Everyone and their mom are talking today about how to find, nurture and sustain true love. Even the writers at The New York Times couldn’t help themselves and got a head start on the love advice yesterday, consuming most of my beloved “Sunday Styles” section with crap about putting your ideal mate’s “resume” on Craigslist and visiting mystical rabbis who can predict when you will meet your future mate. Oh yeah, and apparently the Barefoot Contessa has a crush on Alec Baldwin…über helpful.
P&V’s advice? Don’t take any. Seriously. Do nothing. When it comes to true love, at least for me and the hus-b, it simply happened, a confluence of the happy accident of sharing a matchmaking mutual friend, circumstances that allowed us to develop a friendship before a romance, and good old-fashioned chemistry. No magic bullets, no a-ha moments, no life-altering epiphanies: just living an honest life, being reasonably kind and interesting, and refusing to settle for anything less than wonderful (no matter what some crazies may try to convince one of).
Just letting it happen is without a doubt the hardest part of our non-advice. What girl hasn’t had her Charlotte York “I’ve been dating since I was 15. I’m exhausted. Where is he?!” moment at one point or another? Patience not being my strong suit, I will plainly admit to much crying, complaining and foot-stamping along the way (gracious I was not). But, like I hope that childbirth will be (let me have my illusions, people), I plumb forgot about all of the discomfort along the way once I fell for my darling hus-b. I don’t think either he or I necessarily dreamed of getting married in our 30’s (being fairly traditional, commitment-seeking types), but the looks on our faces in this photo, and every day, say everything: it was completely and totally worth the wait.