I was a 29 year old virgin. Writing a column about sex and relationships helped me find my husband.
I was a 29-year-old virgin who turned her search for love into a dating blog.
Tired of waiting for my fairy tale to happen, I created my own.
I met my husband through this adventure; We just celebrated 11 years of marriage.
In 2003, armed with an MFA in performance, I moved to New York ready to embark on a career in the creative arts.
I moved into a female-only residence – having attended female-only schools, I was drawn to the idea of reliving some of those times with shared meals and activities.
It was also the only way to find an affordable place in Gramercy with key access to the exclusive park.
Two weeks after I moved into my closet-sized room on the 13th floor, the Northeast blackout of 2003 hit. For the next five days, I found myself in the top floor common room of my new home with a dozen other residents gorging on episodes of “Sex and the City” until the batteries ran out. of all our devices are running out.
Unlike the characters on the show, I was a virgin in my late twenties. Little did I know that the show would open doors for my writing career and later help me find my husband.
It was like a setup for a joke
I had never really watched the series, which was entering its last season. But with this sudden burst of free time, it didn’t take long for me to catch up on the episodes.
A few weeks later, while auditioning for an on-air host job, I was thrilled when a casting director asked me to describe which “Sex and the City” character I was. . Of course, I said Carrie – although, unlike Carrie, I was a 27-year-old virgin doing very little to update her sexual status.
But I was old fashioned and wanted my first time to be with someone I liked. I hadn’t survived decades of cystic acne, jaw surgeries, and depression to “just grab a few margaritas and be done with it,” as my friend’s cousin had suggested.
I decided to do something about it
A few days into my 29th birthday, with no update on the sex front, I knew it was time to take matters into my own hands.
I started a column about a 29-year-old virgin looking for her first love: “No Sex and the City.”
The editor loved it, and the magazine wanted to go ahead with a blog dedicated to my research. It threw a ton of resources behind my pristine business, including hiring a dedicated PR person, letting me pick goodies from the loot closet, and completing an online survey where readers could choose who I would go out with next.
I even flew to Disneyworld and rode Big Thunder Mountain on one of my blind dates.
I rushed home or to my hotel room and blogged about every detail of each appointment. Even when I wanted to give up or lose hope, readers were always there to encourage me, support me and, in some cases, suggest meetings.
I was a writer who knew a story with a hook always sold
I wasn’t a doe-eyed virgin – I was an aspiring writer and comedian who knew this would provide endless material.
But through this process — which almost included a reality show and a book deal — I found true love. My husband and I just celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary and in May 2020 we welcomed our second baby via surrogate as I had had a little breast cancer in there to make life even more interesting.
If it weren’t for this show, I wouldn’t have been tempted to step out of my comfort zone and pursue my own New York dating experience. I have to be my own version of Carrie Bradshaw. And of course, my adventures haven’t always been filled with rejoicing and romance – but because of writing the blog and being featured, my life is fuller than I could ever have imagined. .
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