5 Things I Don’t Want My Husband To Find Out From Our Joint Account


Every long term relationship comes to a point where finances are discussed. Whether it be separate accounts, joint accounts, or a combination – each have their own pros and cons that couples must weigh up, and hopefully reach a mutual agreement.

I’ve never had a joint account, so when my husband and I had the ‘money talk’, I was horrified by the thought of having a shared account. The reason? I think how a person spends money says a lot about them, and the idea of the man I love knowing each and every detail of when, where, how, and what I spend money on… well it kinda freaked me out!

Here are five things I don’t want my husband to find out from our joint account:

How many books I buy 

When we were still dating and my husband came over, my bookshelf was something I proudly showed off to him. Look at me, look at how cultured, educated, socially aware, and intellectual I am.

Now that we are married, I think it’s starting to dawn on him that his wife spends more time buying books than reading them.

I just can’t help myself! I go online to buy a book, and as I make my purchase I see ‘If you like this book, you’ll also like X’. I click to see X, and the next thing I know I’m buying X, Y, Z. 

All these books, and the most cultured thing I say to my husband comes from Facebook and goes something like ‘Baby! Check out this new type of pizza that has another pizza on top of it!’

How much I spend to ‘look beautiful’ 

Ladies, I know you feel me. We spend tons of money to look the way we look! I pay to get my hair, nails, and eye brows done. Plus all the products required for my hair, face, and body. I mean, there’s a pre-moisturiser that you apply before your actual moisturiser, and a leave-on conditioner that goes after the conditioner. And all the oils. So. Many. Oils.

On top of that, I pay for two gym memberships AND those online shopping ads get me every time! My recent purchase was a silicone cup thingy that’s meant to get rid of cellulite. Try explaining that to your partner when he asks what you’ve just bought!

I’d love for my husband to think I look the way I look ‘effortlessly’. That I just wake up this way. But he could take one look at our joint account and easily realise this is not the case.

Then how I ‘trash’ the above with my impulse chocolate purchases

I don’t think I need to expand on this. I might be PMSing or it’s one of those afternoons that require a pick-me-up.

While I can get rid of the wrapper, the words ‘Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups’ will forever be imprinted on our joint account.

How lazy I am 

With two gym memberships, you’d think I was fit enough to be training for the Olympics. Well, what you’d find on our joint account is the countless times that I’ve ordered an Uber to avoid a 7-minute walk.

How much coffee I consume

I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I was able to give up coffee for a couple of years. It seems those glory days are behind me, and I have ventured back to my old ways.

I’m not proud to have $4 show up every day on our joint account as evidence of my addiction. Thankfully the free cookie they give with every coffee order doesn’t show up on the account 😉

So that’s my list of shame.

What’s on your list?









A conversation

I see you got married.

That’s right, I did.

You look happy.

I am.

You even wore a fucking pink dress.

What are you so angry about?

What am I so angry about? Really? You betrayed everything that we are, and you’re asking me why I’m angry?

Look, I don’t expect you to get it. And there isn’t a ‘we’ anymore. There hasn’t been for a while.

Of course, I forgot you stopped giving a shit about me.

It’s not that I don’t give a shit about you, it’s just we’re so different now.

I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.

Well, you’re probably right, you don’t know me.

I just can’t believe you would throw everything away. Everything I created.

Everything you created? What did you actually create? You are a master of destruction. I only started to create something after I walked away from you.

Hah, you’re still stubborn, at least that didn’t change. We had big plans. And you ruined it. You ruined everything.

Oh really? I ruined your big plan? What was that big plan again.. oh that’s right, you were going to hang around for someone who wasn’t yours, push everyone away, and keep looking for the next place and person. I don’t want that life.

But you did.

Not anymore.

You sound upset. Are you angry at me?

I guess I am.


For being so stupid.

And I’m angry at you.


For forgetting me.

I didn’t forget you. I can never forget you. You were a big part of my life.

Then how come we don’t talk anymore?

Because, I don’t want your influence.

And I didn’t want your influence, but that didn’t stop you, did it?

Things are better now. I love my life. Having you around would just ruin it for me.

You don’t get it do you?


