Poetry

I met a man who adored Literature.  He studied it too and read ferociously. He used to say the classics are much better reading than modern works. So I look forward to reading Sophocles, Euripides, Homer, Chaucer and more Shakespeare. Under his influence, I just finished Virginia Woolf's Mrs Dalloway.  Next month I've organized a drinks get together and called it Caroline plays Mrs Dalloway (ie party organizer).

This man was meticulous about his reading and committed to its important place in the world. He's found his gift in sharing it with others by tutoring.

We read aloud together and it was probably the most romantic thing I have ever done. I cherish those times.

Suffice to say, I fell for more than the literature and gave my heart too soon.  Unfortunately for many, people you're close to often hear too much of your heartache.  They play the trusting ear to your sad stories.

My landlady is very good fun. She's also wickedly smart. She sometimes sends me poetry that relates to whatever life circumstance I'm going through.

She knows I too love Literature, and she knows - by now - that I have a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve. This week she sent me this:

Never give all the Heart

By William Butler Yeats

Never give all the heart, for love

Will hardly seem worth thinking of

To passionate women if it seem

Certain, and they never dream

That it fades out from kiss to kiss;

For everything that’s lovely is

But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.

O never give the heart outright,

For they, for all smooth lips can say,

Have given their hearts up to the play.

And who could play it well enough

If deaf and dumb and blind with love?

He that made this knows all the cost,

For he gave all his heart and lost.

The dating disconnect

Relocating to another country of course comes with its challenges.

But one I didn’t think would be too different – has turned out to be totally different.

I am 40 and single.

I’ve been many ages and single.  But by 40 and single, I would have thought I’d have a fair handle on men.  Especially from someone who generally gets on very well with men; several men of all ages and marital status.

But entering into the fore of American dating has turned out to be a sharp learning experience.

Who would have known?  I’d heard Americans love Aussies – but for the Americans to get to the stage where they love love Aussies – is a process and one that has left me clueless and with copious battle scars.

I’m still not there yet  - understanding the process – by a long stretch.  I’ll need to ‘date’ several more times and across many more weeks before I even have an inkling of how it works – but let me just say I’ve met enough men romantically in the U.S. for me to realise it is completely different from Down Under.

In fact, I ran off to Scandinavia recently to escape the perils of a slashed heart after getting it all wrong with one particular American man.  Where I've now learned he would have thought we were just “dating” by his actions of pursuit, loads of kissing, everyday contact and seeing each other weekly - I thought we were on the road to relationship. Yes – we know who lost their heart and pride in that scenario.

So the differences:

Basically Australians only "date" more than say, three to four times because after that – if you still like the person – you’re in the “early days” of a relationship.

We avoid the long-winded series of dates before one has a "talk" to decide forward direction.  We tend to have that "talk" too – but much earlier on, definitely by date five.  

And as my Aussie ex-pat friend and I agreed, Australians tend to go from 0 – 60 on their interest’s scale.  For example, if an Australian likes the person and we feel it could go somewhere – we jump in no holds barred.  You are now boyfriend and girlfriend.

Here, I was held back from considering the person I liked very much as my boyfriend because he said he did not like the idea of being 'declared' as a boyfriend and that he would have a better idea if we were compatible for 'relationship' after six months of dating.  

Wow – in Australia, at our age – I wouldn’t be surprised if I was being proposed to or announcing a (mutually-wanted) pregnancy in six months (provided of course relationship going well, etc). 

In America, it appears the process takes much longer and god forbid if the woman says anything like "I'm falling for you - or I'm in love with you..." after six weeks to two months. That would be standard in Australia.  If our guy hasn’t decreed those famous three words by month four (at most) – we know “he’s just not that into you”. 

It’s not a total surprise to get an “I love you” by month two.  I had it at four weeks once – albeit that freaked me out a little – but I still got it. And we went on to have a relationship for nine months.

As well, Australian guys still pining for their ex - or not over it - tend not to "date" us either in Oz. 

They'll just hit up a lot of women to sleep with - because the connotation of "dating" in Australia means you're leading to a relationship.  An Aussie guy will generally wait until he's ready for a relationship before he enters the ‘dating’ phase.

Here I dated someone for around 6 weeks until he told me he was still "carrying forth feelings" for someone else. This was a conversation I initiated and who knows how long we would have gone on like that had I not brought the subject up.  It was awful, awful - because I'd already fallen (refer my above point that Australians have already fallen by week six). 

The other startling difference is Aussies do not tend to "date" more than one person - no, no - we would find that insulting and offensive. In fact, we don't even really call the process 'dating'.  We call it "seeing" one another (if you're seeing me - why are you seeing someone else?)

Interestingly in hindsight, I was always puzzled by The Bachelor and the way these women were totally ok with The Bachelor getting it on with several women before choosing their “one”.  

