Whittling The One

This essay is an elaboration of my reply to this Tweet:

Disclaimer I: I’m only giving myself two hours to write this word vomit. Apologies in advance for the inevitable rambling, unrefined sentences, and incomplete thoughts.

Disclaimer II: I’ve evidently yet to prove that the moral framework described below leads to success.

Disclaimer III: I just really wanted three disclaimers.

Part I: The One

Who you choose to live your life with is one of the most important decisions you can make. As a result, you really cannot screw it up. You have to find a partner that you want to spend the next 65 years with, in sickness and in health, etc.

Naturally, you want to find The One: an archetype you’ve built of the perfect specimen that you strive to find. There’s actually nothing wrong with this. In fact, I don’t think you have any business in dating unless you have, at least, concocted a nebulous cloud of attributes that approximates who you’re looking for. The adjectives that describe them probably have a lot of -est at the end: smartest, prettiest, kindest, funniest. You may also have niche preferences, whether its hair color, the profession they have or want, the music they like (the same as yours), their willingness to run your philanthropic foundation after you get filthy rich from your entrepreneurial endeavors, etc.

Here’s my first hot take: the archetype you’ve described probably exists amongst the 8 billion people on the planet, if not in exacting detail, pretty darn close. I mean, statistically, they probably do exist.

Here’s my second hot take: in your pursuit of looking for The One, stop when you’ve found someone “good enough.”* Those who know me know that I have incredibly high standards for everything in my life and will ruthlessly cut out anything that doesn’t meet my standards: my friends, the missions I endeavor on, the people I choose to work with, the books I read and the movies I (rarely) watch, and yes, the kind of person I want to spend the rest of my life with. The rest of these ramblings will describe what I mean by “good enough.”

*I was fully aware “good enough” is a poor choice of words and quite incendiary when I wrote them. I just wanted to throw in some SHOCK VALUE into the mix.

OK, so you have The One in mind. Now, you go on a first date with someone to evaluate whether they fit the bill (if you’re a gal, he better pay it, too). Congrats! It seems like they have some of the attributes you’re looking for. There’s a lot of things you need to look for to identify The One, so you’re going to go on some more dates to figure those out. Oh no, you’ve noticed something about them that wasn’t part of the archetype, maybe even in your first date, but more likely in later ones.

Part II: The Whittling

Whittling is the act of taking a block of wood, and cutting bits and pieces off with a knife until it takes shape into something more than a block of wood. I whittled the one gal I courted. Please don’t call the cops, she’s probably still in one piece. To be clear: whittling is not the lowering of expectations. It’s about discarding the parts that don’t matter, leaving you only with what’s most important.

I think the most important heuristic you can use yourself every time you identify something about them that isn’t up-to-spec is this: “If they didn’t originally have this fault and we were married, but then they developed this fault, would I still love them?” Would you still love her if she developed an ailment that would keep her in bed 12 hours a day? Yes. Would you still love him if he became a porn addict or a cheater? Definitely not.

Whittling feels like a despondent activity, but it’s important to remember that you’re starting out with someone really good on your hands, if they’ve made it past the first date. As you whittle, always keep in mind the things you like about them: their passion, cuteness, intelligence, humor, etc- whatever it is that made you want to go back for another date.

I think examples can best demonstrate what I mean by whittling, but I’m going to have to be vague. She won’t read this, but our common friends might, so it’s important that I stay respectful. (Even if I wanted to be disrespectful, there’s actually very little I’d have to say.)

Firstly, there are the small faults. Usually they’re innate to the person, and there’s nothing really they can do about them, and frankly, you’ll never tell them about these faults because they’ll get self-conscious about them (hopefully not with you, but their peers and strangers). I actually found these small faults endearing. They’re almost, like, special. These faults are only for me to appreciate, and nobody else.