Your life is great now because of me. I dated the people that weren’t meant for you. I lived in cities that weren’t right for you. I took that shot and inhaled that smoke so that you don’t have to. Your life is a direct result of mine. And instead of thanking me for your life, all you do is ignore me and pretend I don’t exist. Guess what, I do exist. I’m there every time you look into the mirror. You can’t escape me.

I get it. You’re right, I owe you a thank you, and an apology. I’m sorry I’ve been pretending you never existed. Thank you for not loving your life, so that I could love mine.

Thank you, I appreciate you saying that. Look, I’m not here to bother you. I’m glad you’re happy, I really am. A part of me always wanted this for us.

I know.

Can I tell you something else?


I always knew we’d look good in pink.

(A conversation with my past self)


I Pretend..

Dug out another old piece.. Sadness was such a great fuel for my writing. I’m too darn happy now – I wonder if I can ever write like this again?


I pretend..
that I am fine..
that the knife stuck inside my heart is a mere decoration..
that I am invincible and unaffected by all things..

I ignore..
this brokenness deep inside of me..
the urge to call you and tell you how much I hurt
the ghost of you that follows me like a shadow..

I smile..
As a disguise
while fighting back the tears bottled up inside
Like a sad clown

I hide..
The wounds, the scars, the cracks
the blood stains seeping from my bleeding heart..
alone under my covers and enter into a dream..

I dream
Of a better day
Of someone who sees into dark corners of my mind
and loves what he finds

I learn
that heartbreaks do heal
That with every ending comes a new beginning
Even butterflies need to struggle before they can fly

I see
love all around me
in a smile, in a song
on a train

I know
love is out there
Under the big blue sky
waiting to find me



Of Fries and How To Be In The Relationship of Your Dreams (3 of 3)

Lesson #1 here. Lesson #2 here.

Lesson #3 Embracing the ‘V’ Word

Get your mind out of the gutter, guys. The ‘V’ word I’m talking about here is Vulnerability. Did anyone have some kind of physical reaction just from seeing this word? For me, this word makes my stomach churn. After so many failed relationships, it was way easier to put up a guard.

In the last couple of years, I only allowed myself to be in casual relationships, or relationships that I knew had no future. This way, I could still keep my guard. I didn’t have to be exposed to potentially being heartbroken, since I knew the relationships weren’t going to work out anyway.

But you know what happens when you keep your guard up? Sure, I managed to block out the ‘hurt’, but it also meant that the positive stuff got blocked out. My guard prevented me from melting when the men I dated showered me with compliments. It stopped me from spending the night cuddled up in their arms. And the biggest thing – it stopped me from opening up my heart and letting love in.

When a friend suggested that perhaps I should try being “vulnerable”, I almost threw up. Really – it felt like she had just punched me in the gut. No – actually, it felt worse. It was like she reached down to my guts and pulled the whole damn thing out! Being vulnerable? This word was never ever in my dictionary. How the hell does a person be vulnerable? I decided to ask the internet, and that was pretty much the question I typed into google. A TED talk by Brene Brown came up. By the way if you guys haven’t seen it, you totally should.

She describes vulnerability as the willingness to say, “I love you” first… the willingness to invest in a relationship that may or may not work out.

Yikes. Another punch in the gut. I hated the sound of all of it.

But the truth is…  here I was, wanting to be in love.. and so I thought to myself: if this V word is the key, then I’ll freakin’ try it out.

And I did.

The first thing I did was sign up to an online dating site. It was one of those real deal we-help-you-find-true-love dating sites where you had to pay and answer like a hundred questions.

Now, to some of you that might not seem like a big deal. But for me – someone who takes pride in showing the world that she’s tough and doesn’t need love – this was equivalent to admitting defeat. Hello, vulnerability!

I didn’t find love via an online dating site. (You can read about how I found love here if you haven’t already). But it played a huge part in helping me embrace the V word, and that’s what led me to finding love.

When I tell people the story of how I asked my boyfriend out, the common response is “Wow, you’re so brave!”

I can assure you that it wasn’t bravery. It was vulnerability – the willingness to put myself out there, despite knowing that there’s a chance I might get rejected.  And boy am I glad I took that risk!

