Posted by Ilana Angel
I have met a man. He makes me think about things differently, laugh from a place deep within, share with no hesitation, and flutter like a schoolgirl. Our meeting was random and unexpected, yet the friendship we are starting is profound. We don’t have a lot in common, and our paths through life have been very different, but there is a bond that I can only assume comes from the soul. He is my friend, and he matters to me.
I have been stumbling through the past couple of months because I was broken up with, and could not understand why it happened. I mean understand why it happened, so I suppose I simply could not believe it happened. I have been trying to move forward but it is really hard. There is nothing more painful than a broken heart, and I have been paralyzed by it. I wanted to get another cat and embrace the joy of being a spinster.
It is because of my friends that I have been able to stay away from the animal shelter. My childhood friends, adult friends, sister, and Twitter friends have talked me off the ledge and nursed me back to health. There have been flowers, wine, chocolate, hugs, and countless invitations to crawl up on their couches and cry until I feel better. It is through these remarkable friendships that I was able to see a remarkable man.
I was advised to close a door so a window would open, but I was unwilling to close the door on my relationship because I was in shock that after such a close partnership, friendship could not be salvaged. I would try to close the door, but each time I got close I would send a drunken text, or pathetic email, trying to hang on to something with a man who did not want anything. You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat you at the end.
I gently and reluctantly closed the door, only to have this new man burst through the window. He is open, aware, enlightened, supportive, and appears to lack the bullshit gene. He is wise, and although not religious, has a Judaic worldview that brings me closer to God, because he makes me talk to God. I take all my questions to God and he has inspired a lot of questions. Questions about myself, and who I want to be in this life.
He has a lot of answers, some of them good, some of them wrong, but all of them fascinating. He has been my friend, father, brother, Rabbi, and inspiration. He has made me believe in myself again. When I talk with him I twirl my hair, have a smile on my face, and allow myself to focus on tomorrow, instead of obsessing over yesterday. I don’t know were this man came from, but I am very happy that he is here. He is wonderful.
He is geographically undesirable, yet completely available. We speak throughout each day and our nights end with conversations that are funny and warm, quiet and important. We are having dinner on Thursday and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope there was attraction between us, but in the end it won’t really matter. This man has meant so much because he reminds me I have value. I feel beautiful when I talk to him.
When he asks for my advice, or shares his stories with me, I feel happy to be in the company of a man. He makes me feel important. He makes me feel safe. He reminds me that what defines a man is his ability to show decency and integrity to a woman. He has been careful with my heart, while not allowing me to hide behind it. He is Israeli, he is a mensch, and although he may have broken English, I understand him perfectly.
Those who don’t know me will think it is odd that I can speak so deeply about a man that I don’t know, but those who do know me, understand that this is who I am. I live with care and passion. I am a woman of faith and hope. When a woman loses her husband of 50 years, or a 16 year old girl breaks up with her boyfriend, the tears are the same. Women feel the same pain and we share the same hopes for love and acceptance.
I have taught my son to respect a woman’s heart and know that it is fragile, but also strong. It is forgiving and kind, yet wrapped up in all kinds of crazy. He is a remarkable young man for having this knowledge, and the women he will love in his life will be blessed. I am honest and open with all of you, and I am not going to stop being that way because I worry about what you will think of me. In the end if you read my columns, you know me, and get it.
The Israeli is aware and supportive of my blog. He is not intimidated by it, and has no fear about being in it. He feels that if this is what I do, and he is in my life, then he is a part of the blog. I think that is sexy. I will let you all know how the date goes. That said, I do not need to wait for the date to share with you that this is a special man, our friendship is important, and hearts can be mended if you open a window, and keep the faith.
12.12.13 at 8:05 am | Well played my son. Well played.
12.11.13 at 6:58 am | I watch in awe and stare with envy at these. . .
12.5.13 at 3:16 pm | Heaven has received a blessing today.
12.3.13 at 3:05 pm | Every time I go into the kitchen I half expect to. . .
