was a turn off? Did you decide “maybe my soulmate isn’t a girl I fucked within 5 hours of meeting?” What the hell was it???
Tyler assured me it was nothing I did, and that he thinks I’m great, but that he just wasn’t really interested in dating anymore. I heard from him maybe once or twice after that, just to say hello or because one of us saw something that reminded us of one another, but that’s about it. I’ll never really know if Tyler was full of shit or if he just loses interest as quickly as I usually do, but honestly I’m mostly just bummed about not getting to have sex with him anymore.
Thank goodness I’ve got a healthy roster.
There is something pretty remarkable that happens to you when you turn 30. Or at least it did to me. I suddenly realized that I could demand more from my life and I didn’t have to do anything that didn’t add value to my life if I didn’t want to. So I went after a career I wanted, got rid of “friends” who really did nothing but bring me down, exited a marriage that was not fulfilling for either of us, and moved from my hometown of Austin, Texas to Los Angeles, California to finally live my life on my terms.
My 30s are going to kick ass.
My 20s were hard. The worst, actually. My parents divorced, I was involved in a mentally (and occasionally physically) abusive relationship, my father got sick and ultimately passed away when I was 25. I married an incredibly kind man who, as it turns out, wanted completely different things in life from me and we were forced to disappoint ourselves and our families by ending our marriage–a marriage we had no business entering into in the first place.
There had to be more for me.
After my divorce I felt like shit, for lack of a more descriptive phrase. My ex husband had completely withdrawn from me sexually over the last couple years of our relationship, causing my already intense body issues to go into overdrive and I was convinced I was so unattractive and damaged that no man would ever want me again. Then I got on tinder.
Keep in mind, I have never really dated in my adult life. I had my slutty college years and then a couple of serious relationships that pretty much covered my entire 20s. I had no idea how to just date. Or what men were looking for. Or what the hell a “fuckboy” was. But as I began to meet men and go on dates I realized that for once I was finally comfortable in who I was as a person, and it finally felt okay to admit that I love sex. Women are taught that if they sleep with anyone other than a man they are in love with then they’re a slut, a whore, a hoe…whatever you want to call it. Men are *never* taught this. Bullshit, right?
As I was going on all these dates and meeting these men, and essentially dating like a man, I thought, what if I can help to change that narrative? I’ve always been known as having a dark sense of humor and always making people laugh. I loved to tell jokes on twitter and often posted them to Instagram, and my friends and family would laugh and share them. So why not take that and send a message, that women can be sexually confident and adventurous, that it’s okay for a woman to date the way men are allowed to. That it’s okay to never want a husband or a family, to be independent, to enjoy men but not need them. And that it’s okay to laugh at yourself and not take life so fucking seriously all the time.
And then I moved to Los Angeles, fired up my tinder and bumble, and got to swiping.