My Search for Romance

 by Wendee Mason 

Valentine's Day is approaching, which means, love is in the air! Do you remember the most romantic times of your life? I can remember most of them. I started my search for romance very early in life. The process of learning about love began when I was eight. Even then, I had fantasies of older suitors romancing me. 

As a young girl, I spent hours visualizing Paul McCartney climbing through my second story bedroom window to sing to me, "She Loves You" and "I Want to Hold Your Hand." I'm still not over Paul. Three years later, at eleven, I again made use of visualization techniques. I drew a map of my "dream-boy neighborhood." Each boy I had a crush on lived in a house on the block. The boys that I liked most were my immediate neighbors to the left and right. Each boy's importance in my heart was represented by how close to me they lived. I was pretty romantically charged as an eleven year old. In my mind, the boys would vie for the house closest to me. (I often wonder if this is why I later became a real estate agent?) It would be interesting to visit that neighborhood today.

 I was an awkward-looking child during puberty. I don't remember ever being shorter than 5'10", and at that time, I was only 110 pounds. My body consisted of arms, legs, braces, and very thick glasses, which represented a barrier to love. I knew at twelve, no boy of sound mind and 20/20 vision would ever kiss me. But just in case, I used to practice kissing my mother's Greek statue in her bedroom. It didn't matter to me that it was a statue of a woman. What I needed was a set of practice lips. I'd watch TV, study the kissing methods used by the stars, sneak up to her bedroom and practice on the plaster of Paris model. Even now, it's hard to go to a museum without reliving my connection to statues. 

At fifteen, Billy, the boy across the street, asked if I wanted to come over and watch a monster movie with him. Although I hated monster movies, Billy was seventeen-an older man- and I considered this to be a peak life experience. I brushed my braces and went across the street. Billy answered the door. My heart pounded. I think he was grinning. I couldn't tell because I had purposefully taken off my glasses and left them at home. He took me to his bedroom, which was painted black, and had fluorescent stickers and posters which glowed with the black light. He turned on the movie, and I watched the blur of monsters cross the screen as I sat frozen at the edge of his bed in his "love cave." I waited anxiously, hoping he would make a move. After a few minutes, Billy reached over and gave me a kiss on the lips. I melted. It was nothing like the practice sessions with the statue. I felt tingling through my body. I was finally a woman! Kissing was wonderful! If only I could have seen what I was doing. Billy refused to give me the time of day after that half hour "date". 

There were many more Billys in my life that allowed me to feel the heights of ecstasy and depths of depression, yet I wouldn't trade any of those experiences, because there's no other feeling like love. It was two more years until I was kissed again by my first real boyfriend, Doug. It was the most romantic relationship I ever had. Actually, it was my only relationship up to this point, so anything he did I considered romantic. To this day, I still have the hundreds of letters claiming his everlasting love and devotion for me. 

Doug set the standard for all other suitors that followed. I graduated from high school early and left Doug behind. The college boys seemed more sophisticated, but they could have taken love letter lessons from Doug. 

When I was twenty three, feeling a bit desperate that I wasn't yet married, I made a composite of my perfect man taking the best attributes of each of my favorite past dates and combining them into one man. I wanted someone as tall as Dave, and funny as Steve, as compassionate and romantic as Doug. I wanted him to be as smart as Bill, as musically inclined and care-free as Brian. It would be nice if he were rich, but up to that point I hadn't dated anyone that fit that bill. The list included over a dozen men. What young man would be able to live up to such high standards? I carried this list in my wallet for years, waiting for them to grow up. Little did I know, he would look like Joe (and be so old!) 

In 1983, at twenty eight, taking a new strategy, I made a five foot list of "What Wendee Wants in a Man," and hung it on the back of my home office door. This list was created on butcher paper, and stayed on the door until my wedding day in 1988. It was comprehensive and covered every aspect of my soul mate. I knew it was possible to visualize a mate into reality, but I didn't think I'd have to date over one hundred men (only twenty a year) to actualize my vision. After each evening with a new man, I'd go into my office, close the door, and compare the latest candidate with my wish list. Perhaps I was being too unrealistic. Perhaps this creature of delight that I envisioned didn't exist. 

