Connection. Isn’t it what we all are searching for? You see it everywhere you look – on your bus ride to work in the morning, on your way to your favorite coffee shop, while you’re standing in line at the store. The buzz of the connected world is undeniable. You see people everywhere; busy on their phones, straining to hold onto the handles of the bus while sending out a text message, updating their thoughts and whereabouts on social networking sites, sending a photo to someone back home.

But in this busy and connected world, are we losing ourselves and our connection…true connection, in the chaos and fury of all this connected-ness? What can replace the warmth of a stranger’s smile, or a happen-chance conversation while pouring coffee at the local shop? Can we replace the warmth of our partner’s hug when we get home from a long day at work?

During these challenging times, I urge us to seek connection in any way possible, but mostly, through Facetimes and phone calls with our friends and family. Nothing replaces hearing “I love you” and seeing that smile on a loved one’s face. No amount of Instagram likes can amount to that. I challenge us to understand and embrace what connection truly is.

Fragmented Romance – Dating in the Age of Tinder

It took me a while to feel like I could take her toothbrush down from the counter. I just needed to believe that someone was by my side. The thought of walking into my bathroom and seeing one lone toothbrush made me feel empty. I wasn’t accustomed to being alone. Walking into my lonely apartment night after night and hanging my jacket on one empty bar-stool filled me with incomparable feelings of loneliness. I used to stand in the center of my living room looking at two empty chairs, wishing there was another jacket hanging next to mine.

Quelling these feelings of loneliness was no easy task, and despite my desperate attempts to ease the pain, nothing I did or tried could truly take those feelings away. In this fragmented day and age of dating, I was looking for love in a world where love, as I knew it, seemed to no longer exist.

I met my ex-fiance six years ago in an oyster bar just off of the Embarcadero. I wasn’t going to go. I had decided last minute that I was going to try to make it – just in case. I remember standing there by the water with my headphones on, trying to pretend I wasn’t preoccupied with the thought that I was to look for “a tall redhead, you can’t miss me.” As I busied myself with looking busy, I quickly glanced over my shoulder and noticed her walking towards me. Feigning nonchalance, I introduced myself as I noticed the glint of her hair in the warm summer light. Continue reading