11.30.13 at 10:42 am | "The only correct actions are those that demand. . .
11.29.13 at 1:56 pm | My nest will never empty as my son will always be. . .
9.15.13 at 3:14 pm | I love you Russell Brand. (421)
12.12.13 at 8:05 am | Well played my son. Well played. (397)
7.25.11 at 5:38 pm | We need more Jews! (229)
April 29, 2013 | 12:01 am
Posted by Ilana Angel
It has been a few weeks since the Englishman decided to not only break up with me, but to no longer be my friend. It has been shocking really, and I cannot stop crying. Not at the loss of love, which is sad, but at the loss of friendship, which it turns out must not have been friendship at all, since he so easily discarded it. I’m a little bitter to be sure, but mostly just hurt my friend turned out to not be a friend. I know we all grieve loss differently, and he is doing his thing, but what he has done now, is ensure we will never be friends again. His actions after the breakup, trump all the good from when we were together, and I still cry most days.
There are no guarantees in relationships, and life goes on. I want to share my life with someone, so dating is in my future. I have set up two dates since my break up, and cancelled both. I have not been ready to move on and actually feel debilitated with fear. My confidence is shaken, self–esteem is fragile, and I am scared. Scared to try again, fail again, and trust again. I understand love is not enough to make a relationship work, but if you have love and it falls apart, then what do you do to move forward? The only way is to look at your lost relationship with clarity, and if you are honest with yourself, you see that love is not enough to make it work.
In the case of the Englishman and me, I really loved him, and have never worked so hard for a relationship to work. I am left broken, having tried to fix what was broken. I can think of a million things I would do differently, but the outcome would be the same. No matter how much I wanted it to be, he was not my Beshert. I am jaded but hopeful. I have no idea when I will find love again, but I know I will, because time will help to heal my broken heart. In fact, I am learning with each day that my heart is not broken, as much as it is wounded. It is that realization that gives me the strength to think outside the box and start to look forward.
I met someone interesting on JDate last week. We have had several phone conversations, some lasting hours. He is Israeli, which we all know is not my thing. When Israeli men say “Tanks God”, I get a lower back pain. Sadly the accent is not sexy because Hebrew is not sexy, but he presents as a really lovely man. He is tall, handsome, funny, and smart. He has a compassionate heart, and when I told him I share my life with all of you, he gave permission, without hesitation, to write whatever I wanted about him. It could be because the poor guy didn’t understand me, or perhaps I didn’t understand him, but permission was granted.
Important to remember that we met on JDate, so statistically it is quite possble he is not tall, or handsome, or lovely. That's the thing about dating online, until you meet the person in person, you never really know who you are dealing with. Additionally, until you run a police report, you never really know who they are. We are having dinner Thursday, and while I am looking forward to it, I am nervous. Not because there are expectations, but because I am scared. I lack trust in myself. I do not trust that I am able to make the right decisions, or know who I am dealing with. It is to be expected with the end of a relationship, but sadly alters how you move forward.
The good news is that the Israeli has made me laugh. I don’t understand half of what he says, which is funny, but beyond the language, he is simply funny. He pokes fun at himself, and at me. He listens and pays attention, circling back to things I said days ago. We are building a friendship, and while scary, gives me a sense of hope. Not hope in him, but hope in myself. Hope I will be okay, pain will fade, disappointment will be replaced with promise, lessons are learned, and knowledge is gained. I am looking forward to meeting this potentially handsome, tall, and green-eyed Israeli. Will I panic and cancel? I hope not, so I’m keeping the faith.
April 23, 2013 | 9:47 am
Posted by Ilana Angel
When my son was thirteen he came to me and announced he was going to leave home for college and attend in another city. He respectfully and adorably informed me I had four years to “find a man to replace him”. If I was not in a relationship when he was off to college, he would go to a local school. He refused to leave me alone, which I thought was lovely.
