I was driving on a gorgeous stretch of canyon road in LA this weekend. My top was down, the wind was flying through my hair, Bob Marley was flowing through my speakers and as he would have said, everything was “irie”… until I pulled up behind a “braker.” You know the type. A little bit of gas, a whole lot of brake. Or perhaps just a consistent brake. Its enough to take even Bob Marley on his highest of high days down a few notches. As I was forced to follow the braking pattern of the hesitant car in front of me on the one-lane road, my heart ached for the driver.

To live a life with one or perhaps worse, two feet on the brakes is to be a caged bird. Sure instinctual caution can prevent you from making bad choices, like crashing, but constant hesitation perpetuated by baked in fear will only keep you from potentially gorgeous opportunities in life… and certainly in love. Think about the times you’ve been invited to a party or an event and you thought, should I or shouldn’t I go… by the time you decided, the opportunity had slipped away. Think about the times you’ve had a guy in sight you wanted to ask out but while you were trying to muster up your courage, he was walking out the door. Think about all of the chances you’ve let slip away because you were halted by fear or paralyzed by overanalyzes. Imagine what you could have done, could have seen, who you could have met with a little more gas, and a little less brake.

When you hear the squeak of your own brakes, oil it with the simple philosophy that you have more to gain by diving into life completely, than you do by treading in its waters. With every leap, a growth opportunity is guaranteed – and that should be the catalyst for the jump, no matter how seemingly scary. When you free yourself of fear, your spirit awakens and good things naturally come your way, or perhaps, you just move towards them, as I was able to once the one-lane turned into two and I could put my foot back on the gas, resuming my organic high, eventually winding my way to the picturesque ocean and a day filled with adventure.

Live and love largely,

Tristan

Today is the third anniversary of my last first date. Otherwise knows as my first date with my now husband, Jason. Not to sound too much like a Hallmark card, but it’s resulting in some particularly butterfly’ish feelings this morning. Maybe because we are also approaching our first anniversary as a married couple. I don’t know. But I do know that there is something spectacular about your last first date. You have no idea when you either ask for it or agree to it that it will be your last first date. When you are getting all dolled up for it, you don’t know that this is the last time you’ll pick out a first date outfit. If the jitters strike, you don’t think to yourself, these are my last first date jitters. During the usual “interview” exchange of questions, there’s no signal that goes off alerting you that you’ll never play that game again. And unless you are that magical couple that comes along once in a blue moon when you engage in that first kiss, you probably don’t know that that lip-lock will be the last pair of lips your ever lock with. At least not yet.

In interviews I am often asked about my first date with Jason. Typically I think people are expecting an extravagant tale – one worthy of an Academy script. But our story is really a simple one:

Boy sees girls in her office while visiting agent. Boy likes what he sees. Boy saunters into girl’s office, uninvited. Girl is annoyed but is polite. Boy obtains girls phone number from his agent and asks out girl. Girl goes out with boy.

Ok, wait, let me rewind. There’s a little bit more to tell.

Truth be told, I didn’t want to go out with Jason. The cards were stacked against him. My first impression of him was that sure, he was hot but hot guys in LA are just a casting away. When we met, Jason was overly confident, borderline pompous I’d say. He got my number from his agent, which has bad cable movie, titled “That’s so LA” written all over it. He asked me out via a really long text message, which is a huge pet peeve of mine (note to men: if your thoughts extend into multiple messages, have some courage and pick up the phone), and as I mentioned in a previous post, he was a recently divorced pro-athlete which equated in my mind to BIG baggage meets no brains.

Plus my mandidate plate was pretty full with some flavorful options already... translation = not looking.

If it wasn’t for my “Always take applications” mantra (and a little nudge from my baby brother, Zach, who was a fan of Jason’s professionally), his ask-me-out text would have gone unanswered.

Alas, the date still almost didn’t happen despite its arrangement. The night of our date, I was at a birthday party - one I didn’t want to leave. Friends galore were present, the bar was open and flowing, and there were cute new prospects there (I know, I said I wasn't looking, but come on... I was a menu dater and menu daters are always looking!). Three reasons to stay, and not really one I wanted to leave for. The drunken birthday party girl, Sarah, however was quick to remind me that I was writing a book on the benefits of keeping your man options open and of always saying yes to knocking opportunities… plus she reminded me that I am a woman of my word and always treat people the way that I want to be treated. It can be such a bitch having people put the mirror in your face sometimes! Further, she said she had a cosmic feeling about “this one” and essentially kicked me out of her party to go meet the hot, dumb jock! So off I went to the very cliche hotel bar, half-smiling thinking to myself, it’s just one drink... just one drink.

