Lessons from a lover

A strong case for a summer lover

It’s been a fun, hot summer. Talk about abundance mindset, because this summer has been one for the books. I started dating just as summer kicked off with a simple mindset: be open, be kind, have fun. Apps, intros, IRL. I did it all and I’ve genuinely enjoyed it. I went on a record breaking ten first dates in a very short amount of time, but that’s what this summer was all about. To be wined and dined, to have hot make outs, to get dressed up, to giggle, and to romanticize being single in my prime. And that doesn’t even count the second, third, and fourth dates that followed the original ten. It took master-level organizing, but I pulled it off and I had way too much fun.

I’m writing in past tense because, naturally, after a spree like that, one must recharge and reset. Summer dating is officially over by choice. It’s time to be the ultimate girl again, meaning a weeklong of low key activities such as: a haircut to snip away sun scorched ends, a facial that will surely extract gin martinis, eyebrows that desperately need a lamination. Being a woman is no joke. So until September, I’m lying low. Working, sleeping, restoring. With the exception, of a very important Leo birthday and Virgo birthday (hello Virgo season!!). If I say I’m unavailable in the next couple of weeks, it’s technically true… mostly.

Unpopular opinion, but I’m really enjoying dating at 35. Yes, I spend a decent amount of time reminding myself I’m ‘right on time’ with the occasional ‘fuck societal norms’ with a daily appreciation of enjoying a pristine, man-less kitchen while cursing that it ‘would be nice’ to not take out the trash. As they say, when you’re happy alone and find happiness from within is when the magic falls from the sky.

But what I really want to share is what I learned from one particular man this summer. I met him in a group setting and I never put any pressure on our fling to grow into something more. I didn’t even consider him to be someone I’d actually date, yet here I am writing an entire Substack about what this great man taught me about myself by barely even dating him. He was, in a sense… my lover.

The thing about a lover is that you’re supposed to go into it knowing exactly what it is. There’s no room for confusion or games with a lover. Communication is key, but the golden key is having the willpower to end it with said lover when your feelings inevitably move toward “fuck, I wish this were more.” Bonus points if you can dodge any sort of delusion that it could ever be. I knew my emotional clock would strike at some point fairly quickly, so I promised myself I’d walk away once it did.

And that’s precisely why I’m not great at being a lover. I blame my human design as a goddamn Scorpio moon with big emotions and a protective heart. At my core, I am “a lover,” but not in the way I’m describing here. Between the ten other suitors, there was always this guy — a constant. I jokingly refused to call him my lover, even communicated it, but I carried on anyway. Eventually, the fun gave way to tiny pangs of anxiety. I started falling into old patterns and I knew I had to pull the plug. I had no problem going on one, two, or three dates with some of these men to suss out if they were a fit for me, but usually by date three (sometimes even after date one if they were an asshole), I sent “the text.”

People can be so black and white with their unsolicited dating advice. Does every person you meet have to check every box by date three? People are so quick to tell you to not “waste your time” on someone who doesn’t. In some instances, I might agree, but after this experience, I believe in the value of a gray area as long as it’s paired with self-respect and willpower. With this man, I knew he didn’t want kids. A dealbreaker for my “boxes.” So why continue? I certainly wasn’t dating him out of boredom, but dating him because I genuinely loved being around him: the ease, the fun, the conversation, the chemistry. Marriage and children were never the point. The point was to have fun. The point was closing down restaurants. The point was temporary companionship. And shouldn’t that be more widely accepted versus only having the endgame in mind?

And he set the bar high in every category. Higher than I’ve allowed myself in the past. He showed me both what I don’t want and what I absolutely do. He showed me glimpses of security and masculinity in a way that let me fully step into my feminine. I practiced listening without trying to fix. He would praise my relaxed behavior, which made me laugh because my best friends call me “Captain Kitty” for my Type A, survival-driven ways.

I’m not sure I fully understood compatibility until now, to be honest. I refused to believe that I wasn’t compatible with my exes. It’s not about whether two people seem like a good match on paper, but about who you become when you’re with them. For him to see me at ease, calm, unguarded… that lesson alone was worth it all.

A lover, at best, is about mutual respect. Wishing them well, wanting their happiness, their freedom, their success. It’s knowing that you’ll be friends again one day because you had each other’s best interest at heart and you were honest from the start. It all sounds a bit dramatic for someone I didn’t know long, but we’re allowed to mourn who someone was to us, even briefly, as a lover.

In the end, I chose myself. I walked away to create space for something more aligned. I teared up on my drive home from his house. It took me by surprise at first, but then I just let it roll. I think I was partly proud of myself for having that hard conversation, but also sad that I won’t have this person in my life for now.

As of today, the summer roster is officially cleared. I’m off to Italy in a couple weeks for my dear friends’ wedding, and I can’t wait to frolic around Rome and Florence before and after the wedding alone.

So yes, turns out I am capable of being a (very short-term) lover after all. In fact, I highly recommend it. And yes, I am sharing this love letter to my lover, who I will always be grateful for.

Ciao ciao, besos besos, my beautiful LOVERS. See you in Italy x

Love, CAT

via Pinterest