We would balk at that.  No way you can go and kiss another girl if we’re on date 3 together.  And as I said to my friend last night and to explain to her partner who is American: “If a guy I had three to four dates with were to run into me having dinner with another man on a ‘date’ – it wouldn’t be a total surprise for the three date guy to punch the other in the face!”  It’s just like that I guess. Aussies, we’re territorial – she’s my woman!   

As well, Australians are not as likely to be "friends" with their exes. Here in America - it's apparently standard and considered rude if you are not prepared to be a friend with your ex.

In Australia for instance the only ex I speak to I last spoke to about two years ago (we'll have the occasional facebook chat - but very minimal).  The immediate ex - we parted end of 2009, went out over a year, and yet, I haven't seen him or spoken to him since.  I know through a mutual acquaintance that he's married and has two kids.  

It's quite common for Australians to break-up and move on entirely - bye, bye, next one.

Sure there are exceptions especially as more and more Aussies are embracing the concept of ‘the modern man’ but if I were friends with an ex in Australia it's likely we'd still be feeling our sexual chemistry. 

Here, I hear once you’ve been relegated to the ‘friend zone’ you stay in the friend zone – no prospect of reconciliation or ‘sex with the ex’ occurs once the friends' space is established.

And my parting word - American men paying...  Well, I hear this is how it goes but I have not experienced this entirely. In three separate cases, I’ve been out of pocket by paying for myself on date one and sometimes even covering them.

So the jury is still out on that.  But Australian women for the record do not expect our first date guy to pay.  We call it “going Dutch” which basically means you split the bill.  But there is a general etiquette that whoever does the date asking is usually the one who picks up the tab. Of course, it's noticed and appreciated. The gesture is considered gentlemanly - but not mandatory. 

This is date one, perhaps also date two, but by date three we’re both paying for ourselves, or the woman is paying for brunch to make up for the man paying for dinner date one and two.

So we’ll see.  I’m a little exhausted by it.  But I’m also more aware – which helps.  Because being unaware I guarantee you – will lead to horrible misunderstanding, embarrassment and heartache.

Fortunately it’s a good thing San Francisco attracts people from all over the world because the idea of dating a man not familiar with American dating culture has obvious appeal.  

On the cusp of 40

Is it a coincidence the HBO series, Sex and the City, about a group of 30 something single women making their own way in the big smoke, was so wildly successful?  For a woman beating her path in this decade, life throws up its decade-relevant challenges (many of which you will read here in this blog – marriage, mortgage, babies – or none of the above).

In my early 20s I was a bit wild, yes; my mid to late 20s filled with ambition to learn from industry’s best and carve out a formidable career in public relations.

Most people in my clique back then were single, and those who weren’t, were just being together, they weren’t getting married or having children.  No big threat.

But my 30s – whoa – changes beyond my control across my family and friendship fold hit me (and my fellow single friends also seeing it in their own lives) like a ton of bricks.

So you can imagine the smile that formed on my face when my single friend, Justine, answered to my question: “What’s it like being 40?”  “It’s a far cry better than being in the shadow of it.”

Yes – 40.   I began dating a man only months from his 40^th birthday and he had such a meltdown over it that I realized then and there, there was no way I could be serious about a person so narcissistic. Seriously – you’re giving THIS much thought to rolling over a number? Give me a break (coincidentally he’s gone on to get married and have a baby (as most past significant others have)).

Thank goodness as the big 4-0 draws near for me (30 July), I shrug my shoulders and think –at least it gives me a chance to see my dad, who will fly in from Melbourne, to meet me in Las Vegas for a night of dinner and champagne.  

Goodbye decade of baby making friends muddled with a sense of dread and helplessness that I’m not.

Which is probably why I’ve ended up on the other side of the world – a journey I made on my own – a little out of the ordinary at my age – without a partner, home or job, but I knew I needed to change my circumstance and such change showed more promise if it were major.

“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.” ― Gospel of Thomas 

I’ve made do with my situation and done the best of my independence.  Justine tells me some may even envy us.  How many our age can drop everything for a decadent week of theatre, restaurants and hanging out in the city that never sleeps? 

Stability however has called. It’s waved its hand from over the white picket fence and is tempting me to settle for a more permanent life.  

It’s a complicated position to be in – because I know I crave this inevitably – but I also know it won’t happen, or feel right, until I’ve met my match to give me reason.

The best advice I was given this week – was to live life appropriate to you.  Don’t worry what others think.  

It may be an unconventional life in terms of how society sees it – but it says more about them than it does me.

Celebrate your life and keep loving yourself – because through this means, it is likely all that is desired will unfold as it should, as I allow the road to open up that is right for me. 

Photo - Justine took my photo during interval at the opera Madama Butterfly, the MET, New York.