When I was 33 or so, I realized I wanted to be married. So I enlisted professional help: I decided to read all the top-selling dating books from The Rules to If Buddha Dated. I figured the authors sold tons of books so something they’re saying must be reasonable, right? Right. I admit that reading some of the old fashioned, insulting advice was often sickening. But every book, even The Rules*, had at least one pearl I could take along with me as I developed my strategy for Project Husband.
Exactly half of the dating books I read say you have to make a list of exactly what you want and don’t budge from it. The other half said to have an idea of what you’re looking for but be open to possibilities. I took the advice from both sides and made my list. I narrowed it down to seven items I couldn’t live without: a smart, social, successful, sophisticated, soulful man who was into being Jewish and into the idea of family. I made sure words like “successful” could be intentionally vague—I didn’t attach a dollar value or a specific profession. I used my hour-long commute each day to check and recheck myself to make sure this really was my hard stop list.
I also rehearsed my list on those commutes so I could rattle it off whenever I told anyone I met what I wanted when I asked them to fix me up. I created an “elevator pitch” for my perfect man. My only caution of this practice is, be very careful what you wish for because my husband is all of those things, down to the soulful part.
At any rate, making your list is a good exercise in visualization. By creating the seven-attribute composite of my man, I was able to piece together where I might find him and what he might be like. Fortunately, my brother found him for me and fixed us up and the rest, as they say, is my history.
*The pearl I gleaned from The Rules’ is: everyone wants to be pursued. Cracked as most of this book is, that rule segues nicely into He’s Just Not That Into You, which basically says, if he ain’t pursuing you then he ain’t interested.
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