Kiss The Frog(s)

I’ve talked to my therapist at length about my dating history.

“You have to kiss a lot of frogs,” she said at the end of one session.


(This is my latest standup joke…I didn’t really sleep with all the frogs, Mom).

You don’t get to be single as long as I have without a “colorful” relationship history. I have kissed a lot of frogs.  Some now live in marital bliss (as witnessed on Facebook), others have fallen off the grid, one died, another went a little cray, but all have one thing in common: they just weren’t the right “frog/prince” for me. Here are a few quick profiles:

Frog #1:  Part of the reason I’ve remained single might be due to the fact that I’ve always had a weakness for the Bad Boy.  The first guy I ever “made out with” (not sure what you call it) is now in jail for murder.  (He wasn’t this bad in 7th grade.  I, however, was severely lacking in parental supervision.)  So, no, I did not accept his a Facebook friend invite.  (In the “joke” version of this anecdote I say, “but we are connected on LinkedIn.” Boom? Not sure if it’s a keeper).

Frogs #4-5: (Skipping high school.) Things got better in college due, in part, to the competitive Ivy League filtering system.  Freshman year turned up a solid crop of smart, white guys in plaid flannel shirts and hole-filled jeans who smoked weed in order to rebel against their LL Bean childhoods and not because their father disappeared when they were 8.  Unfortunately, at 22, I hardly felt the need to settle down. However, some of my female classmates nabbed future power brokers like a 1950’s sorority girl.

Frog #6: Great guy.  Damn.

Frog #7: College Boyfriend Frog provided some badly needed structure for me, as well as  lots of beer-filled nights (haha…actually, I and my best friend provided those just fine) and intramural sporting opportunities. Ultimately, he didn’t understand my creative, artsy-fartsy, “I-need-to-express-myself-or-I’ll-die,” quasi-theater geek side.  To be fair, neither do I.

Frog #10: (I’m skipping a few more). Lawyer Frog kicked some legal ass at 33, and today most likely represents movie stars and the 1%.    Brilliant mind, great heart, and (I believe) he genuinely loved me.  Nonetheless, he was/is another woman’s frog/prince.  Even at 28, I wasn’t close to being “wife” material. However, if I married him, I would probably have a cool house, some kids, and would definitely be Jewish by now….(Boom?).

Frog #11: (These numbers are arbitrary).  I dated the guy who sold me my couch.  Furniture Frog felt very solid to me, like a big oak dining table. I’m not sure why it didn’t work out (except he’ll probably vote for Romney), but it wasn’t meant to be.  Amazingly, we are still friends and I sometimes give him salsa dancing lessons.

Frog #12: Ok, so this guy set me back a little. Sometimes we have to learn some hard lessons about our own capacity for “denial” and something called “gut instincts.”  I’ll just say that things with Out Of Denial Frog didn’t work out.  Bad Boys have stopped seeming attractive.

Frog #12: Salsa dancing.  (I wrote a book on this…someday I’ll publish it on Amazon).

And here we are.  I hope I’m done.

Just for today, I think I’ve kissed enough frogs.



This entry was posted in Love, Marriage, Relationships, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Comments are closed.