So what about you guys – where are you at with embracing the V word?


We Are Meant To Be, For the Weekend

I found this piece of writing about a past lover while digging through old files. Surprisingly, I’ve never shared it, so I’m sharing it now. I love the sentiment in which it’s written. Let me know what you think.


I don’t ask who you were talking to on the phone. I don’t ask about the unopened gift box on the table – who is it for, or who is it from. I don’t ask you anything, except for the occasional ‘Are you hungry’ There’s really no point in asking, no point in knowing. What does it matter to me how you spend your time or who you spend it with? I am only here to keep you company, and I do exactly that – not more.

I lay in your arms, all curled up like a ball. You smile at me and say I look like a tiny kitten. You kiss my forehead and begin to tell me a story. This one is about a boy who goes out in search of his dreams. He has to go through many obstacles and follow the signs to get to his dreams. You tell me about ‘maktub’ and how it’s an Arabic saying for ‘it is written’. You explain that everything has been written and is meant to happen as it is. I wonder if you know what’s written for you and me, but I don’t ask, of course.

I love the sound of your voice, the way your accent makes everything sound sensual. How you casually drop French words into your conversation. You must know the effect it has on me. I especially love how your eyes light up when you tell stories. And how you paint such vivid pictures when you describe the people you knew and the places you visited. Even when you talk about your past lovers. You refer to them with immense affection and adoration. I can’t help but wonder if you would ever talk about me in such a way – even if we were never lovers.

You notice that I’m deep in thought, and ask if I’m tired of listening to your stories. I flash my best smile at you and reassure you I never get tired of your stories and that I love listening to you. You smile again and I suddenly have this urge to kiss you. I act on it, but only halfway, leaning towards you and planting a quick peck on your left cheeks.  You don’t ask me what I’m thinking about. Just like I never ask you.

I close my eyes and allow myself to relax, resting my head on your shoulders. Something builds up inside me and I am forced to blurt it out. ‘Will you miss me?, I ask. I know I shouldn’t ask, but sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me. ‘Of course’, you say, planting a reassuring kiss on my forehead. I don’t know if it’s true, and it doesn’t matter. It’s what I want to hear, and I’m happy to hear it.

That’s how it is. You say things I want to hear, and I do the same to you. We don’t talk about feelings or unresolved matters. We don’t even acknowledge them. We live in our own bubble world where there’s no need for questions or answers. No plans, no promises, no expectations. No rules, no ifs, no buts. We just are. We exist only in this moment, and we don’t go anywhere near the ‘next’ moment. The future doesn’t exist as far as we’re concerned.

We spend most of the time cracking jokes and laughing at ourselves. We make fun of movies.  We make funny sounds and imitate people’s accents. We watch funny cat videos and South park re-runs. We talk about Greek mythology and Spanish bullfighting and World War Two. We go out to bars and try all the drinks on the menu. We sing out loud on the streets. We go for dinners, too, but never anywhere that has a dress code. We enjoy the mere pleasure of each other’s company, without giving a thought as to where it will lead to.

Sometimes I see loneliness in your eyes, and I’m sure you see sadness in mine. But we never talk about it. I cannot make you less lonely, and you cannot make me less sad. I never aspire to be what you want, and you can never be what I need. I will not give you my heart, nor will I take yours. So we just be. Without thinking. Without trying. Without discussion. Tomorrow the sun will come up and we both will go our separate ways.


Of Fries and How To Be In The Relationship of Your Dreams (2 of 3)

Lesson #1 here

Lesson #2 Be in love with YOUR life

If you want to have any chance at being in the relationship of your dreams, you have to start by being in love with your life. If you feel your life is ‘crappy’, I can guarantee that even if the perfect man showed up in front of your door, it wouldn’t make any difference.

In the past I had always ‘tolerated’ life. I didn’t particular like a lot of things about my life, and I didn’t do much to change it. Instead, I expected the men I dated would come and ‘rescue’ me from life. If I can just find the man of my dreams, I thought, then my life will be happy.

Newsflash: It doesn’t work that way at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Last year, I decided it was time for me to create the kind of life that I love. I looked at every area of my life – career, health, hobbies, family, friendship, travel, relationships, etc and took responsibility for making each area fulfilling for me. One by one until I could finally wake up and say that I love my life.

