Monday night, I headed down to NYC’s Meatpacking District for dinner with my good friend Julie.
We met up at Fig & Olive, excited to take advantage of the bistro’s three-course Restaurant Week menu. I savored tuna tartar with avocado, truffled chicken paillard and a chocolate pot de crème that will go down as one of the most heavenly desserts I’ve ever consumed.
As Julie and I experienced gastronomic bliss, we talked about the ups and downs of being a writer, the shifting relationship timeline that accompanies getting older, and the importance of owning with pride your accomplishments. I didn’t realize just how deficient I’ve been about the latter until an awkward moment on a recent date.
Said date didn’t hesitate to share his opinion of this blog.
“It’s pretty basic. And it’s not exactly world changing.”
I didn’t know what to make of his comments. Though his words stung, I opted to say nothing, telling myself that I was being too sensitive.
Wrong, says Julie. Though whoever I date (and anyone else for that matter) has the right to their opinions, they do not have the right to belittle my work. But as Julie astutely pointed out, this will keep happening unless I stop downplaying what I do. I am a writer by trade and at heart — the man who is right for me will be supportive of that.
I’ve dated enough guys who have been encouraging to know it’s possible. And I’m thankful for dear friends like Julie who remind me I’ll find that again.