by Jennifer Cox
u’ve finished? he texted back immediately.
chosen 2 finish, I replied carefully.
How u feel—exhausted, victorious…? he asked.
Feeling a little ashamed and very emotional, I texted back: v long story, will tell all when c u. 4 now feel drained but happy. love & miss u. flying to Seattle 2MORROW if okay?
I had to see Garry. And I wanted to tell him everything that had happened: He deserved to know the truth. But I was going to tell him in person, not over the phone or email or instant message or text. In fact, much as I loved technology, I was sick of having a relationship through it. I was going to try to have our relationship face to face from now on.
I had no idea how it would all work. Would I move to America? Would he move to London? Would we commute between the two?
I had no plans. And that was fine: We’d make them together.
Looking out the window at the soft chocolate-colored mountains topped by the purple clouds at sunset, I felt utterly spent. But I also had a sense of absolute certainty about this. I’d made the right decision. I was sure of it.
Another text popped up; YES! It’s about time u came home.
I smiled and shut my eyes. That’s how it felt to me, too: like coming home.
One Year Later…
Happily ever after…
What comes after happily ever after?
I mean, once we close the book and sigh happily, do the Prince and his Princess drive on unobserved, holding hands and cuddling up in their golden carriage? Or does the Princess wriggle away from her hero, snapping: “You’re ruining my dress, for chrissakes, stop sitting on it” as the Prince, engrossed in the latest issue of Men’s Health, dreams of buff bodies and tunes her out?
I suppose what I’m saying is, it wasn’t until I was flying from New Zealand to Seattle that I stopped to consider the small print of my happily ever after. And was completely terrified. I mean, no question Garry and I were in love and were meant to be together, but how exactly was it going to work on a daily basis?
Arriving in Seattle, I was relieved to find Garry in a similar state; so, agreeing we’d take it one day at a time, he gave me a key to his house and I moved in.
Real life caught up with me almost immediately. I’d been traveling for ages, and deadlines for long-overdue articles circled ominously overhead like hungry vultures. But since—as I’d just proven—technology meant that wherever I lay my Mac, that’s my home, we hatched a plan. I’d spend the rest of the winter with Garry in Seattle, soldiering through my U.K. deadlines, and Garry would carry on as usual, working the busy basketball season. This was the perfect solution, since it meant that straightaway we were forced to get on with our normal lives without being daunted by the big picture. And as a result, building a life together simply happened.
Gradually, my life in Seattle took shape. I was with a man I adored and adored being with; but I also instinctively recognized that my Soul Mate couldn’t give me everything I needed. Good friends; Seattle Athletic Club; KEXP, XM, and NPR on the radio…I went about finding the equivalent essentials to my life in London, and that made Seattle feel more like home.
But as much as I needed elements of my London life, being with Garry meant much more to me. Being around him seemed to bring a part of me to life that I’d almost forgotten about; for the first time in ages, I was someone’s girlfriend and didn’t feel on my own anymore. I don’t mean that to sound quite as self-pitying as it possibly does, or to imply that I didn’t already have special people in my life (if I were one of those people who drop their friends at the first sign of Love Action, I’d be the first to call myself a total cow). Finding your Soul Mate isn’t about having someone who replaces your friends; it’s a different relationship altogether. Now at the end of the day when I turn my computer off, I’ll go downstairs and Garry will be there, cooking dinner or lighting the fire. I’ll mix us a cocktail and find some good music, and another part of the day begins. Another part of me begins.
It’s a more intimate and private part of me that grows out of sitting across the table from my super-cute boyfriend, sharing a wonderful meal and catching up on the day, and falling asleep in his arms, knowing he’ll wake up wanting me, even though I haven’t brushed my teeth or combed my hair. I can be me. And no matter where Garry is, I feel a deep sense of peace from that honest and loving bond.