I remember the conversation very clearly. It was during the week leading up to his Bar Mitzvah. He was becoming a man and felt the need to let me know he was going to take care of me. It was a moment that forever altered the course of our lives. I remember feeling incredibly proud of him for being such a mensch, and instantly panicked that he was such a mensch.
I had raised him on my own and was waiting for a sign I was doing a good job. When he was willing to put aside his dreams to make sure I was not alone, I knew I raised a wonderful human being. I also knew that I needed to start dating immediately. I did not have a lot of time, and dated as if my life depended on it. Thus began the journey that is "Keeping the Faith".
I have had two meaningful relationships in the four years since his Bar Mitzvah. One was important, and one was forever. I thought it was forever. The important one allowed me to open my heart to love. It helped define my life as a Jew and taught me that beyond being a mother, I could be a woman. The second one was Beshert. Even though it ended, it is forever.
My last relationship ended badly, but there are silver linings to be found in life. You may not be able to see my broken heart, but my ass looks fabulous. I have lost weight, and since food is unappealing, I’m taking vitamins so my hair and nails are fabulous. My relationship may have ended, but I am going to love this man forever, and fighting that fact has made me crazy.
I am so focused on being angry and bitter, that I am not allowing myself to be fabulous. I suffer of course because time is being wasted, but the real suffering is by my son. I love this child and he is my whole life, so it has been heartbreaking to have see me be so sad. The most crushing thing as a mother is to have her child see her cry and that she is in pain.
Last night my son held my hand while I cried. It is not his job to comfort me, and it is a crippling feeling to have put my baby in the position of feeling he needs to look after me. This morning however, I woke thinking about our conversation at his Bar Mitzvah, and he has always taken care of me. We are a team, support each other, and share a truly great love.
My son’s dream is to go away to college and he has a very specific focus of study. Pursuing his dreams will require leaving Los Angeles. He knows it, I know it, and we both want it. Last night however, as I cried, he reminded me that he will not leave me. It was so lovely and sweet that I was overcome with guilt because he is not getting the best of me right now.
I have been sad, combative, quiet, and distracted. I have allowed my life to impact his in a stressful way, when my goal has always been to make his life better. It has to stop. I must pick myself up, dust myself off, admire my fabulous ass, and get on with it. I am not going to let anyone make my son worry, especially me. It is time for changes to be made.
I have allowed my life as a woman to overpower my life as a mother and it is not cool. To my remarkable son, I love you honey. You are a wonderful person and an amazing man. I am proud to be your mother and proud to call you my friend. You make me a better person and I want to thank you for taking such great care of your Momma. I am ok, and we are okay.
You are going to go away to college and my greatest joy in life will be in watching your dreams come true. You are going to change the world and I can’t wait to see it happen. Nothing is going to keep you from your dreams, and the good news is that it turns out I actually had five years to find love because you have another year until you leave for college.
The reality is that I don’t need to find love, because I have love. I don’t need a man to complete me, because being a mother is what completes me. If I find love in the next year it will be wonderful, as I would like to share my life with someone. If I don’t that will be okay too because my life is blessed, and exciting things are on the horizon for my future.
I am going to start over and go into the hell that is online dating with realistic expectations about the process. I am certain I will kiss some frogs, meet some freaks, encounter a convicted felon or two, meet men who lie about their height, are too old to remember their age, and always be one cat away from not having a shot in hell of meeting a good man.
I will date with hope, not desperation. I will focus on peace, not anger. I will strive for forgiveness, not linger in bitterness. I will be a great mother and a strong woman. I will do it all, because I have it all. Yesterday someone posted this video on Facebook and I have watched it at least a dozen times. This woman makes me so happy I can hardly stand it.
I think she is just wonderful and I wish I could tell her this video has made me happy. I watch it, dance along with her, and feel pure joy. I want to thank her for reminding me that sometimes you just have to dance. Tonight I am going to make my son’s favorite dinner and when he gets home, we are going to dance around, laugh, and keep the faith.
