It's Not Called Settling

Being ridiculously picky while searching for a gynecologist is a fantastic idea. Scrutinizing the acceptability of the nutrition labels of your food is probably a good thing. Sometimes being too picky can prevent you from getting something you'd like to accomplish in life. I know I’ll probably get many people - most likely women - who are going to cringe at what I'm saying, but just hear me out. There is a huge myth that no one should ever “settle” for the less-than-perfect man and, frankly, that’s just a really stupid way of thinking.

I read an article by Lori Gottlieb a few years ago and, at the time, I snorted. Of course, I had done what most people reading Internet publications do: I had only skimmed. Then I evaluated my own station in life and thought again about my closed-minded stupidity. Besides, all of us should realize that “perfect” doesn’t exist.

I was in a relationship with someone (We'll call him Jason) whom I believed was my perfect match. He was generous and smart and self-motivated and determined. I have a wide range of hobbies and he always encouraged me to pursue the ones we didn't have in common. There were four things I didn't like. 1) He was loud and talked a lot. It wasn't intentional, I don't believe, but it got significantly worse when he was excited or enthusiastic about something. 2) He had chicken legs. He just looked silly in shorts. 3) Tact wasn't in his vocabulary and he was unaware of his tone of voice. 4) He never wanted to get married.

The marriage thing was a problem for me. Then one day he gave me a grain of hope, by saying that there were many things about me that made him think we could be married and happy. That was all it took; I ran with it. I ran with it like a thief with an armful of stolen convenience store cigarettes.

Time went on and nothing had changed. I'd bring marriage up on occasion and it was a short-lived, vague conversation. After three years, I took an informal poll of all my male friends. I asked them, "When did you first realize you wanted to marry your wife, even if it didn't happen for years?" Without fail, every one of them gave me an answer that was less than six months. 

I scrutinized every last little detail about myself to try to figure out what was wrong with me. He loved me enough to want to be with me, but not enough to make a permanent commitment to me. He knew that was something I valued. I began remembering all the off-handed comments, including things about my "out of control" sex drive, and my weight (I need to lose less than 20 pounds to be in the middle of my optimal BMI, by the way).

I felt like he didn't love me enough to overlook some things that weren't perfect but I wouldn't think should be deal-breakers. I was absolutely sick and after many emotional arguments and heated accusations on my part, I chose to start seeing someone else who seemed to worship me. Yet I was miserable with him.

I met someone else (We'll call him James). He was wonderful and virtually perfect. I thought Jason was wonderful, but this man surpassed everything I dreamed a man could be - AND be interested in me! His generosity knew no bounds. His caring words and sensitivity was a refreshing change. His talents and interests were a few of the same ones I enjoyed.

I loved everything about him, except for a few things (you knew that was coming). His hairline was quite odd. He didn't have broad, manly shoulders. He had a duck-footed gait, which made him look like a ballet dancer. He was way more devoted to religion than I was comfortable with. His parents were too, and they put a lot of pressure on him to stick to traditional Biblical values. There were so many of my hobbies that he just wasn't into. His unstable jobs - all seasonal and he rotated with about 3 - kept him living several hours away from me. And, the biggest one...he was 14 years younger than me. Often, those things were all I could see when we were together. So I broke up with him.

After a few sessions with my psychiatrist, he made me see something very real. He introduced me to the 80/20 guideline: If you can find someone who is 80% ideal with 20% less-than-optimal qualities, as long as they aren't the dreaded "deal-breakers," you should take a serious look at yourself and see if you're really just being too picky and missing out on someone who may be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

How important is a hairline, really? I'd seen pictures of haircuts that flattered him. He'd expressed a desire to keep his hair shorter. So what was my problem? How embarrassed should a woman be over her man's shoulders? Really? That just sounds asinine now. It didn't keep me from being insanely attracted to him, mind, body, and soul.

The only two big obstacles were going to be the distance and the age. He never had an issue with the age - it was me; he was very mature (I think it was from being an only child) and all of his friends were much older than him. 

I'd really fucked up. The only thing I could do was get back in touch with him and beg him to forgive me, reconsider our relationship, and take me back.

He did. And I've never been happier. As partners - a team - I'm happy to support his career choices, knowing that my stable and sufficient income can carry us through the hard times and provide us with the health coverage we need. His parents love me and I love them. When I hug him, his sloped shoulders don't even enter my mind. Walking next to him, hand in hand, I don't see his feet. When we're nose-to-nose, looking into each other's eyes, the last thing I'm worried about is his hair. But I feel his love in every way and I realize it's not settling at all. It's being realistic and focusing on what's really important.