So I did a thing. In 2005 I found myself single in the city and realizing that I had gone about my life pretty much all wrong. Sure I'd traveled the country, lived in amazing places, met wonderful people, and had my share of disappointments, but there was one major thing lacking (aside from a commitment to a career): relationshopping.

Also known as "dating." Yes, that's a word now.

I spent my early adult-ish life hopping from one relationship to another, some long-term and some shorter, but never doing anything remotely resembling going on dates, dating, or having carefree fun. I was just getting completely, irrevocably, deeply involved within nanoseconds of meeting a woman and along with that came serious responsibilities.

I can hand you a dozen roses worth of excuses for why this kept happening - living in a rural New England state with a dearth of anything resembling obviously lesbian women (or the only available ones had already slept with everyone I knew); being generally unfit, emotionally, to have one-night stands or casual sex (not my bag, and there's a general acceptance that a lot of dating involves having sex - newsflash, it doesn't always and there's nothing wrong with that); longing for the kind of relationship that feels like a comfy pair of socks (a long-held dream and visualization that requires more work than I ever thought necessary).

Being generally pretty clever but not always on the ball with my own inner space, I finally cottoned on to the fact that I couldn't do what I'd always done and expect to get different results.