It’s no coincidence that I found the man of my dreams in the process of creating the life I love. And the coolest thing is that for the first time, I didn’t want him to rescue me or listen to my complaints or sob story. He wasn’t my ‘escape’ from life. He was part of my life – a life that I love.

So before hunting down for the perfect man, take a look at your life and ask yourself: Am I in love with it? If the answer is no, then it’s time YOU start creating the kind of life you’d love. Once you’ve done that, the relationship of your dreams will be just around the corner.


Of Fries, The Perfect Brunch, and The Perfect Man Part V (Final)

Part I here. Part II here. Part III here. Part IV here.

I said what I had to say, and then sat there in silence. The ball was now in his court. He turned to look at me and said “Okay, well I think you’re really great and cute too..” I held my breath waiting for a BIG ‘but’. “And,” he continued, “I’d like to see where this goes too”. I nearly jumped with joy! In fact, my initial response was that of disbelief. I responded with “Really??”

The next day, we agreed to go for a bite after our class. There weren’t many places opened at that hour, so we settled for McDonald’s. I was more nervous than usual, and I knew it was because I really liked Mr. V and wanted it to work.

I made a joke about how when our mutual friend offered to set him up on a date, I was almost tempted to blow off the whole thing and not say anything to him. His response was that while he was glad I didn’t do that, he was still interested in exploring the world of dating. He asked if I would be okay with that, and I’ll admit it stung a little, but I played it cool and responded with “Yeah, sure”. He asked if I wanted him to tell me when he went on dates. I said I did. Then he asked if I would do the same. I told him he didn’t need to worry about that because I wasn’t interested in dating anyone else.

Eventually we moved on to other topics, and all in all we had a good time, but when I came home that night, I knew I wasn’t okay.

The next day, what he said still weighed heavily on me and I couldn’t let it go. I asked him to call me when he could, and when he did, I told him I wasn’t okay with this arrangement. I gave him two choices: Either be all in, or we stay friends. There was a moment of silence, and I could tell he was caught off guard by this ultimatum. He said he liked me a lot and really wanted to explore where things could go with me, but that he also needed to be true to himself. With that said, he chose being friends.

I was extremely disappointed, but again pretended to be cool. For the rest of the day, I kept wondering whether I did the right thing. I had broken up with men before, and each time I had been sad and hurt, but I was not familiar with such sense of loss and disappointment. It didn’t make any sense for me to be this upset – we hadn’t even started dating yet!

Later that night, we both realized there were things left unsaid, so we spoke on the phone again.

He asked me what I was afraid of, and I told him I didn’t want to re-live my past of being with men who dated different girls at the same time. I said I was done with all that, and I wanted to be in a committed relationship now.

He said he didn’t want to have multiple partners, and that he was looking for a committed relationship too. He also said he wasn’t dating anyone at the moment and reassured me that the connection he had with me exceeded what he’s had so far with other girls. And that I could be the one. But I was asking him to sign an exclusivity contract and we haven’t even started dating yet. That wasn’t something he was comfortable doing at this stage.

When he put it that way, it got me thinking. He was absolutely right. Why was I forcing him into an exclusive relationship when we haven’t even been on a first date? And why was I already approaching this from a relationship context? We were just starting to date. The whole point of dating is to get to know one another and see if we want to take things forward. Why did I want to skip all that?

I realized it was all to do with my fears and insecurities. I was afraid of losing him, and so the only thing I could think to do was to ‘lock’ him into a relationship. When I understood what I was doing, I wanted to laugh because I’ve dated guys who had tried to get me to commit from the very start, and I had pushed them away saying they were too clingy and desperate. Now I was doing the exact same thing.

Once I came to this realization, I immediately felt lighter. I told him I understood where he was coming from and that he was right. I took back my ultimatum and asked that we revisit this conversation again – perhaps in a month’s time – to which he agreed.

And so he took me out on our first official date.

He met me at the train station and held my hand as we walked towards the bar he picked. I usually try to keep physical contact to the minimum on first dates, but it felt natural and comfortable to hold his hand, so I didn’t object.

