When I was young, I was like most kids in that I had no idea what I wanted to “be” when I grew up. Would I become a doctor? A lawyer? An artist? It was fun to think about when I was thinking about it, which wasn’t all that often.
But, in my defense, a diagnosis of aggressive cancer when I was 20 years old distracted me. Fighting for my life, which was a fight I fortunately won, gave me perspective on what matters and what doesn’t. When someone asked me during those very dark days what I couldn’t live without, the only answer I had was love. The rest, well, that was debatable.
Honestly, it was freeing. Keeping up appearances? Worrying about what other people thought of me? Listening to what well-meaning people believed they knew was good for me? I wanted none of it.
I graduated from college with a clean bill of health, and with it, a clean slate. I was determined only to live and find what and whom I could be passionate about, however that would transpire. My first order of business was going to work after graduation. So when the time came to look for a job, I was open to ideas and opportunities.
To some people, including my parents, it may have looked as if I lacked direction. Perhaps there was some truth to that. However, my receptiveness, my willingness to explore different paths, is what ultimately led me to the position of a lifetime — matchmaker.
“You’re going to do what?” my father asked with a strange look on his face. “You’re going to make matches for a living?”
“Yes,” I answered matter of factly for at least the third time that day, though I didn’t understand why he still seemed so confused. That is until I realized he thought I was, quite literally, going to make the kind of matches that fit into a matchbook. Oh, do I love my dad!
Lucky for me, my parents were supportive, and I began my “apprenticeship” with a local matchmaker who showed me the ropes at the time. Back in those days, more than three decades ago, matchmaking was not a mainstream, modern-day profession like it is today, despite having existed for centuries in many cultures.
Matchmaking, the art of pairing two people unknown to each other based on the expertise and intuition of the matchmaker and what that matchmaker sees as compatible characteristics, lifestyles, and goals between them, fell out of favor when online dating took off. Why use a matchmaker, singles asked, when there’s online dating? I’ll tell you: Because it works.
I honestly was surprised when I first got into this field that more people weren’t doing it, and more singles weren’t using this method to find love. I guess there was a reason. And that is, making matches is as much a skill set as it is an innate gift.
Not only did I discover I was good at my work, but what I also received, as did my clients, was something that could never be measured in money, and that was happiness. My clients were happy because, as a result of the matches I picked for them, they met someone special with whom they could share their lives, during good times and trying ones. Someone who they loved. It was a great gig for the present, I thought. What more could a girl in her twenties ask for?
A lot, actually. I wanted what I was finding for my clients. And if I hadn’t learned what it takes to make sustainable matches, I would’ve passed Mike right by, the guy I ended up marrying — and staying married to — all of these years and three children later. The guy who wasn’t my usual type, the guy who I didn’t think was all that funny on our first date, and the guy who, at first, didn’t give me the butterflies I felt with all of those other wrong guys.
There was obviously something between us, maybe not the brightest of sparks, but something. I just didn’t know what it was yet. Thankfully, I stuck around long enough to find out.
I had been in the matchmaking field for a little while when Mike and I first met. What I had already seen with my clients was that I made the best matches when I deviated from their MO, from what they kept doing but was never working for them. So, Mike and I continued to date and got to know each other better. Turns out, he was my type after all. Four years later, we married.
I want that for you. That being marriage. If, of course, you want marriage. And, if you don’t, that’s great, too. I want you to have the relationship you envision, one characterized by mutual respect, compassion, emotional support, happiness, and most of all, love.
A tall order, no doubt. Especially today, when 21st-century dating means wading through a dating pool that feels more like an ocean. And why, as part of the concierge dating services I offer, I can turn that ocean back into a pool. Merging my now digitized “little black book” of eligible singles with multiple online dating platforms, I present every client with a pared-down group of viable matches.
Chosen and vetted exclusively for you, the list I bring to you, handpicked by me, not some assistant, is the list you wouldn’t have sourced for yourself. And therefore, it’s the list with the most chances for success.
Even better is that with my ’round-the-clock services and “my office never closes” policy because I am the office, I’m always only a phone call away, 24/7, to offer you honest relationship advice, experienced guidance, and tried and true dating tips. And the chance for me to become the most trusted wingwoman you’ve ever had.
