As many of you know, although I am unmarried, I wear a stacking of rings on my left ring finger—yeah, you know that finger. I can’t recall why I first slid them on, but the rings have been a sort of a metaphorical place holder for the past 3-or-so-years. To be quite honest, I have spent the last four years in two different relationships so I have been technically “taken” just not exactly married off in the big white dress amongst swans, a violinist, and members of my family I wish I didn’t have to invite. I also liked the feeling of being in a different category, and in that way inaccessible to men whereas in the past I felt like the male attention aimed at me made it seem like I was somehow too available. I liked the feeling of being mysterious, unattainable, and in a sense safe from looks, advances, and the daily douchebag encounter—or so I thought.
This brings me to the topic of today’s post: Married Subway Sneaks. Feeling joyously free from a lot of the unnecessary attention I used to get from random men, these days I sit quite confidently and relaxed on the subway—well, unless there are creepy peeps or crackheads making a racket or acting psychotic. On one of these typically peaceful subway rides whilst listening to my iPod at full blast I started to feel that unmistakable wolf stare, you know that hungry look that strangers give you on public transportation to let you know that they’re interested? As I gradually looked up to see whose radar was on me, I was shocked to notice that it wasn’t a sleazy construction worker teeming with testosterone, nor was it an aggressive baby thug full of feigned bravado. Nope, it was a quintessentially normal married dude in jeans, sneakers, and a blazer whose insatiable gaze had disturbed my once-peaceful subway ride into Manhattan. When I got off at Chambers Street I could still feel him watching me walk away, his eyes burning a hole into my ruffled mini dress, his visual appetite pulling the zipper down.
Once I noticed this married F-Train Romeo stealing glances at me I began to see that this wasn’t a one-off encounter. The closer I paid attention, the more I realized that myriad married men were looking at me on the subway. All types of hitched former bachelors were making eye advances at me. Was there an unspoken agreement between spoken-for urbanites that I wasn’t privy to? Was this a worldwide phenom, or just a New York thing? Does this happen to other ring-wearers fully immersed in the married life or was I merely an easy target because I haven’t truly crossed over to the other side yet? Whatever the case, I felt like I had definitely tapped into a secret world of stolen subway glances between outwardly coupled parties and it made me wonder why it feels strangely safe and OK for these men to express interest and attraction to someone else in their same marital status. Does it somehow make it right to eye-stalk someone who is also skirting the line of adultery?
For the past 17-days my boyfriend and I have been tirelessly searching for a new apartment. It’s common knowledge that moving is already taxing, but when you’re looking with someone else—and their dog—the whole hoopla becomes a shit-ton more exhausting and difficult. While going through the extreme ups and downs of house hunting with my partner I have learned a few crucial lessons that will definitely come in handy for the next move, as well as in my day-to-day life as one-half of a romantical duo. It’s amazing how many things you just don’t have to deal with when you’re solo, and I know that sounds really obvious but when you’re primarily trained to think with the single side of the brain it’s hard to negotiate, compromise, and be patient—you know those relationship-phobe dirty words that make you shiver in your stilettos? Yeah, those. (Shudder.)
Well after numerous fights, and a great deal of verbal and emotional pushing and pulling, I came to terms with the fact that it’s way more important to make peace and balance in my relationship than it is to be right all the time. This was a MAJOR first for me. In the past every battle was worth fighting, my word had to be the last one, and my stubbornness was unparalleled. Was it any surprise I was perennially single? I think not.
So like it was a sign shot straight from the partnership gods in the universe, when I started to drop the defensive tactics and put down the emotional daggers there was an instantaneous shift. The disagreements were no longer heated, the ice-cold resentment melted away to reveal intimacy, and the hurtful words became soft kisses. From that moment on I became convinced of the fact that when it comes to a coupling the energy you put forth is going to be the exact energy that is matched. Call it romantic karma, call it common sense, but holy shit it works. The proof is in the pistachio pudding, my friends.
Oh, and yeah we found an apartment. And believe you me, after learning these crucial lessons of Relationship 101 it will be a far happier home.
Photography by Helmut Newton
Between the requisite morning shower and my caffeine fix, I found myself temporarily transfixed by a steamy segment on NBC’s Today Show. The headline claimed that a healthy sex life contributes to a better performance in the workplace. I have always thought that having regular sex helps to create balance in the home, and confidence in the outside world, but I had never considered what its effect might be on me professionally. I won’t lie, I get a huge confidence boost from doing the deed. We all know that there’s nothing more self-esteem building and validating than having someone you find sexually attractive want you physically, and there is nothing better than having a heavy dose of Dopamine flowing in your bloodstream on the regular. That being said, it should make perfect sense that activity in the bedroom should help your activity in the boardroom. Should we test out this theory? I kind of did this morning…
"The Birth of Venus," by Alexandre Cabanel
I am not an expert, and therefore not technically qualified to be dolling out relationship advice. But in lieu of fancy degrees I have personally had plenty of first-hand experience when it comes to dating. Once famously deemed the “make-out queen” and a reformed notorious serial dater, I can say that when it comes to the mysterious, murky abyss that makes up the male-female dynamic, I am more-than-qualified to dish out my proverbial two cents. If anything I am happy to share my numerous mishaps and my fewer but by no means less important success stories to help you in your quest to find happiness with the opposite sex. I feel that it’s so important for there to be ways in which we can shares stories, tips, advice, and cautionary tales because so much important stuff goes unsaid, mainly due to the fact that a majority of what happens in our dating lives is embarrassing—I mean who really wants to make fun of their own rejection, or a tryst gone wrong? But I want use myself, my experiences as well as the kooky shit that has happened with my adventurous friends—don’t worry ladies, there will be no real names used—to hopefully create a language and a platform for women to learn and grow from each other and our collective dating trials and tribulations. So please allow me to introduce Venus in Heels, which will be a fun, informative, empowering, and subversive way to explore all the wacky things we go through in the pursuit of love, lust, happiness, and validation.
Let’s learn from our mistakes together.
xx The Rock n’ Roll Romantic