I sat eating donuts in Madison Square Park with a handsome man I'd recently met, thinking, finally, I found someone. I spent a few seconds admiring his perfect face and imagining our wedding as the sun set behind him, all unicorns and rainbows and gushy feelings. Then he mentioned his girlfriend. Snapped from my trance, suddenly I could hear the ambulance blaring by, the man at the next table yelling at his friend for feeding the pigeons, and a Pomeranian barking uncontrollably.
The illusion of the date was gone. The two of us, I realized, were just friends.
Fifteen years of dating, and you'd think I'd know the signs. But in spite of being a life coach and reading people for a living, I still misread signs when it comes to my own dating life. I think people are interested in me romantically who aren't, I’m blindsided by breakups, and I still think charming, good-looking men who try to pick me up at the bar are interested in more than sex. And, it is not because I have an inflated ego.