By the time he drops me off at my door, I’ve exceeded my time limit by three hours and 32 minutes.
It’s kind of like blowing a diet: You know what you’re supposed to do, but then you see dessert, and will power goes out the window.
These days, however, the New York Times Vows section—famous for its meet-cute stories of the blissfully betrothed—is full of couples who trumpet the love they found through Ok Cupid or Tinder.
She then revises my profile, noting that I love cooking vegetables I grow in my garden, that Dave Chappelle has my kind of humor, that “meeting new people excites me: I could spend half an hour talking to the cashiers at Trader Joe’s.” Three-quarters of the profile should be about me, and the other quarter about what I want in a mate, says Hoffman, who tells me to be specific here, too: The goal isn’t to attract everyone, it’s to find The One. "In psychology research, we call this a 'variable reinforcement schedule,'" Lehmiller says.
I’m supposed to focus on how I feel, not on “the package”—but it’s hard when the package is so beautifully wrapped.
He's sweet, too, talking about his grandma, and we follow dinner with drinks.
Agreed—as a curvy girl, I want to avoid first-date surprises. I haven’t worn a Halloween costume since I went as a pack of grape Hubba Bubba in sixth grade.
If they're older/paunchier/have more neck bolts than he does in the photos, choose compassion, says New York dating coach Connell Barrett.