We got a table in a more quiet and private corner of the bar. It was perfect because we could talk without having to shout over the music, but still could hear the music and had direct view of the live band.  We talked about all sorts of things, danced a bit, and every now and then he would place his hand on my knee. It was by far the best date I’ve had.

At one point when we were both quiet, I turned and asked him “What are you thinking about?” To which he responded with “Why don’t I show you?” and proceeded to kiss me.

Now, I was never one to believe in magical, fairy tale-like kisses. In fact, I found first kisses to be awkward and sloppy. But… that kiss… I kid you not – it was the best kiss I’ve had in my entire life.

I used to ask couples how they knew they were right for each other, and always heard the same response: “You just know”. I never understood what they meant by that.

That night, I finally understood. As my head rested on his shoulders after that fairy tale-like kiss, I just knew. It was weird and crazy and surreal – at the same time exhilarating and magical.

Our second date was a week later and equally wonderful – he took me on a motorcycle ride and a stroll along the beach, followed by food and ice-cream 🙂

While I was over the moon, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was dating other girls. He said he would be honest with me, and he hasn’t said anything up until then, so I guess there was nothing to worry about. But there was a part of me that was scared. I was falling hard for this man and a part of me wanted to hold back because there was a possibility that he’d hit it off with someone else.

A couple of days after our second date, he said he needed to talk to me and pulled me aside after class. He looked me straight in the eyes, and said in a serious tone “I’m in”. I didn’t get what he meant, so I gave him a confused look and asked “In what?”. He repeated again “I’m in”. I still didn’t get what he was talking about. Finally, he said “This relationship. I’m in. I don’t want to be in it half-way anymore, I want to be in it fully”. I was so excited and I couldn’t contain myself!  “Reaallllllllllllllyyyy??” I squealed. “Yes, really” he said with a reassuring smile. He then took out his phone and deleted the Tinder app. In that moment, he made me the happiest girl alive.

And here we are, five months later, I’m still the happiest girl alive 🙂

I hope you guys enjoyed reading my story, and rest assured there are more stories to follow.

In the next blog post, I’ll be sharing lessons I learned on how to be in the relationship of your dreams. Stay tuned!

Of Fries, The Perfect Brunch, and The Perfect Man Part IV

Part I here. Part II here. Part III here.

First of all, I have to apologize for disappearing. I could blame it on the holidays, but that’s really not the reason why I didn’t write. The real reason I didn’t write was because I was afraid. I was afraid my writing wouldn’t do justice to this amazing man I met. I was afraid my writing wouldn’t be..well.. perfect.

I had a conversation with someone about this, and he said something quite eye-opening for me. He said perfection exists when you have a barometer in which you measure it, usually against a precedent. But when you’re creating something new, there’s no precedent. How can you measure something that’s never been created before? By which standards would you measure it against? And if you can’t measure it, how can perfection exist?

The conversation happened so casually, but it’s one of those conversations I know I’d never forget because it completely altered the way I view the writing process.

Anyway, let’s get back to the story, shall we?

After I broke it off with T, my attraction towards Mr V started to grow. I remember an instance where we were talking, and I couldn’t hear a word he was saying because I was too distracted by his lips and kept picturing what it would be like to kiss him. I also recall gazing into his brown eyes as he was talking, and feeling like I was completely drawn to them. To him.

This was a really weird experience for me. It’s only been a month or so since we started talking, yet the attraction was so strong. And it wasn’t just lustful or superficial. There was more to it than physical attraction. In that split second, I knew I couldn’t dismiss it without exploring what “this” was. Only problem was, did he feel the same way too?

I knew he liked blondes. It came up in one of our conversations. In fact, there was a girl he’d been talking to. She was blonde. And a nurse. There was no way I could compete with that!

Don’t get me wrong, I know I can flirt and be charming. I could spend a bit more time getting to know him and figure out what makes him tick. It’s a strategy that’s worked well for me in the past. But I wasn’t interested in coming up with a plan to ‘charm’ Mr V. I didn’t want this to be another one of my ‘missions’ i.e. get the guy to fall for me and once he does – mission accomplished. I was genuinely interested in Mr V, and I really wanted him to like me. Without the seduction, without the flirtation, just me.