Look away for a minute when I say this, since it’s a bit embarrassing, but…my relationship with Garry makes me feel more attractive, too. And that feels a-m-a-z-i-n-g. Not because I’m looking to catch the attention of other guys (trust me—if I never go on another date again, that’ll be too soon), but because, deep down, I’m actually quite shy. I need to be with a man I really love and trust before I’m ready to explore the fun and power of being a woman. Garry reached in and gently drew out a part of me that had been shut down for ages. He does it with the tiniest things: always holding my hand when we walk down the street, letting me leave a silly outgoing message on our answering machine, going for walks when I know he’d rather drive, talking about feelings when I know he’d sooner eat broken glass…In relationships, the smallest things underpin the biggest. And, yes, it’s crazy that I had to travel literally to the ends of the earth to discover such a simple truth: that falling in love with a good man makes you happy.
But I did have to travel to the ends of the earth. It’s taken me this long to understand that I had to keep traveling to prove to myself that my instincts about Garry were right, and also to give Garry the chance to back out. I didn’t want to date another commitmentphobe, nor did I want to give up the things in life I loved, like the freedom to travel. I wanted him to know me for who I was and still want me. I set us both a tough test because I was scared and I needed to be sure. I needed us both to be sure.
And all that traveling and testing brought me here: to the man I always dreamed of, but never dared hope I’d find. And part of what makes being with Garry so right is that, for all its glorious magic, our relationship is really very normal. He can’t fathom how I can spend hours wandering around stores and come away at the end of it empty-handed; I fail to grasp the allure of NASCAR or Iron Chef. But it works. We’re matched, and that’s the essence of a Soul Mate: someone who’s like you to a point, and someone you like enough beyond that point to be open to their ideas and interests. You’ll probably laugh to hear that this summer Garry and I, the famously seasick woman, bought a little sailboat called Date #55.
Everyone else seems to have picked up on what a perfect match Garry and I are. In fact, it’s quite extraordinary how thrilled but totally matter-of-fact all my friends seem to be about the outcome of my quest.
Darling, you look like you’ve been together forever.
Posh PR Emma emailing from Sydney
My parents, who’d been understandably anxious that I was dating my way around the world, have become very fond of Garry (as I am of his parents):
It’s a long time since I’ve seen you looking this happy….
My mother emailed after my last visit back to England (making me realize, not for the first time, that mothers see far more than they ever let on).
Now a year has passed since I ended my Dating Odyssey, and as I look back over the incredible adventure that led me to Garry, I feel a sense of wonder and pride. Did I really travel around the world in eighty dates? Did Garry really say he was okay with me continuing after I met him? Now that it’s all over, it seems a crazy thing to have done; yet at the time it felt like the most logical and practical course of action.
I think of my Dates often. I honestly hope I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings: They are good people and deserve to find their Soul Mates and happiness, too. I don’t want to be the only person who benefited from my Dating Odyssey. In fact, I’d like to think some of them will try aspects of it for themselves. You, too. Like the Relationship Résumé or the Soul Mate Job Description. And although I suspect my solution isn’t for everyone, I did learn a couple of things that possibl
y are. Firstly, that before I could find my Soul Mate, I had to be brutally honest about how much room there was in my life for him, and be prepared to rearrange my priorities accordingly. Secondly, that I believed that with hard work, I would find an exciting job, lovely friends, and a body that didn’t wobble too much when I walked—yet, strangely (or perhaps because I’d been hurt and disappointed before), I had no such expectations of my love life. When it came to earning a decent boyfriend, I lacked the same confidence and ambition.
My journey around the world in eighty dates changed all that and gave me reason to take a huge leap of faith. I am indebted to those friends, both old and new, who allowed me to see what total nonsense it is to believe (with apologies to Nat King Cole) that “When I fail in love, it will be forever.”
—Jennifer Cox
December 2004
Acknowledgments
This book would not have been possible without the help and encouragement of a huge number of people. For any I now fail to thank, sorry, but you know what a thoughtless cow I can be.
Firstly, I owe a huge debt of thanks to my agent and dear friend Lizzy Kremer from David Higham Associates; such a rock throughout the entire researching and writing process, she made granite look positively flighty. Also to Grainne Fox at Ed Victor Ltd., who had an unerring knack for buying me strong cocktails at just the right time. I would like to thank all at Random House for their tireless support, enthusiasm, and hard work, in particular my editor Nikola Scott, who did a brilliant job while resisting the temptation to shout Do you know what a deadline is? Also Susan Sandon for her open door and desktop Mr. Right.