April 20, 2013 | 4:19 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
Is it too much to ask that people be decent when dating? If you are looking to get laid, looking for love, or not even sure what you are looking for, why can’t you just be decent? Why is it so hard to take the feelings of others into consideration when dating? I truly just don’t get people. I respond to everyone who writes me when I’m online dating. I know it takes courage to put yourself out there, so even if I am not interested, I will thank them for the interest and wish them luck. It is not brain surgery, just common decency. I am annoyed by it all.
Last night I came home after a very long day, cancelled my plans with friends and opted to just relax and not do anything. I had a nice bath, put on my favorite pajamas, and watched Bridget Jones’s Diary. Perfect. I made some popcorn, gathered up the cat, and opened a bottle of wine. Well that was my first mistake. Before I was even aware of what was happening, I texted the Englishman. Some drunken rant about how much I miss him. Dear Lord. It was sent about 9:00 pm and I truly have no recollection of sending it. Damn you Francis Ford Coppola.
So I sent a text. Not cool. Also not cool that he never responded. I was obviously blabbering and in distress, but nothing. No “Are you okay?” “Are you safe?” Nothing. This man, who I loved for over a year, and built a life with, did not bother to check in and make sure I was fine. One could argue that we are broken up and he owes me nothing, but I disagree. What he owes me, is decency. I loved him and his children, and allowed him to love me and my child, so while he has moved on from it all, he does actually owe me, at the very least, some common decency.
It would have been nice if he had checked on me. He reads my blog and knows what is going on with me, but I don’t know what is going on with him. That is weird, and hurtful. He gets to break my heart, then watch it go back and forth between healing and cracking more, but I get nothing, which is hard. Why so selfish? By selfish of course I mean dumb. He continues to hurt me, so I’m the dumb one. In an attempt to move on, I wrote a man on JDate and explained he was my first email and should write me back so I was not scarred by the entire experience.
We actually ended up writing several times. He was funny, along with being handsome. We chatted online late one night as he was on a business trip. I gave him my number and told him to call when he got back to LA. That was it. I never heard from him again. It’s now been a week. It would have taken a minute to write and tell me he was not interested. There are a million things one can say to get rid of a girl, the easiest being the truth. I’m just not that into you. Instead he opted to ignore me, which, as silly as it sounds, hurts my feelings.
I was decent and he could have been decent. It is not a big deal if he does not want to continue talking, but it is a big deal if he thinks blowing someone off is ok. We know what each other looks like, and we know the basics, so are we strangers? Men are driving me to drink. Normally that would be fun, but now I seem to be drinking and texting, which is a very bad combination. Note to self. No more texting when drinking, and no apology texts in the morning, blaming the wine. Yes. I actually did that too. I need to read Brandi Glanville’s book again!
This morning I was surprised when shown not all men are douchebags. Well they may be, but some are also decent. I got an email from a man who is 38 years old. He wrote a beautiful note, and while I was flattered, I don’t date men who are younger or not Jewish. I let him know I appreciated the interest and wished him well. He wrote to say my reply was odd since I wrote in my profile I date men as young as 38. It was obvious my sister had been looking around for me and changed my age range. God bless her for trying to think outside the box
I called my sister to let her know I was onto her, changed the ages to be correct, then wrote him back and let him know my sister was out of control. He wrote and asked what exactly I was looking for. I told him I was not really looking as much as I was healing a broken heart, and just trying it out more for my sister than me. This man, this stranger, then wrote me the kindest of notes. He decided, when given the opportunity to blow me off, that he would be decent. The Jewish men I met could not do what this Italian was able to do. He was a real mensch.
His note read in part: “I got an idea... why don't you come to the park tomorrow, we can walk my dog. Sounds like you need a good hug.” He will never know how much it meant to me that he was kind. To this lovely man, thank you for being decent. The minute it took you to be nice will stay with me forever. To the man who blew me off after I gave him my number, I wish you well on your search for love, and decency. As for the Englishman, I’ve got nothing for you. To those who are dating, remember that people have taken a giant leap and a little respect is deserved.
