Whereas some girls want a tall guy, a sugar mama, a successful businessperson, a foreign accent, or a physical type, I’m less picky about that, as long as I get constant contact. Lest that sound completely, rather than just a little, narcissistic, I’m also looking for someone sexy and smart who has their life together.
The thing that turns me off the most is when I sense, or am told, my lover’s attention is waning, whether that means a longer time in between email replies, or me having to be the one to make all the plans. Without at least some attention being paid to me, I start to feel like I’m pushing myself on them, which is a very icky feeling.
At the same time, if I’m dating someone, I will not only follow them on every social networking site on which I can find them, I will studiously Google them and read everything they’ve written, that’s been written about them, and watch all their videos. I’ll find out everything I can about them, not in a stalker-y way, but because I want to get to know them.
The great thing about attention is that it’s free and, hopefully, easy. I’m not expecting them to hang on my every word and parrot them back to me, or remember every detail I share. I also don’t expect them to follow me online, and in some ways would prefer they didn’t. I do want someone I can share the little things that wind up making or breaking my day.
When I was in back-to-back long distance relationships, we missed out on seeing each other in person, spending quiet moments holding hands or making out, or curling up next to each other sleeping. Yet what we lacked in physical contact, we made up for with hours-long phone calls and daily check-ins. That’s what’s missing in my life, and to me sleeping with someone without knowing the basic ups and downs of their life feels like the glass is more than half empty.
Sex then has to do so much more than bring us physical enjoyment. It has to be the glue that keeps us together when a week’s gone by without anything more than observing each other’s status updates, and that’s a lot to ask sex to do.
I have dated and slept with many accomplished people?a Macarthur Genius grant awardee, an Emmy winner, authors, actors?and while their talents are part of what drew me to them, I can’t date a trophy or diploma. I want to date a real person, warts and all, someone who shares as much of their emotional self as I do. Bottom line, we have to both be interested in each other’s lives, otherwise the precarious balancing act of dating is lopsided.
I don’t have a checklist of X calls and Y emails per day. It’s more that I want to feel special and cared about in the moments when we’re not physically together. Especially in New York, where dating can be daunting because we’re all so insanely busy, a short text or email goes a long way. Without any communication, I’m left to assume that the person is just not that into me.
While a “How’s your day going?” or “I miss you” is nice, I’m talking about communication more than I am adoration. I want someone I can turn to when I’m having a panic attack, who won’t roll their eyes or jump in and try to save me, but who will be there to listen, and I in turn will do the same. In that last long-distance relationship, I loved sending care packages. Hearing that a book I’d sent had a major impact made me feel important and valued.
What seems to happen often is in the initial flirting stages, there’s a flurry of contact; you want to rush to respond the minute the person writes to you or drop your other plans to see them. Then that excitement drops off or you get busy and don’t put as much effort into letting the person know they’re on your mind. I’ve been guilty of it, too, certainly, but it makes it extremely challenging when you’re still in the getting-to-know-you stage.
I know not everyone communicates in the same way, so perhaps this requirement seems extreme or unfair. If I were in a serious relationship and the person wanted to make sure I knew they weren’t flaky, then we’d discuss the topic rationally and find others for them to show me they’re thinking of me.
I used to think I was low-maintenance when it came to relationships, and in the sense that I don’t care about a person’s salary or other status symbols, that’s true. But maybe needing attention actually makes me more high-maintenance than a girl who wants a rich husband. Wealth, at least, is easy to quantify. Attention is trickier, and can be more easily manipulated.
I stopped seeing someone, in part, because they made it clear they didn’t have time to even write a one-line email, let alone wish me a Happy Birthday. We’re friends now, but I’ve seen that when the tables are turned, if I don’t respond within a day to a missive, I get a phone call. That’s the imbalance I’m looking to correct in my future relationships. I don’t want someone to call me out of obligation, but because they genuinely want to hear my voice, more than anyone else’s. Maybe that’s too much to ask for, but accepting less than that feels too close to settling for my taste.
The thing that turns me off the most is when I sense, or am told, my lover’s attention is waning, whether that means a longer time in between email replies, or me having to be the one to make all the plans. Without at least some attention being paid to me, I start to feel like I’m pushing myself on them, which is a very icky feeling.
At the same time, if I’m dating someone, I will not only follow them on every social networking site on which I can find them, I will studiously Google them and read everything they’ve written, that’s been written about them, and watch all their videos. I’ll find out everything I can about them, not in a stalker-y way, but because I want to get to know them.
The great thing about attention is that it’s free and, hopefully, easy. I’m not expecting them to hang on my every word and parrot them back to me, or remember every detail I share. I also don’t expect them to follow me online, and in some ways would prefer they didn’t. I do want someone I can share the little things that wind up making or breaking my day.
When I was in back-to-back long distance relationships, we missed out on seeing each other in person, spending quiet moments holding hands or making out, or curling up next to each other sleeping. Yet what we lacked in physical contact, we made up for with hours-long phone calls and daily check-ins. That’s what’s missing in my life, and to me sleeping with someone without knowing the basic ups and downs of their life feels like the glass is more than half empty.
Sex then has to do so much more than bring us physical enjoyment. It has to be the glue that keeps us together when a week’s gone by without anything more than observing each other’s status updates, and that’s a lot to ask sex to do.
I have dated and slept with many accomplished people?a Macarthur Genius grant awardee, an Emmy winner, authors, actors?and while their talents are part of what drew me to them, I can’t date a trophy or diploma. I want to date a real person, warts and all, someone who shares as much of their emotional self as I do. Bottom line, we have to both be interested in each other’s lives, otherwise the precarious balancing act of dating is lopsided.
I don’t have a checklist of X calls and Y emails per day. It’s more that I want to feel special and cared about in the moments when we’re not physically together. Especially in New York, where dating can be daunting because we’re all so insanely busy, a short text or email goes a long way. Without any communication, I’m left to assume that the person is just not that into me.
While a “How’s your day going?” or “I miss you” is nice, I’m talking about communication more than I am adoration. I want someone I can turn to when I’m having a panic attack, who won’t roll their eyes or jump in and try to save me, but who will be there to listen, and I in turn will do the same. In that last long-distance relationship, I loved sending care packages. Hearing that a book I’d sent had a major impact made me feel important and valued.
What seems to happen often is in the initial flirting stages, there’s a flurry of contact; you want to rush to respond the minute the person writes to you or drop your other plans to see them. Then that excitement drops off or you get busy and don’t put as much effort into letting the person know they’re on your mind. I’ve been guilty of it, too, certainly, but it makes it extremely challenging when you’re still in the getting-to-know-you stage.
I know not everyone communicates in the same way, so perhaps this requirement seems extreme or unfair. If I were in a serious relationship and the person wanted to make sure I knew they weren’t flaky, then we’d discuss the topic rationally and find others for them to show me they’re thinking of me.
I used to think I was low-maintenance when it came to relationships, and in the sense that I don’t care about a person’s salary or other status symbols, that’s true. But maybe needing attention actually makes me more high-maintenance than a girl who wants a rich husband. Wealth, at least, is easy to quantify. Attention is trickier, and can be more easily manipulated.
I stopped seeing someone, in part, because they made it clear they didn’t have time to even write a one-line email, let alone wish me a Happy Birthday. We’re friends now, but I’ve seen that when the tables are turned, if I don’t respond within a day to a missive, I get a phone call. That’s the imbalance I’m looking to correct in my future relationships. I don’t want someone to call me out of obligation, but because they genuinely want to hear my voice, more than anyone else’s. Maybe that’s too much to ask for, but accepting less than that feels too close to settling for my taste.
