The Single Writer

I spoke with a woman at my yoga studio yesterday. She’s older than me, I think she just turned 60 or 61. She’s sweet. Has an accent like my Aunt from Brooklyn and hates when people throw trash out the window of their cars. She said to me that she was determined to stay single the rest of her life. She’d been married before and had two kids. But if she could manage alone, she was going to live by herself. Stay single. Just date. Not settle again. It made me pause. It made me question my recent “love” motives. I used to think that if I had a good job, I’d find a good guy. I have had a good job for 12 years. And I have had a fantastic job that I love in writing the last 10 years. But I haven’t found a “good” guy to match my soul. I’m not looking for the greatest guy. Just a guy who “matches me”—strength for strength, soul for soul. Someone I can learn from and push hard to learn from me. Someone who doesn’t cling and is not desperate. Someone who can let me go when I need them to… someone like me.

I read an article a few months ago, entitled Don’t Date a Girl who Travels. It is a fantastic article that’s been translated into multiple languages and re-posted around the world. Like the woman who wrote the article, I am hard to love… meaning I don’t stay still long enough to be the girl you would want to fall in love with because I am always on the go, always doing something. The only thing I love right now is to travel and write. I’m creative; an imagineer, if you will. I create people and scenes, worlds and histories. I’m a novelist. I create characters I would want to be friends with, places I would want to visit. I certainly go with the flow and follow my own heart… I don’t plan anything but the destination—not where I’m staying or what I’m doing when I get there. I don’t wear a watch. I could reiterate the entire article, but just go ahead a read it. It really does describe me to a ‘T.’

My favorite line is the last one: “So never date a girl who travels unless you can keep up with her. And if you unintentionally fall in love with one, don’t you dare keep her. Let her go.” – Adi,

I love that article, posted first by my friend and yoga instructor, Dimitra, and later by myself. She, I know is like this as well. Both of us with wild, but big and giving hearts. That article I posted, again, on my personal facebook page a few weeks ago. I told my friends: if you ever wanted to know about me, to read it. It was me. It was my life. My passion: traveling and writing. Being paid to write about traveling would be my ideal job (in fact, I should start looking for that job).

I haven’t dated much at all. I write. I travel. I haven’t gone to nearly the number of places I’ve wanted to go yet, but I push. I am always saving money for traveling. I am always putting my dreams on paper. I carry a list of the places I want to visit in my wallet, so every time I go to buy something, I look at those bright neon green note cards and I pause and think about actually purchasing what I’m getting: is what I want now worth it to not save that money for, say, going to see the black rock formations and yellow dunes of the Akakus Mountains in Libya? Or the “land of fire and ice” in Kamchatka, Russia?

Green Card travel

Travel Card. Bright green. Save the green.









I never thought about dating much until I saw all my high school friends getting hitched or having kids… or their 6th kid. I never wanted to settle down, but the bug is there. It’s tiny. However, I can see, through my friends who are just like me, that you can do both. You can travel and have a family. You can fall in love and see the world.

And you can fall in love with the world. If you see enough of it.


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