I am fine, putting myself out there, and the truth is that some days are better than others. They say time heals so I hope slow and steady wins this race. Some lucky girl will find my new Italian hero and he will make her happy. Someone will not be decent to the douchebags, and maybe it will help them behave better. As for me, I have finally deleted the Englishman’s phone number and email from my phone so I can’t text during my next drunken stupor. We all know I’ll have another one, maybe tonight, so I’m protecting myself, and keeping the faith.
I heard from all three of these men today. I was not surprised really because I am one who thinks that while you may need to help them along on the path to decency, people are inherently kind. I was not even surprised by what they all said. They made me laugh, think, and in the end, move on. It is fascinaing that sometimes you can get hit in the head with a brick and not snap out of something, yet other times a subtle and seemingly nothing exchange, can be the thing to knock some sense into you. That is the case here.
The Italian wrote to thank me for the blog, and say the offer of a hug is always there. The JDater wrote a very well written email to let me know that while he could have been more decent, it is not always about me, and his not writing was not about me, as much as life happening and me not being on the top of his list of things to do. It was not harsh, but rather honest, hilarious, and 100% correct. Poor guy got caught up in the emotions of my crap, without even knowing it. It's a shame I blew that one, but live and learn.
The Englishman also got in touch. He opted to text me, which is hilarious. He apologized for not responding to my drunk text, or my apology for the drunk text. After the relationship we had, I was still not worth a call, just a text. It took this text to show me I am over him. He is not who I thought he was. I suppose I put blinders on to what I did not want to see about him, and focused only on the fairytale. I thought he was Prince Charming, but in the end he was the villain and my romantic heart betrayed me.
I am done humilating myself and certainly done with crying over a man that was not worthy of my heart. I met an interesting man at a party yesterday who said some enlightening things about life, love, and God. My life is blessed, my heart is capable of great love, and God is on my side. Time for a fresh start. No more blogs about the Englishman. It is over, I am fine, and love is in my furture. I want it, need it, deserve it, and confident that next time I will see things clearly, so I am keeping the faith.
April 18, 2013 | 9:22 am
Posted by Ilana Angel
I was invited to a party last night, and after spending all day trying to figure out a good enough excuse to not go, I went. I’ve been feeling anti-social since my break up and wanted to stay home. I don’t feel pretty or funny, which is unfortunate because I am hilarious and actually look quite good.
I went with my dear friend Scott and met up with my fancy Hollywood girlfriends. I knew I was going to be with a group of gorgeous and famous beauties, so I gave in to my decision to go by brushing my hair, putting on lipstick, a few sequins, and my highest heels. At least I was trying.
Scott and I went in and headed to the bar. I ordered vodka with pineapple juice, and the night began. Scott is gorgeous, charming, Jewish, and my dream man. Paul is his delicious boyfriend, so it isn’t happening for us, but a girl can dream. I was now on a mission to have a good time.
Did you hear the one about the Jew and Italian from New York who walk into a bar? We met these two young and handsome New Yorkers and struck up a conversation as we gathered at the same table. They were in the hotel industry and clients of OK Magazine, who was hosting the party.
They were both handsome and funny so I immediately got to searching through my contacts to fix them up. The Italian was 31 and the Jew was 29. Both were sexy and approachable. They were clearly not from LA. They were fun and entertaining, which I find most men are when they don’t live in shallow LA. The young Italian and I got to chatting and he told me I did not look as old as I was, and said if I didn’t have such a steadfast rule to not date younger men, he would date me. He might have been blowing smoke up my ass, but I don’t care. It mattered to me.
After a break up there is insecurity so without even realizing it, this man lifted me up. He made me flip my hair, stand taller, put on fresh lipstick, and remember that I may not be 20 something, but I am 40 something and fabulous. I am a very sexy woman and it took a stranger to remind me I am a catch and someone will see it. To my new friend Rob from NYC, thank you. Thank you for making me feel beautiful, for telling me my ex was a schmuck, and for allowing me, even if for just a moment, to feel my heart will mend and I will get my mojo back.