Between 1980 and 1987, I was engaged five times. It was my grown up way of going steady. My engagements drove my mother crazy. She'd be very excited, tell all of her friends and relatives, then have to inform them a short time later that the wedding was off. By the time Joe came around, I had cried "wolf" too many times, and she told me she'd "get excited at the wedding." I don't know if she ever got excited, but she cried. 

One of the men I was most excited about was Larry Royalty. Even though he wasn't rich, I figured with a name like Royalty, I had a better chance of obtaining the image and possible life style I was sure I wanted. It didn't work out with Larry and me, but he set an impossible standard for the perfect last name. Others with less desirable and complicated last names like Szczotka-fiancé #3- hardly had a chance. On January 10th, 1987, just ten days after I had broken off my fourth engagement with a man whose last name was Fogg- and my mother thought I was in one- I met Joe. He asked me to dance. His nervous body shook while we waltzed across the ballroom floor. Later he told me he had been watching me from across the room for many evenings, which I felt was a very romantic thing to say. A few days later we had our first date. Afterwards, I went to my office door to compare him to my list, and to my delight and horror, he matched every single item on it, except the last name requirement. I stood there in disbelief! I told my roommate that I wasn't going to see him again. She asked why. "Because he's a phony! NOBODY can be that nice AND match my impossible wish list!" I was wrong. She talked me into accepting one more date. 

It was Valentine's Day. It was the second most romantic time of my life. He sang to me, and played his guitar, and gave me a sterling silver and ivory bracelet. At that moment, I knew I met the man I was going to marry, and he was a real prince regardless of his name. My wedding day with Joe was the best day of my life. He paid exclusive attention to me and my desires. He recited his own wedding vows and sang an original song to me during the ceremony while his shaking hand held my sweaty palm. He didn't shove the wedding cake all over my face at the reception, and we danced all day and night. It was the epitome of romance. He even let me keep my own name. 

For many people, Valentine's day is full of stress and anxiety. Even as a child, I was concerned about how many cards I would receive from my classmates. I never seemed to receive enough to make me feel desirable. As the years progressed, I learned an important lesson: I should be less concerned about how many Valentines I was going to receive, and concentrate on how many I was going to give. 

Each year, by giving dozens of Valentine's cards, I always felt I provided a valuable service of making people feel good about themselves. In return, they liked me better and sought my friendship. Many people think of February as the month of romance. Whether you have someone in your life or not, February 14th is an ideal day to express how much other people mean to you in your life. Try to make an effort to let everyone you know, male and female, how significant they are to you. Send out dozens of cards, write special notes and don't forget to sign your name. 

By reaching out, and breaking the love barrier, you will be rewarded by their genuine surprise and heart warming thanks for your caring and affection. My advice to single people is to go out of your way to introduce yourself to new people. Smile and make eye contact. Ask questions and be a good listener. Make others feel important and keep your sense of humor. Don't judge others too quickly and always be open to possibilities. Take the risk to express your love and admiration. The rewards are worth it. 

Each of us has been given the gift of love. Practicing the expression of love will enrich your life, but we need to give it in order to receive it. People miss wonderful opportunities when they limit who they'll get to know by judging them by their appearance. Pretend each person has a paper bag over their head to eliminate judging them by their face. Learn to know people by what is in their heart. 

How do you get to know their heart? Spend time with them and ask plenty of questions. The deeper the question, the better we can understand who they really are. You may be surprised who you end up loving! For those who are married, this Valentine's Day, recapture that romantic spirit by bringing out your old pictures and letters. Let this day be your instant replay of romance. Pretend you've met for the first time. Remember to tell your mate what you love best and appreciate about him. Cherish him, and be grateful for the love you have found and share together. Nurture each other, for love is the most precious of all gifts!