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Micah January 28th

25 Dates.

While this blog is certainly a mix of personal and professional stuff, I very rarely will talk about my dating life. Thats because, well, on one hand, I am really private about that stuff (mostly out of respect for the other person), and well, on the other hand, I dont date a lot.

Tonight, my friends Danny and Christy suggested this 25 Dates idea. Basically, this is how it would work. I would ask, be asked, or get setup with 25 women, who I would spend some time with. The time would consist of coffee, lunch, dinner or drinks (whatever the woman decided, and was comfortable with), and I would write a blog post about each date outlining the experience and what I learned. The dates could be anywhere, not just Boulder/Denver. So things could always be set up when I traveled.

The women’s names would be anonymous (unless they gave me permission) and the posts would be in my style (which tends to be honest and sometimes humorous).

What I dont know is if this is a good idea? Im not doing it for any other reason that it would be great to meet a bunch of people outside of my small startup world, and the social experience would be interesting, and potentially really valuable.

Leave a comment telling me what you think. If you are interesting in participating (if its something I end up doing, which I will gladly announce here) shoot an email to 25dates AT currentwisdom [dot] com. Again, I have no idea if this is a good idea, but its certainly interesting.

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Micah July 27th

Accept Hope

Accept Hope Tattoo

Today an interesting conversation on twitter broke out among men and women about dating and relationships. Its an topic that has been bouncing around in my brain for some time recently.

Why?

Well, I am 36 years old and single. In Jew years, 36 is the point where I am either on my second marriage, or have kicked out 3 or so kids. Not single. In Jew years, I am the family member that people whisper “Yeah, Micah is not married yet. But look how successful he is! Whats that? No, we are pretty sure he is not gay.”

Some could argue that my pets are like my children. I do have 5 animals, two dogs and three cats.

But I will never beat up Billie‘s first boyfriend because he looked at her the wrong way.

I wont get a chance to remind Taylor that even though she is an athlete, boys will still like her.

I wont be able to bail Winston out of jail for joy riding with his friends.

I cant take Calin to get her first bra or buy birth control.

And, I will never be able to show how much I accept Max‘s life style or his new boyfriend (I am pretty sure my cat is gay) or see the shock in my grandmother’s face when they visit for the first time.

Most importantly, I continue to get the questions from my mom and grandmother. “Have you met any nice Jewish girls?”

“Yes, mom and grandmom,” I usually reply, “but they just havent met me yet. Right, its called the internet…”

The question that so many people have asked me, is, “why.”

“Why, Micah, I know plenty of women that are interested in you. I know plenty that have asked about you. Have you never had a serious girlfriend? Do you not date? Is there something wrong with you?”

Frankly, yes. Its called a brain defect.

You see, for most of my life, I have existed in one of two states. Manic or Depressed. When Manic, I loved it, but its a self-centered state of motion. You are constantly doing, talking, moving, creating, thinking….

Leaves little room for listening, accepting and all the other things that a relationship needs.

Or Depressed. For me, depression means: irritability, paranoia and lethargy.

Really great qualities for a relationship.

So early on, I gave up on the possibility of a relationship. Stopped trying, avoided situations and made myself completely unavailable.

That is until 6 months ago or so. Finally after years of self-medication, sobriety and therapy, I conceded to go to a shrink. I was finally ok with admitting that there was something physical wrong with me.

That I was not normal.

That I was broken.

That I was finally tired of trying on my own.

That if there was a pill or series of pills I could take to stop the mood cycles, I would do it.

So I went to a shrink. He spent an hour asking me questions, and at the end of the conversation. He said, “You have all the symptoms and signs of classic bi-polar II, or soft bi-polar.”

He spent another 30 minutes or so explaining what that meant. And he handing me a prescription.

I left his office and called my mom. I told her what the doctor said. And I cried.

The weight of 36 years of personal control of my feelings and moods slowly lifted, and it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I knew, just knew, that the doctor was right, and there was a light at the end of my tunnel.

Over the next six months, I continued to visit the shrink every couple of weeks, and a therapist weekly. I learned more about my disease, read a book called Why Am I Still Depressed? By Jim Phelps, which was like watching a film of my life and behaviors.

Each time I learned something new, I felt the need to be in complete control lift just a bit.

Then in about April or so, I decided I was ready to be open to others.

And while I am not married, or even seriously dating anyone, I am learning a ton. My sister said to me the other day, “Micah, its like you are smashing 36 years of emotional growth into 6 months. You are learning quickly, but its still about experiences.”

I think thats right. Education is not just thinking and learning, but its experiencing. Im working on that part where I can (its not like I can grab women off the street, exclaim “date me! I need the experience!” Although, sometimes that would make it easier….)

Instead, I ask lots of questions. (It seems to be safer, and less likely to bring restraining orders and police.)

Instead, I put myself out there.

Instead, I am allowing myself to be open to the possibilities, to accept hope and be vulnerable to the pain.

Instead, I refuse to go back to the comfortable life of throwing myself into my work, and allowing people to be superficially friends with me.

Instead, I write this blog, and tell the world, “this is me.”

And, I kinda like me.

Now I am accepting hope. The hope that one day, my mom will no longer be asking me if I have met any nice women, but rather will just telling me about how worried she is about my weight.

Oh, that will be a nice day.

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