We left the New Yorkers and joined my fancy friends for drinks. My girlfriend Brandi invited me to the party and she looked beautiful. She is a celebrity and one of the funniest people I know. When I went over she stood up, hugged me, and told me I was beautiful. I know it sounds silly, but I almost cried. I was there to celebrate her, but she celebrated me, and it was lovely. Her support of me was important. I look at her and wonder how it is that we are both single when she is so spectacular looking. In the end, we may look different, but we are exactly the same.
She is a woman, a mother, and has had to mend a broken heart. We may not look the same, but the pain and struggles are the same. Our insecurities may be different, because to clarify she has no body fat and legs for days, but our insecurities make sense to us. It is not how you look that defines how you mend your heart, it is how you feel. As women we feel, think, dream, and process disappointment the same. Being with Brandi, and having her say I am beautiful, was healing. It was proving to be a good night and I was glad I dragged my ass out.
My friend Jennifer was there and I cannot say enough how much I love this woman. We are connected in powerful ways. I feel like I have known her my entire life, or perhaps another life. When we hugged I didn’t want to let go. If I could see myself as she sees me, I could rule the world. She is a supportive friend and even if she is feeling low, puts aside her feelings to address mine. She is a movie star, yet to me she is simply Jen and my life is better with her in it. When she told me I looked beautiful, I believed her because she would not lie. She is my favorite.
We look to men to tell us we are beautiful and desirable, but the best reflection of who we are comes from our girlfriends. After an evening with these women I woke up feeling strong. A gorgeous New Yorker thought I was hot, my girlfriends made me feel beautiful, and my friend Scott was such a good date I left wanting to make out with him. I may not be his type, but that does not matter. The point is that he reminded me men are great, and I look forward to meeting someone new. Will he be as divine as Scott? Maybe with vodka, so I’m keeping the faith.
April 16, 2013 | 8:46 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
When a relationship ends it is humiliating. When you write about your relationship for the world to see, a break up takes on a whole other level of humiliation. I have spent the last year sharing my love with you. How we met, our dates, meeting kids, our first fight, our first trip together, going home to meet his family, all the way to the abrupt end to our love story.
I am embarrassed. Embarrassed that it ended, embarrassed that I could not save it, embarrassed that I care at all that I could not save it, and embarrassed that a month later I am still crying about it. I’m not crying because I am sad, although I am, I am crying because I am humiliated. I loved this man in a profound way and yet I could not make it work.
As I write I am thinking that I should not be writing this, but the thing is I feel like we are in this together. I get the best advice, support, and frankly kicks in the ass from all of you, so I am going to put it all out there. The painful truth is that even though I know there were things that needed to be sorted, I would not have given up on him, or us, the way he did.
A break up makes one reflect not only on the relationship, but on yourself. What is wrong with me? What could I have done differently? Could I have saved the relationship if I tried harder? Been more communicative? Taller? Thinner? Sexier? Dumber? In the end there was nothing I could have, or should have, done differently. I was lovely to him, and lovely with him.
He was also lovely to me, and lovely with me. He was a wonderful boyfriend and a best friend. Why do I put the burden of doubt on myself? Does he think he could have tried harder? Been more communicative? Taller? Thinner? Sexier? Dumber? In the end was there nothing more he could have done? Why do I make it about what I did wrong, and not what he did wrong?
I miss him. I miss talking to him everyday, getting funny texts from him, and knowing that I would see him. He was my friend, and I miss my friend. We are not speaking. Why would we? It is hard and I am feeling the loss. I find myself thinking about who he is dating and what she is like. Does he think about me, or compare me and us, to her and them? Not good.
I have stopped crying, stopped being angry, and am simply disappointed. My struggle is now in not talking to him. Something great happens, I want to call. Something bad happens, I want to call. When nothing is happening, I want to call. I miss my friend and the best thing I can do for myself is to remember that no matter how much I loved him, he hurt me deeply.
