Ricki Heller

Now that I’m an (ahem) mature woman who has been with my spouse for almost two dozen years, I can honestly say that I don’t know a single female friend who doesn’t have at least one cringe-worthy relationship in her past. 

What’s usually worse, most of us have had the same cringe-worthy relationship. ..several times, with different partners.

In my 20s and 30s, I tended to date the same type repeatedly: my “ideal man” had to be super intelligent, funny, a brilliant artistic type (duh, of course) and a hopeless romantic who showered me with constant expressions of his affection (say, chocolate truffles , a sweet handwritten card, or–if he knew me really well–a Vitamix). 

What I ended up with, instead, was usually someone who appeared fabulous at the outset, but fairly quickly revealed his Inner Cad (or simply his lack of suitability for a long-term relationship).

There was the actor who sort of resembled a young Robert Redford, but was so bitter about his own lack of fame that he constantly cut me down with sarcasm and even mockery;

There was the rock singer-wannabe who was so self-absorbed that when we had dinner at his place, he often “forgot” to buy a second bottle of beer for me. Oh, and cheated on me repeatedly (I found out later); 

And then there was the writer who, while sweet and loyal, was so impoverished that he lived in a place that was, literally, condemned. 

Finally, around age 40, it hit me: what the heck am I doing?! 

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