It’s hard to write about meeting the love of your life without giving some background on the 26 years before you met him. You can’t really understand what it feels like to know someone is “the one” without having dated a bunch of people who weren’t the one. Or maybe you can, but that’s not how it went for me.
Without going into too much detail, I’d say I definitely went through the cliche “bad boy” phase. Does everyone go through this or are most people wise enough to know that a person who is kind and caring is generally the person you want to go for? If a guy ignored me, was not really “looking for a relationship”, or was significantly older, it was a challenge I was ready to accept. Whether due to “daddy issues” or low self-esteem, it was a pattern that went on for many years.
Between bad breakups and broken hearts, I tried to like “nice” boys. The feeling nice boys gave me is like when you feel like there are spiders crawling on you, it’s like you are going to crawl out of your skin. My favorite nice boy story was when I went out for drinks with a guy friend of mine. We had a great time and got in a cab to head uptown to our respective homes. I’ll have to preface what comes next by saying that I have a bad habit of not buckling my seat belt in cabs. It’s not that I think it’s stupid or unnecessary, I’m just not used to doing it. Perhaps this is because they were always broken or ripped out of the old cabs I took? Fellow New Yorkers, do you find this to be true? Anyway, we were sitting in the cab and he had buckled his seat belt. As we drove uptown I watched out of the corner of my eye as he very slowly unbuckled his seat belt, noticing that I hadn’t buckled mine. The fact that he was being safe and buckling up in a cab is not what turned me off. It was the fact that he couldn’t be confident about his choice. If you happen to be reading this nice boy, I think you are a great person and you are going to make another seat belt buckle upper very happy someday.
I’m skipping over a lot of things here, but only to get to the best part faster. In November of 2014, I was swiping left and right, as you do. I don’t remember the exact moment when Bae came across my screen but I obviously swiped right. After having been on Tinder for a while with little success I deleted it on a whim, thinking I should really meet a person the old fashioned way, slightly intoxicated at a bar. After a dull two weeks, I re-downloaded the app only to find the following romantic opening line waiting in my inbox: “so you run a lot?”. We chatted for a few days on Tinder before he said “I’m sorry if this is too forward but here is my number, text me, I can’t stand this Tinder thing”.
After texting for a few days, we decided to meet up after work. Coincidentally, it turned out that we worked on the same block, him as a director’s assistant at David Letterman and me as a dresser at the revival of “Cabaret”. While Roman waited for me outside the Studio 54 stage door, I took a shot in my girlfriend Gayle’s dressing room (I look back fondly at all the times Gayle and I HAD to do shots before we went on failed attempts at dates). To back up a bit, almost all my life I’ve had long naturally blonde hair. I went through a brief identity crisis and chopped all my hair off and dyed it platinum blonde. This happens to be when Roman met me. I came out of the stage door with a guitar on my back and a beany covering my platinum pixie cut. He says when he saw me thought I was a super cool guitar playing hipster, little did he know I was shakin’ in ma boots.
We walked to a trashy sports bar and on the way he kept accidentally bumping into me. I later found out he had already been drinking for a few hours with friends. I’m pretty shocked he still liked me after that evening because it seemed like I was determined to sabotage myself by telling him all the horrible things I had done within the last few months. Regardless, we saw each other two days later.
It wasn’t love at first sight but it was love at second sight if that’s a thing. Our second date started at Greenwich Tree House. As soon as I sat down with him I felt comfortable like I was home. We chatted for a bit and then walked over to the Village Vanguard. Sitting next to him and listening to a big brass band play, I felt like I was sitting next to someone I had known all my life.
The great thing about Roman is he is the perfect mix of everything. He’s certainly not a bad boy which I’m grateful for, but he isn’t the gross kind of nice either. He’s one of the most ambitious people I know and therefore is quite successful at everything he tries to do. He’s kind and loving and always helps me to try to “be a better person” as cliche as that sounds. He cares immensely about his amazing family which translates into caring about mine as well. All that plus he’s more handsome than Robert Pattinson and Rufus Wainright combined (and he gets that a lot).
As I’ve tried to think about different things I could write about in this here blog, Roman kept (jokingly) saying “why don’t you write about me!?” My response kept being “because I’m an independent woman and my life isn’t all about having a boyfriend!” I was joking when I said that but the truth is, I’ve grown up in an age where being a “strong woman” who doesn’t prioritize romantic relationships is not only fashionable but sometimes imperative. I was raised to dream about my career instead of my future husband, and I did. But no matter what happens in my career, no matter where I live, no matter how much money I have, I’ll be happy if Roman is there with me. And I think being able to say that still allows me to be an “independent woman”.