He ended our relationship in a cowardly way and it is unfortunate that when I think about this man, my friend, and a great love, the first thing that comes to mind is the hurt. That is sad for me, sad for him, and sad for the memory of our time together. Time heals and life goes on, but what a shame if I look back in time and can only remember the hurt and doubt.
I can’t forgive someone for being cruel, abusive, dismissive, or purposely mean, but I can forgive someone for being a schmuck. I deserve the relationship I want for myself, but no relationship is going to be perfect, and if the worse thing this man did was be a schmuck, couldn’t we have figured out a way to make it work? I am wasting my time thinking about it.
I feel like Adele wrote her albums about me. She gets it. Granted she is young and I am not, but a woman’s heart is the same no matter how old she is. My blogs are my songs, and this is a particularly sad one. I am lucky to have a place to share my stories, and blessed to have people who care enough to listen and share their stories in return. It is painful but cathartic.
I am fine. I am going to be fine. While I sort through the frogs, toads, convicted felons, and sociopaths, I hope he thinks kindly of me if he looks back. The truth is I just hope he thinks of me. I hope he knows that I really loved him and my heart is broken. I want him to feel bad about it. By feel bad of course I mean call me and beg me to take him back. Not really.
Maybe a little really, but not really, really. One could read this blog and think I am pathetic, but I don’t feel pathetic. I feel like a young girl who has never been through it before, rather than a grown woman who is going through it again. I will meet someone wonderful and I pray it will be before I give up because I am too scared to love again. Now I am pathetic.
Time is the only thing that can mend a broken heart. There is nothing anyone can do or say to make you feel better, but there is comfort to be found in someone understanding what you are feeling and thinking. You are certain you are the only one to ever hurt this way but sadly, and thankfully, you are not. The heartbreak of love is not new, and I am not alone.
I will regret this blog as soon as I post it. Then I will plan to take it down but decide to have a glass of wine first. Then I will get an email or a tweet from a woman somewhere in the world who knows exactly how I am feeling, and I will leave it up. Maybe he will read it, maybe he shouldn't, and that is the madness of love. I am having more wine, and keeping the faith.
April 15, 2013 | 8:36 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
How is it possible that a large group of men can all suffer from the same disorder and not be aware of it? Jewish men are simply unable to give their correct height. Why? If they are 5’4”, they say 5’7”. If they are 5’7”, they say they are 5’10”. If they are 5’10”, they automatically become 6’. Why do they do this if they want a shot in hell of finding a partner?
It’s not like lying about your height is not going to be discovered. It only means that if you meet someone wonderful, the first thing she will think about you, is that you are a liar. Actually, that is the second thing she will think about you because the first thing is that you are short. Height is not that important. I have dated hobbits and giants, not a big deal.
As I start my journey through online dating, again, I am seeing men that I actually know, and have first hand knowledge that they are lying about they height. It is hilarious to me. I only date Jewish men, so I can only speak of my experiences, but exaggerating height seems to be a Jewish problem. Jewish men are fabulous, but unclear about what 5’10” looks like.
In the end it is a dumb choice. I appreciate people are sad, lonely, and occasionally desperate, but lying is not the way to go. I am finding that men are also lying about their ages. There is one man in particular who I know for a fact is 58, but lists himself as 51. Some men list a certain age, then in the first line of their profile, admit they lied. So why lie at all?
I hope to meet a man who wants to have a relationship. When he sees me online he will see my real face, can Google me and find out everything he needs to know, along with things he probably does not need to know. He will know I have curves and am not a rake. He will know I am sarcastic, funny, honest, and not looking for a hookup. There are no surprises with me.
I’m not saying I don’t play the game, because I do, but there is a difference between saying I am short and saying I love football. I don’t love football, but I will watch it, get into it, learn about your favorite team, and wear your Jersey. I will not however tell you I am 42, a size 6, and 5’8”. The rules of dating call for some manipulations, but not lies, so stop lying.