My family and friends deserve some kind of an award for making not only their address books but also their time and patience available throughout my obsessive soul searching. I lost track of the number of “No it wasn’t you, it was him” and “You are KIDDING—if it was me, I would’ve called the police” emails, phone calls, and cups of coffee/glasses of wine moments that kept me going. In particular I would like to thank: my sisters, Madeleine and Rosalind Cox, for late-night chats and afternoons at the Sanctuary, and my best friends, Belinda Rhodes, Charlotte Hindle, and Cath Urquhart, for helping me remember boyfriends I’d managed to forget, for my Relationship Résumé. For never mentioning the times when my cookie eating spiraled out of control, thank you to my special friends: Paula Shutkever, Eddie Mair, Ian Belcher, Hector and Ang MacKenzie, Linda Ferguson, Jude Espie, Sheena MacBain, Eleanor and Adam Garland, Jeannette Hyde, Sarah Long, Sara-Jane Hall, Malgosia Czarniecka, Simon Calder, Jilly Mead and Stevie Bee Benbow, Lyn Hughes and Paul Morrison, Tania Cagnoni, Paul and Jude Mansfield, Nigel Tisdall, Steve Bleach, Sue D’Arcy, Rob Ryan, Alison Rice, Dea Birkett, Sally Shalam, Sophie Campbell, also Anna Cherrett.
Not to mention all the people who helped with the Is there a plane that leaves later than 5:30 a.m.? logistics of the trip itself. Fujifilm for the S300 digital camera that captured my dating high- and lowlights, Karin Hop at the Netherlands tourist board, Ann-Charlotte and Emelie at the Swedish tourist board, as well as Madeleine Meech at Travel PR. Catherine Raynor at VSO, Allesandra Smith at the Italian tourist board, Elena at Il Club di Giulietta, all at Berlin Tourismus Marketing GmbH, Nim Singh at the Canadian Tourist Commission, Jill White and Wendy Burns at Yukon tourism, Erika Brandvik at the Las Vegas CVB, Susie and Anna at Cellet PR, Jenni at First PR, Wendy King and Olaf Kaehlert at the LA CVB, all at Missoula CVB, Kylie Clark at JNTO, Abi and Khun Lilly at the Tourist Authority of Thailand. And in particular, a huge thank-you to all who helped me with the very end—therefore at the apex of my Ummm, it might be Friday, it might be Wednesday—it’s hard to say at this point wavering. In particular Fiona Reese, Viv Kessler and Emma Humphreys at BGB and Associates, Rae White, Jac and Belinda at WATC, Kate Kenward at the ATC in London, Kate Bailey at the ATC in Sydney, Karen Reid at Random House Australia, Susie Tempest at Saltmarsh PR, and all at Tourism New Zealand and Air New Zealand.
I am extremely grateful to all my Dates for taking me out and showing me a good time, as well as the Dates who would have taken me out if only things had worked out differently. In particular, David O, Per, Beaver, and the VSO man working as a yak cheese farmer on the Chinese-Mongolian border.
When I arrived in Seattle at the end of my adventure to write this book, there were some people without whom it would never have felt like home: Bette “Burien” Allen, Terri Bassett, and Ann Anderson, as well as Judy and Gerry Greth, Hank and Rachel, JR, Doug, Jon, and OB.
And talking of adventures, I’d like not only to thank Lloyd, my getaway driver, but also to thank and apologize to Louise Kiely at Queenstown House B&B in New Zealand. The first person I spoke with following the dramatic final forty-eight hours of my journey, she made the mistake of innocently asking over breakfast how my visit was going.
At various points I have changed names and blurred the edges of personalities and events in the telling of my story. I wanted to spare people’s blushes but also to emerge with my social life vaguely intact.
I would like to thank everyone for helping me with my quest, but none more so than Garry Greth, who took it all in his stride and made his home my home.
A sincere and heartfelt thank-you to you all.