Over the next few weeks, we continued to meet in class. We talked on the phone every now and then, and he sometimes gave me a ride to the train station after class. One night while giving me a ride, he showed me a photo of a girl that he was planning to go on a date with. I took a quick look at her photo and almost squealed with excitement. She had dark skin and black hair – in fact she looked Indian or similar. If he’s dating Indian-looking girls, then I definitely have a chance! And, the best part, I looked way cuter than her! There was a part of me that was a bit annoyed though. If he was willing to date her, then surely he could date me – so why hasn’t he asked me out already??

That date didn’t end up happening, and I silently celebrated when I found out. At the same time, I realized he could easily find another date. Worse yet, what if they hit it off? What would I do then? Stay in the friend zone and wait around for him to realize he wanted me all along? I definitely didn’t want to go down that path. So, what was I going to do about it? Since charm and flirtation were off the table, there was really only one way: Yep, I have to actually tell him how I feel. Oh gosh. As much as it made me cringe and turned my stomach into knots, I knew there was no other way. I had to tell him, and I had to do it soon.

2 weeks, 1 overseas trip, a million pep talks from my friends and sisters, and 2 tattoos later, I finally mustered the courage to send him the “let’s talk” message. I said I had something to tell / ask him, and that I’d like to do it face to face. We would be meeting at the leadership course that night, so we agreed to talk afterwards.

At the end of the night, he said he’d give me a ride so we could talk in the car. As we headed out to the parking lot, we stopped to have a conversation with some mutual friends, one of which said to Mr V “Hey, aren’t you like looking for a date? I’ve got this friend I’d love to set you up with!” I was horrified but of course pretended to be cool. I stood there thinking Damn it, can you guys just shut up!

Luckily he didn’t seem all that excited by the idea, and we finally walked towards his car. I started rambling on about random things – which is what I do when I’m nervous.

We get to his car, and here I am, fidgeting in the passenger’s seat, my hands are clammy, my heart is racing a thousand miles an hour, and my stomach is doing cartwheels. He, on the other hand, appears to be calm and collected as he slowly drives out of the parking lot. I try my best at pretending to be cool and in the process make a random joke – to which he responds with a light chuckle.

In my head, I work up the courage to tell him, and then talk myself out of it, over and over again. This goes on for what seems like hours, until he interrupts my thought process “So, let’s get this difficult conversation out of the way”, he says. “Difficult conversation?” I ask, still trying to play it cool. “Well, you said there’s something you wanted to tell me. What is it?”, he asks. Shit, quick, make something up! I can’t think of anything, so what comes out of my mouth is a bunch of Ums and Uhs. I mentally kick myself in the butt and decide to go for it.

“Okay so”, I start off “I know we don’t know each other that well yet… “ I pause and take a deep breath. No turning back now. “…but from what I know of you so far… I really like” I continue talking and avoid any eye contact with him “So, I just wanted to say that I like you.. I think you’re cute..  and I’d love to see where this goes…” I can feel my face turning red  “Anddddd .. that’s it… I’m gonna shut up now” I quickly finish up, still avoiding eye contact. OMG. I can’t believe I did it. I hold my breath and wait for his response.

Final part here

Of Fries, The Perfect Brunch, and The Perfect Man Part III

Part I here.  Part II here.

Ironically, I had started dating an Indian guy at the time. Let’s call him T.

T approached me on the street as I was walking home one night. I was thrown off guard and didn’t find him particularly attractive, and it didn’t help that he was Indian. But he seemed harmless, and I’d just been on two bad dates in a row, so I figured I had nothing to lose and gave him my number.

We exchanged some messages and he sounded like a decent guy, so I gave it a shot and went on a date with him. If I was being really honest with myself, I was kind of hoping it was one of those scenes from a movie where one finds love in the most bizarre, random way. I mean, what a cool story to tell people that I found love on the street- literally! I had already created this perfect story in my head, with a fairy-tale happy ending – all before I even started dating him.

In a way, it’s like I was idealizing an order of fries – imagining how heavenly they would taste, thinking these would be the perfect fries – before even actually having a taste.