Dating online makes me wonder if people are inherently kind but somewhat desperate to meet a partner, or inherently evil and looking to get laid. It is very stressful to allow yourself to trust a stranger. I understand it is the age we live in, but that does not make it any easier. Dating is hard, online dating is time consuming, trusting yourself is impossible, and JDate is painful.
I get emails from women all over the world saying they have given up on dating. It is exhausting so I understand their frustration. I listen to their stories and think maybe I should give up too. Some days I wish chicks did it for me so I could pass on men and meet a nice Jewish girl. I once took a Facebook poll to see how gay I was. I scored 1%, so chicks are out.
There is nothing wrong with being a tall Jew, short Jew, or old Jew. Even lying Jews are acceptable I guess, if they are attorneys. The thing is, we are Jews so there is a certain level of decency I expect. By expect of course I mean hope. By hope, of course I mean that finding decent Jewish men online may be impossible. Cute, yes. Decent, not so much.
To women who have given up, I say try again. We can do it together. We can support each other, laugh with each other, and cry with each other. Hopefully more tears of joy than sadness, but tears should be expected. Love is wonderful and the truth is a one date guy can also be wonderful. Actually, if you blog about your life, a bad date can be wonderful.
In the interest of not lying, I will tell you that a lot of what I have been writing this past week about my excitement to get out there again is a lot of bravado. I am scared to death. Scared of rejection and even more terrified of meeting someone great. Being a woman in her 40’s and dating, sucks ass. No way to sugar coat it people, it truly is horrific.
I am a little wounded and somewhat jaded, but thankfully I am not bitter. I am angry to be sure, that I am back in this position, but one can be angry without being bitter. I am here and I am trying. It turns our trying is all that is required of me. God, luck, and vodka will take care of the rest. Love is lost, life goes on, and love is found again, so keep the faith.
April 14, 2013 | 9:48 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
Well it happened. After feeling sorry for myself, crying, and drowning my sorrow in red wine and cosmos, I have rejoined the dating world. It was a surprisingly easy decision. People give the advice that after a break up you need to heal and give yourself time, but the truth is that you never heal from lost love. I was in love, the relationship ended, and life goes on.
When you drink too much and wake up with a hangover, they say you should have a drink to take the edge off. The same applies to love in my opinion. When a man breaks your heart, you need to find another man to heal it. The only thing that can fill a hole carved out by love, is love. So, I’m back in the game, and after a couple of days of online dating, I am drinking heavily.
I have joined JDate and Match.com and it has been painful. There are men dating online who are using the same picture they did 10 years ago. There are men who list The Notebook as their favorite movie, and men who insist they are bringing no baggage into their next relationship. In short, online dating has a lot of men, and a whole lot of lying. Shoot me now.
In searching through the countless men, I realized two important things. One: Beyond frogs, there might be actual toads in my future. Two: Love is grand and I can remember more good than bad, so love is possible. When you are dating, online or otherwise, the most important thing is to know that love is out there. If you believe it is possible, it will in fact be possible.
I feel sad to be starting over. I am 47 years old, have a son with one foot out the door, and I will spend my new dating life just one bad date way from another cat. The sadness is there, but the hope is greater. I have hope that I will find love and during the process not have a date so bad I want to get another cat, bite my nails, cut my hair, or damage my liver too badly.
I am going to stay positive, approach it all with a sense of humor, and pray that I avoid killers, convicted felons, and the toothless. I am also going to publicly state that I am open to fix ups. I know a lot of people, and those people know a lot of people, so someone has got to know a nice Jewish man to fix me up with. How hard can it be? Needle in a haystack hard!
So it begins. I am officially single and looking. I’m a little older, a little wiser, a little thinner, and a little bitter. At the end of the day I am also fabulous, funny, pretty, kind, giving, and sexy. I am going to find a man who sees it, appreciates it, wants it, and is made better because of it. Here we go people. I am taking you all along with me, so lets keep the faith.