It's a weird place I'm in, a transitional space, a way-station between one life and another. I've been in studio #303 for a year now, but hardly know anyone in the building. I used to make friends easily; these days it seems like I'm repelling people.
The three guys I’ve been hanging out with most recently, having become friends since I started this new journey, have gone off me for various reasons. One I had to force out, the pain of loving him more frequent than the pleasure of it; the second I guess I scared away; and the third I haven’t yet figured out, except perhaps I was too generous and allowed him to take me for granted. I think they will each gravitate back to some degree, but I need to embody more equanimity and less attachment. This is a challenge, since the thing I crave the most and thrive on is intimacy.
I have many close friends, whom I've cultivated over the 28 years I've lived in Minnesota, but it seems like I'm chasing them. To catch up to them, I have to travel to their lives to spend time with them. When I get there, I'm heartily welcomed and the connections are deep and meaningful, but then I come back to my life alone.
It feels like it did when I first moved here, September 23, 1985, trying to fit in, find a community, form a posse. Is it the curse of the single, white female, or is this life in the 21st century? Or just life in Minnesota.
Last time I was single was in my 30s. My community was Sweeney’s. We lived together and worked together. After work we partied all night together. On days off we went on shopping sprees together. For vacations we traveled together. I want that back! I want Entourage, Friends, How I Met Your Mother.
When I left my marriage I expected all that to fall into place. If I were gay, I’d have a ready-made community. Or Jewish, where there’d be plenty of enthusiastic matchmakers to set me up. But I’m not, so I’ve joined 20 meetup.com groups in search of people who enjoy similar activities – several groups of dancers, one of beaders, but mostly of socializers of various persuasions – in my quest for a band of like-minded folk.
Here’s what I want: a tribe of intelligent, fun-loving freaks to accept me into their circle. I want to be with people who value intimacy and authenticity, who care for and nurture each other and watch each other’s backs. I want to be part of a family of conscientious objectors who are bucking convention and creating a model for a peaceful and loving society based on spirit and kinship.
AND I want a tall, gorgeous bohemian to love and respect and inspire me to greatness. I want affection and acceptance of all the personalities and contradictions that inhabit this body of mine. I want him to care about his health and the food he eats, but not so seriously that an infrequent indulgence on pizza or fries is out of the question. I want him to care about his appearance, have European sensibilities with regards to tastes, dress and cultural attitudes. I want him to be a gentleman AND a feminist, well-versed and well-traveled. I want to feel easy and safe and appreciated AND have freedom to engage my other relationships without jealousy. I want him to be responsible for his promises. I want him to go out of his way for me, make an effort, step up. I want him to have money and be generous but not irresponsible with it. I want him to be engaged, creative and curious, with plenty of friends and a full and interesting history.
Is that too much to ask?