So we went on a date. Although we had a good conversation, there was no chemistry on my part. The fries didn’t taste as good as I imagined them to. But…. I really wanted to believe in that story. I wanted him to be the perfect fries. So I continued dating T, with the hopes that I’ll wake up one day and the ‘feeling’ will hit me. Except, each fry that I put in my mouth didn’t taste better than the previous one. Each date I went on with him didn’t change the way I felt.

Three weeks into the so-called relationship and I was frustrated, exhausted, and nowhere near to feeling anything. I didn’t even want him to kiss me.

During this three-week period, Mr V and I started talking. I guess after seeing him in a different light, I let my guard down and naturally became friendlier towards him. I even fessed up to him about why I’d been ignoring him. We started off talking about the leadership program, and the conversation flowed naturally onto other things. I was surprised to learn that we have a lot of things in common i.e. he too enjoys writing and poetry. We also began exchanging stories from our dating adventures.

I shared with him the whole situation with T. Our mutual friends encouraged me to push through and make it work, and I asked him what he thought. I remember his response so clearly because it made a huge difference to me. He said he comes from a school of thought that deep down, you know what you want. He also assured me that whatever I choose is the ‘right’ choice, and there is no ‘wrong’ choice. It was really just up to me.

What he said made me realized that I knew the answer all along. All I had to do was apply the lessons I’d learn from the past: trust my instinct, and if the fries don’t taste good, then I don’t have to force myself to finish it!

And with that, I broke it off with T. Although I was relieved and had no regrets about my decision, there was a part of me that started questioning myself. Am I just hopeless with relationships? Should I stop trying? Am I ever going to find that person?

Little did I know, that person was already right there 🙂

Part IV here

Of Fries, The Perfect Brunch, and The Perfect Man Part II

For those of you who read Part I and have been waiting to find out how the perfect brunch relates to meeting the perfect man…  here is Part II

It was March this year, and I had just enrolled into a seven-month leadership program. On day one, I see this skinny, average-looking Indian man (let’s call him Mr V). He was wearing glasses, a light-pink, long sleeve button-down shirt, and black trousers. He had neck-length hair which he tied up into a smal pony tail. He appeared well-mannered and friendly. We exchanged a few polite words in the kitchen while he ate Daal (I assume that’s what it was) from his lunchbox.

During those few seconds of interacting with him, I was busy mentally assessing him and had decided that he was one of those goody-two-shoes, entitled Indian boy. And what was up with him being so nice and helpful? Who’s he trying to impress? Not to mention the fact that I had a no-Indian men policy. Dated them before and it’s pretty much been a no-go zone for the past 10 years.

My cocky self also decided that since Indian men tend to fall for me (well, is it considered cocky if it’s true? :P), I’d better not interact with this guy much or he might think he has a chance.

So I spent the next four months of the program pretty much ignoring him. It was a class of about 20 people, and I was friendly towards everyone except him. I was civil towards him and exchanged pleasantries, but I made sure our conversations never lasted longer than a minute, and that we were never seated next to each other.

Everyone seemed to like him and only had good things to say about him – which annoyed me even more because come on, don’t they know that no one is that great? He could be a sociopath for all we know!

Fast forward to one fine day in July.

It’s 10 minutes before class and I’m walking through the hallway to get to class. Mr V was standing there, and I almost didn’t recognize him because he had gotten a haircut. When I finally realized that it was him, I could feel my jaws drop. He looked so good I literally could not stop staring at him!

Not surprisingly, I started taking more notice of him from that day on and found myself being impressed by the things he’d share in class. I began to see him as a nice person, and now that I saw him as attractive, my cockiness disappeared and was replaced by insecurity and doubts. He probably has girls throwing themselves at him. Plus, he’s a nice guy. I’m not a nice girl so he probably wouldn’t want to date me anyway. He’s probably looking for a meek Indian girl to become his house-wife, and that’s definitely not my cup of tea.

Fine, I’ll admit he’s nice and cute (and has a reallllly nice butt!), but there was no way it was going to work out between us. All he can be is my eye-candy when I’m in class.

During this time, I’ve come off my 6-month men-tox and started dating again.

Part III here.

Blog at WordPress.com.