You’ll “Just Know” When You Meet the one who is Bullsh*t

When I was 25, I fell for a French artist. I had never felt such intense feelings before thought he was the one. After I bought us an apartment, he came home one day and dumped me, telling me he “stopped feeling butterflies.”

When I was 29, I was in a relationship with a man who I thought would get married and have a happily ever after. My entire life plan was set. I knew he was the one. But then he cheated on me.

At the age of 33, I got into a relationship after falling in love with my camper buddy at my first Burning Man. We quickly got serious and talked about our future and family. This time I was sure, he was the one. Later I found out that he was cheating on me all the time.

At the age of 37 I met my partner. By this time, I don’t believe in that one.

While I’ve only had a few serious boyfriends, there are dozens of people in between. From first dates, to month-long romances, to the ones that start and end like a broken record, with the same song playing for years. My dating life was like that of a revolving door, and every time a budding relationship didn’t materialize, I wondered if there was something fundamentally wrong with me.

Some people say it’s up to fate. Maybe I had no say in how often my heart broke. Perhaps there was nothing I could have done to change my romantic future, no matter how many psychics I visited.

Some say love happens when you aren’t looking for it. I have questioned this logic. While I understand that desperately seeking love is unhealthy, I think this statement creates more shame than it provides a solution. Most people are wired and want to connect. Of course, there are times when romance isn’t a priority, but it’s completely normal to want someone and therefore look for someone to connect with.

And then there are people who say: you ‘just know’ when you meet your person.

From falling in love to falling in love

I met my current partner and all the myths I’ve heard about how to meet the one don’t apply to me.

I don’t think it was fate that I was on a dating app. I was definitely looking (hence the dating app). And while it’s a beautiful, evolving, stable partnership that we’ve built, I don’t have that all-consuming, bet-your-life-on-just-know-it feeling.

Maybe it’s because my history of choosing the wrong people from a place where I’ve been hurt has something to do with it. Because I swear I just knew every time I had a romance at Burning Man, oh and let’s not forget that British guy who had four kids and lived on another continent and who I also swore, “This one is different.”

My track record doesn’t make me put much stock in my ‘just know’ meter.

And even if I don’t have the “I just know” belief, what I do know is that I can choose – to choose him, to choose the partnership, even if my feelings du jour tell me otherwise. I am aware of my past response patterns to any conflict by automatically thinking it is over and looking for an exit strategy to protect my heart. I can see this when it’s happening and choose not to let it take me on the intimacy-sabotaging roller coaster. It’s damn hard sometimes, my doubts, negative thoughts and catastrophic hypothetical situations can feel so real.

I feel the pleasure chemicals gradually seeping out of me as my rose-colored glasses clear and I see the oil slicks and dirt on the lens. Oh, he’s not perfect. Oh, his pizza obsession isn’t so cute anymore. I see this completely imperfect human being and the foundation we are building, and I choose connection every day. I don’t say forever because I don’t think I believe in that word anymore.

My tastes much prefer reality to romance these days.

I’ve thrown my destiny cards out the window and left my romantic destiny to good old fashioned hard work. The things they don’t show in the movies because it would be too boring. Maintenance. Stake. Making an effort even when you don’t have the chemical momentum of lust to motivate you. Choosing love. Communicate like an adult. Have difficult conversations. Allowing yourself to be seen. Seeing someone as the person he or she is, and not as a projected fantasy of what you want him or her to be.

Perhaps that has been the lesson of fate for me all along.