Father Knows Best

The other morning, during brunch with my family, my dad happened to mention that there is a new online dating service called Chemistry.com. "It's supposed to be great," he said enthusiastically. "Dad," I exclaimed, exasperated, "I've already done Chemistry.com. And did I find even one date to go on? Even one? Nope! Jeez." He was taken aback, I think, and surprised that I actually look for dates on my own sometimes.

My poor father. Oh, the things he's been through. Very soon after I graduated from college and was spending my potential dating time hanging out with rowdy fellow food servers in smoky bars rather than with potential husband material, he offered to pay for me to join a service called "Dinner for Six." He even brought home brochures adorned with glossy photos of people (six of them!) clearly enjoying fantastic conversations with each other and making love connections, all while eating a gourmet meal. Of course, I was horrified and refused to join any such service. I didn't need a service! Who did he think his daughter was? Some troll-girl who couldn't get a date on her own? I blew him off and instead continued to hang out with my rowdy group of friends. I remained dateless. For like, years.

Okay, that's not exactly true. I dated random guys here and there (most of them flagrantly NOT husband material). Then, seemingly out of the blue, I decided I was gay. Clearly. I took my dad to lunch to break the news to him. I wanted his support and his understanding. I certainly didn't want him to act shocked and appalled. He didn't. In fact, not only was he not shocked or appalled, but he didn't even seem to believe that I was gay. And if I was, well then, no big deal. No big deal? Was he going to start searching for gay dating clubs for me to join now? Was this some bizarre reverse psychology tactic? We'll see how much of "not a big deal" this is when I start bringing my girlfriends home for dinner, I thought. So I dated a girl (who I met without the help of any dating service) for a few weeks. Then, definitely not out of the blue, I decided I was straight. Clearly.

There might have been a lull in his efforts for a while then. Did he tell me about Match.com? I can't remember, but I don't think so. That was one service for the loveless that I tried on my own. The only love connection that I made through Match.com was when I invited my friend to go on my first Match.com date with me and my date invited his friend to come along too, and now the two of them are engaged to each other. Isn't that just so damn cute? My date and I only went on one other date after that first date, and I ended up ditching him for another guy half way through. Yeah, I know. My dating karma has got to be bad.

And then my father seemed to give up for a while. I was in law school and I thought I had met the love of my life. And if he wasn't the love of my life (which was the case as it turned out), my dad probably figured I would have my new important and exciting legal career to keep me warm at night.

But although my dad might have given up on finding me a mate, he didn't give up on me. Instead, he switched to other topics, like self-esteem and career. My bookshelves are graced with such titles as: "The Tender Heart: Conquering Your Insecurity;" "Why Good Girls Don't Get Ahead but Gutsy Girls Do;" and "The Secrets of Savvy Networking." Typically, I have accepted his gifts and stashed them on my shelf without reading them, thinking to myself: "Who has time to read about being a "gutsy" girl when they are out living it? And what exactly is he implying anyway? Does he think I lack guts? Does he think I am insecure? What kind of support is that?!"

And so the books sit, gathering dust, until one day, I take one of them from the shelf, usually either while in the midst of a personal crisis or out of sheer boredom, and find that it is exactly what I need to read - find that I should have read it years ago. And the excitement in his voice when I tell him that I am finally reading the book that he gave me five years ago is so satisfying that I wonder why I didn't read it sooner - why I didn't show immediate appreciation for his knowledge and understanding of me - an understanding of me that I don't even have of myself, it often seems.

A few months ago, my dad heard a hypnotist interviewed on the radio. She had written a book, complete with CDs designed to put the listener in a state of hypnosis, called "The Dating Makeover: Four Steps to Attract the Love of Your Life." Naturally he bought it for me immediately and made a special trip to my office to present it to me in front of my co-workers. The package also includes a workbook chock full of writing exercises that allegedly illuminate your relationship patterns and where you have gone wrong in the past. When I saw that, I groaned. "Dad, who has time for this? Why can't I just meet a guy in a bar or at a party like normal people do?" Well, because I can't.

In fact, in order for me to meet a guy who I actually like and who likes me equally in return and who I don't mess it up with, may require hypnosis, therapy, and divine intervention. Considering all of this, I may actually listen to these CDs before the technology to do so becomes obsolete. After all, even though he is often an annoying pain in the ass, my dad has certainly proven himself to know best. About me and so much more.

The author just finished reading "The Tender Heart: Conquering Your Insecurity," in which she discovered that she, like the patients in the book, was born with a sensitive temperament that lends itself to the crazies when exposed to events that remind her, even unconsciously, of certain events from her childhood. She had a stiff drink after finishing the book and felt much better.