It’s a mystery how two souls ever find one another and why we must go through heartbreaks and missteps to find The One meant for especially for us and us alone.
The beautiful and incomparable Yuliya of She Suggests is my guest this week with a letter to her younger self about finding her special mate, pickled herring eater that he is.
Dear Head Over Heels,
Love is confusing and I am here to help you navigate those stormy seas. Let’s look back at your love life through the years to help you find The One.
You’re 16 and you’re in love.
You steal breathless kisses behind the soccer field (because behind the football bleachers is a total cliche) You exchange handwritten novel sized letters of devotion. Saying goodnight on the phone proves impossible and you cradle the receiver all night syncing your breathing to his.
You have so much in common. Like your mutual love of jazz, (even though you sort of don’t get it.) Your mutual obsession with poetry (even though you sort of don’t get it.) And your mutual adoration of his brilliant mind (even though you sort of don’t get it.)
He is obviously The One. Don’t let the pesky lyrics of that Bob Dylan song he keeps playing for you tell you otherwise. “It Ain’t Me Babe” is obviously a euphemism for something. Something you sort of don’t get.
You’re 18 and you’re in love.
You are dizzy with desire. And dizzier still from the contraband Naty Ice he supplies you (he taught you that’s the cool way to say Natural Ice Beer) Together you frolic among drunken co-eds in his (community) hot tub.
You have so much in common. Like the fact that you both consider Tapatio a food group and both love football. You can spend an entire weekend just wasting away the hours rooting for your favorite team, the Packards? the 76ers? the Bald Eagles?
He is obviously The One. Don’t let the fact that he takes other girls out on dates tell you otherwise. He told you something about ‘playing the field’ and that’s obviously a sports analogy that you just don’t get.
You’re 20 and you kinda sorta like this guy. But it’s no biggie. It’s super casual.
You fail to swoon at the sight of his Old Navy t-shirts and awkwardly sway with him to the uneven beat of Ukrainian folk rock.
You have so little in common. He eats pickled herring for breakfast and likes European techno music. It takes him exactly four months to make the first move which you would find romantic if this was 1852.
But he actually calls when he says he’ll call. He nurses you back to health from the most wicked and completely unattractive bout of stomach flu. He stands up to your parents when they put you down. You can actually see your unborn children in his eyes (with a little help from Jose, Jose Cuervo).
He is obviously The One. Hang on tight and follow him to the end of the Earth (in your case Reno, NV)!
Regards,
Your older, wiser happily married to a pickled herring eater self
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Thank you so much for finding a place for my words here (where my exes can’t find them). It was an honor to participate.
The pleasure is all mine! Thanks, Yuliya.
it is obvious that you have met your perfect match!
Except that whole pickled herring thing, yes!
That is so cute! Well done Yuliya.
Being related to you was obviously a bonus in picking ‘the one’
Oh, I adore you…love this window into your love life!
Better then a window into my sex life, right?
Your writing never fails to make me smile. Nicely done! xoxo
That is exactly what I was going for. Thank you friend!
So sweet Yuliya. It’s such a wonderful feeling when you know you’ve found “The One.”
It’s a match made in pickled herring heaven indeed. Thanks Cam!
Love this! You always make me smile! Now can you go talk to my 16 year old self? Thanks!
I guess what I would say is ‘hold on sista cause you got a HOT MAN coming your way that you will be married to in just a few years’!
Thanks for sharing this! It made me giggle but also smile at the way we can trick ourselves into feeling love until, you know, the real love comes.
Though … I’m thinking the picked herring for breakfast? Might be something it’s ok not to get.
Oy I tell you the things I put up with for true love!
The Bald Eagles!! Ha ha ha – love it!
So glad you found the one… xo
Umm I think it’s like a foosball team, or maybe football?
I love this post! It is so true, too. If I could go back to my 16 year old self I’d tell myself, “get used to those cows you’re afraid of” since Alpha Hubby loves them so much (smile). I’d also say, “Ignore those other guys. They are worthless and wouldn’t know what love is much less faithfulness, so quit compromising.” Oh yeah and, IGNORE YOUR PARENTS.
Ignore your parents can be excellent advice!
Oh, boy. If I could go back and tell myself at 16 what I know at 39…love was nothing but a dream, something I’d read about and seen on TV. I’m glad your self finally told yourself to hold on to The One.
I’m not just holding on, I’ve stapled myself to him so he can’t ever get away!
You are so fantastic, Yuliya. Perhaps you could write letters to all of our younger selves?
I am writing the business plan for that idea as we speak.
That was adorable! It’s so great when you find the perfect mate!
I wouldn’t say perfect…I would say perfect for me 😉
You have to kiss a lot of frogs to get the prince or something like that.
And Reno isn’t that close to the end of the world.
When you grow up in San Francisco, Reno might as well be Ohio. And yest the frog thing is absolutely true!
I love it when Yuliya attempts sports references. Yeah for true love and Euro Techno music. I think.
Wow that sounds really familiar! Love it! 🙂
I loved this letter. I wish there was a way that I could see into the future and know that I was going to end up with an amazing man and all the jerks that I’ve been with over the years have just been preparing me for “the one”. If only…..