Then, there “icks”. I’ll use myself as an example, because surprise, I’ve got faults. While I’m a pretty competent driver (I’m the only one in my friend group that hasn’t gotten into an accident), I’m sometimes aggressive on the brakes if I was too optimistic on the time left on the yellow light. And sometimes when I’m deep in thought or conversation while walking, I’ll totally forget what sidewalks I took to get to get to my destination. For women, there’s a primal desire for their man to have a reliable built-in compass. Also, I don’t dress well. I’m by no means a slob that wears pajamas and flip-flops outside (she actually teased me for not owing pajamas at all), but I could wear more than a hoodie and a cap with logo of companies I work or worked at, especially next to someone who always wore cute sundresses. Also, I probably am not a terribly great kisser, as she was my first kiss and I didn’t have a ton of opportunities to hone my skills before she rejected me. It’s very possible that any or all of could’ve been the dealbreakers for her. Anyways, I’m working on fixing all of these icks now (e.g. going clothes shopping at the mall next weekend)…well, except the kissing one for now. Most icks are solvable with effort, but communication about it is key (that being said, I had to find my own icks through self-reflection, and I’m sure I’ll discover more). Some icks aren’t solvable, and I think you have to accept that you’ll be annoyed occasionally, or even possibly constantly. (You’ve seen your parents squabble over annoying habits and pet peeves, and yet they still love each other deeply.)

Also, there are different desires and interests. If you’re a quiet person that has hates noise and busy places, it’ll be hard to share a life with someone who’s a rave head and wants to go to a nightclub every week. That being said, I think it’s generally harmless if it’s something that doesn’t need to involve you. For example, she was heavily involved in an academic club pertaining to a specific philosophy. I didn’t quite follow the philosophy (I liked some of the ideas) nor do I understand why a philosophy needs a club. Nevertheless, I was very supportive of her dedication to the philosophy and the club, and it was admirable that she found it so important and that she girl-bossed her way into being a very capable organizer for large events.

Sometimes, there are compromises you’ll have to make. These can be hard to accept, and especially early on in dating, you might at first think to yourself that these should be dealbreakers. I think, more often than not, you won’t regret the compromises. She was a vegetarian, and I like meat (a lot). She didn’t make me stop eating meat (that would be a sacrifice I wouldn’t be willing to make), but it meant that I would have to accommodate her dietary restrictions when eating with her. As such, I would check menus online beforehand to make sure that there were (actually tasty, not “token”) vegetarian options, and I began to learn how to cook vegetarian meals to surprise her upon her return from her summer research stint out of state. (We unfortunately didn’t make it long enough after she returned, but my long term vision was to consume my meat for lunches I made for myself, and cook vegetarian dinners to share with her.)

And finally, there are sacrifices you might have to make. This is when that heuristic I mentioned earlier is super important to ask yourself. The trajectory of your life could alter, possibly significantly. She got chronically ill during her summer research stint, and she became far less energetic, more stressed, and aloof. I hope she’s doing better now, but after weeks of ailment, I began “rerouting” all of my daydreams and visions of our future in a world where she was consistently lacking in energy. Life would look different and possibly difficult, but in asking myself this heuristic, the answer was yes. That being said, the answer for many people is no (see statistics of morally repugnant men leaving their cancer stricken wives). Coincidentally, I had developed what at the time was a pretty damn scary health problem. I had kept it under wraps during her time out of state to keep her from stressing out, but she noticed a few days after she returned when I grimaced in pain during a dinner out. (I’m fine now, but it was easily the most difficult thing I’ve dealt with alone, as I kept it a secret from my family and most friends, too). I don’t know whether this played a part in her rejection of me (I hope not, but not everyone has to think the way I do), but it did get me thinking quite a bit about what it means to sacrifice in the face of difficulty (maybe a topic for a future essay).

To wrap it all up: remember that you’re just looking for someone to make you happy. Someone that you can laugh with, talk with, walk with, cuddle with, build a home with, raise kids with, feel at peace with, and grow old with. They don’t need to be perfect, just “good enough.”

Part III: The Three

This is not an endorsement of polygamy. I just really wanted three parts.

← prev