Low and behold, mid-drink I was awe-struck and humbled by the treasure box I had unlocked in the hot, dumb jock… truly enraptured by his depth, softened by his sincerity and charmed by his quick-witted humor.

One drink turned into three turned into a first kiss under the moonlight turned into enchanting conversation through sunrise turned into a second date that night and then a third and more and more and more for four continuous months, which turned into us impulsively jetting off to Switzerland together to live among castles in a forest for five months which turned into an engagement. Just like that.

See that’s the funny thing about like and love. You really can stumble into it anywhere, anytime, when you least expect…IF you are open to it. Sometimes you need a little nudge along the way (thanks Sarah and Zach) to get you off your lazy ass, and sometimes you have to loosen the screws on your view to remind you that the outside wrapping isn’t always representative of the gift inside, but the most important thing is showing up for the game. As we discuss a lot on this blog, there is always something to be gained from getting up to bat – every experience lifts you up – even if it's just a millimeter, growth is growth and results in making you a better you and ultimately a better partner.

So here's to getting out of your own way, and up to bat to as many first dates as it takes to get to the last one.

Live and love largely,

Tristan

p.s. Jason, if you are reading this today, thank you for the best last first date of my life and all the other last firsts, first lasts and first firsts that you’ve given me. Our ride together has been serendipitous and extraordinary and as I look out into the future with you, I’m so excited for all that it will be. I love you.

When people uncover that my husband is a former hockey player they oftentimes inquire about my personal hockey passion. Immediately they discover that there isn’t one. I have no clue what icing means and only recently after three years feel confident in my definition of a hat trick… however I have little understanding of how difficult it is to get one. I can’t ice skate at all – yes, I’m that girl with the notably adorable hat and mittens, tripping over my feet, laughing on the ground, thinking to myself, who invented this silly activity, and I so hope they spike the hot cocoa at this rink… as Jason (my main course) lovingly scoops me up, again, chuckling and saying something endearing like, “At least you have the cutest hat at the rink, babe.” Love him.

On the flipside, if you ask him if he ever thought he’d be married to a girl who gets a high off finding the perfect vintage dress at a thrift store, dances in the moonlight with no music, could care less about working out and who’s main goal in life is to get people to fall in L-O-V-E and to ride every rollercoaster in the world, he’d tell you that you were out of your mind… until of course, he met me.

That’s the funny thing about love. Or rather about being open to falling in it, anywhere, anytime, any place, about wiping the canvas clean of preconceived notions of what you thought you wanted and instead, just letting love wrap you up in its gorgeous mystery. When you say “sure, why not, you never know” instead of saying “no”, the winding roads you get to travel take you to destinations beyond your wildest imagination.

During my menu dating tenure I took a vast array of applications. That was the point – to be an equal opportunity dater… not erratically, but with discipline and purpose (but of course for fun too!), consciously refining my wants and needs in a relationship, all the while getting to know myself better during the critical getting to know yourself period (otherwise known as my twenties). If I called it at 18, I would have ended up with mint chocolate chip ice cream, but Jason as it turns out is much more of a unique Coldstone combo that doesn’t even have a name. Jason isn’t perfect, but he’s perfect for me. And that is what every self-aware, self-loving single person should seek… and shouldn’t commit to, until they get it.

Today I encourage you to see beyond your comfortable scope. I encourage you to erase the boundaries as you know them. When we limit ourselves to people we have defined as acceptable by say, profession, height, social status or any other “profile” factor, we deprive ourselves of the opportunity to dig a little deeper and explore the actual person, and therefore ourselves as a reflection of them. After all, if asked to describe yourself, would you really define the beautiful person you are by your job, or your looks or where you went to school? Doubtful. So why do it to someone else? I’m quite certain that if I stereotyped Jason as a hot, divorced jock, which is all I knew of him when I met him, we wouldn’t be here today. If we filled out match.com profiles, we’d still be lost in cyber space, dating carbon copies of ourselves (yawn!), not having found each other (which, by the way, is why I dig this new site: Opposites Connect which takes an alternative approach, but I digress). The bottom line is that when you open your mind, you heart awakens… just like that.

Yes, Jason and I have a lot that is different on the outside and of course, we have some similarities too. But on the inside, our value’s, dreams and goals are in sync and there is a deep appreciation, respect and commitment to each other’s individuality allowing for respective and partnership growth. Whereas we may not be two of a kind, we are definitely two of a find.

Live and love largely,

Tristan