Vincent actually has been pretty busy putting into application what I’ve been teaching him.  What has been most interesting to me working with him is realizing how your dating life is a direct reflection of the “heath” in other areas of your life too.  I’ll make sure to write something about that soon.

In the meantime, I was honored and humbled by reading what Vincent thought of me when he first met me.  I am reposting the post he initially wrote from his blog below.

Enjoy!

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Khiem

People watching can be fun, well sort of.  I tell myself that because right now I’m people watching; watching for my dating coach to show up.  I know what he looks like, I found him on his blog at KissNTale.com.  But he doesn’t know what I look like.  This could be fun I thought, really fun.  Did I have a particular book I’m reading, Dostoyevsky perhaps, or maybe I’m sporting a tan plaid fedora, with a blue feather to the right.  Every cliché in the book right, throw in coffee shop and Beverly Hills while you’re at it.  But no, I’m not that obvious, and I’m not that cheesy.  There is nothing to give me away.

It’s been thirty minutes, I get a bit anxious, if this was a date, the girl’s probably not going to show (actually he did say he was running late, but…).  Speaking of women, there’s this hot girl who spoke to me earlier, told me to cut in front of her in line, says she’s also waiting for someone.  And here she is, this petite blonde bambina, dressed in black stretch cotton tights, with a pink word prominently advertised on her behind, so ubiquitous, too ubiquitous (pink words on black pants that is).  She moves past me once or twice, adding cinnamon to her latte, looking around a bit.

Of course I didn’t say anything to her, didn’t even really look at her other than a few passing glances.  This is precisely the kind of bullshit that needs to be taken care of, my fear of talking to new people (and not just women).  That’s why I need my dating coach.  Wait… where is my dating coach Khiem.  Khiem… that girl, she must be Khiem’s friend, that’s why she was loitering around trying to find out who this mysterious client is of his is.

Dancer girl left eventually (every girl who’s cute is “dancer girl” to me).  I should’ve spoken to her. Oh well there’s another cute girl in front of me, waiting in line for her coffee or tea or whatever it is that… but someone got her attention, this tall, fit, young, confident, Asian man casually, confidently says to her “hi, how’s your day.”  They speak a bit, then he turns towards me, walks towards me and says “hi, you’re Vincent right?”

I would have loved to savor giving someone a hard time, watching the confused expression on someone’s face as I pretend to be Waldo, hidden, find me somebody.  But Khiem my dating coach found me the second he walked in.  But how did you know it was me, you don’t even know what I look like.

“I just know,” Khiem replied.

How does he just know?

But that’s the point I guess, dating coaches, they’re supposed to just know.

Knowing is everything, what to do, how to act, knowing women, understanding both men and women.  My dating coach took the time to get to know me, who I am as a person, to really understand my issues, my struggles, my dreams and passions, and whether those passions are being put into motion.

I have a good feeling about this, about Khiem, about myself, about my dating life, about my passions, about life… because they are all interconnected in a way. I feel hopeful, positive, a bit exhausted and writer’s block.  I’ll leave it at that for now.  The Wisdom of Khiem will have to come at a later post…

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Reflections

Coffee.  Strong, pungent aroma.  The smell of morning.  I imagine that smell to get myself to wake.  The earlier I awake, the more drowsy my mind; and the drowsier my mind, the better.  The enemy is aging, fine lines are the signs, the mirror on the bathroom wall reflects.

Mirror, mirror on the wall.  Sometimes we do need is a mirror, but a different kind of mirror, a social mirror.

I met Khiem, my dating coach, at a café on Beverly Hills.  He looks confident, too confident.  The mirror in my mind is churning in the background:  is this going to work, is he going to be able to help me, is he going to like me…

And then he spoke, and the conversation felt like morning, the good parts of morning, past the mirror, past the smell of toothpaste.  It’s the slightly later parts of the morning, cream cheese melting on a warm bagel, the smell of coffee, watching the swirl of cream dissolving into darkness, changing it, lightening it, transforming it.  And then there’s the taste.  Enjoying coffee is like enjoying wine, the life of coffee, where did the beans come from, who tended the coffee bean, the way it was roasted… but I digress.

Khiem and I had a long conversation, but mostly it was about me, the life of me, where I grew up, what experiences shaped me, where I am in life.  An hour passes and it felt like minutes.  The mirror in my mind fades and the self consciousness dissolves like coffee brightening to a lighter hue.  I’m just enjoying the moment in conversation.

He then said to me, “You are bold, fun and sexy. You’re actually not shy. You need to change the labels you give yourself.”

Khiem’s right, people have told me that I’m not shy, but in my mind I’ve always thought of myself as shy.

The labels I have about myself go just beyond shyness, the mirror in my mind is distorted, self consciousness based on faulty premises. Modus Ponens, valid but not sound.

A good coach is also a good social mirror, to see you as you really are, and how you could be.
“There are many aspects to a person’s personality; the key is the focus on those aspects relevant to the situation,” Khiem said. “For dating, focus on bold, exciting and sexy.”

So I guess the next time I see a woman I find intriguing, I’d have to ask myself, what would a bold, exciting and sexy man do and say.

Perhaps that’s the only way to change the mirror in our minds.

If you asked 20 years ago if anyone knew a dating coach, you’d be hard press to find an answer.  When did we, as social creatures, started to need a guide or an expert to teach us how to find love?  Isn’t our desire to find a mate innate to our DNA?

As our lives get more complex, what does it take to attract the kind of people we want to date and marry?

If I was to self-promote, I’d say everyone needs a dating coach.  But that’s not what I’m here to write about today.  Today, I want to answer the one question I get all the time when I tell people that I am a dating coach:  what kind of people come to you for services?

Please meet Vincent.

Vincent is like you and me.  He’s just a regular guy, living his life the best way he can but for whatever reason, as he gets close to his 30th birthday, he feels the need for a dating coach.  From his words to me, he feels an urge to really change his life for the better… and that’s why he contacted me.

So with his permission, I am reposting a couple of blogs he wrote on his own site so that you can see for yourself that the people who come to me for guidance are really normal people, like you and me.  What is amazing to me is the story that drove him to contact me.

(Click the link below the picture to read the rest of the post)

Read on.  

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The Last Five Years

Have you heard of or seen the show “America’s Got Talent?” How about “So You Think You Can Dance” or “Dancing with the Stars,” it seems one can’t turn on the television without at least catching a glimpse of those shows a few times.  I’ve seen an episode or two myself, and the performers are amazing, but I just can’t watch those shows.  Five years ago I was young, or at least I felt young.  Five years ago as I felt as young as the dancers and performers on those shows:  vibrant, energetic, hopeful.  I felt passion in motion.  I felt creativity flowed through my body.  I felt choreography that needed to be expressed.  Five years ago, I didn’t have wrinkles on my face, and I believed in… a lot of things.

A lot can happen in five years, or a lot of nothing can happen.  The last five years for me has been pretty lonely, passion-wise and romance-wise, everything-wise.

Something intense, even if it didn’t last forever, would be nice.  I’d rather have “love and lost,” but so far I’ve “never loved at all.”  I knew this year I needed to move in a different direction, something riskier, bolder, sexier, something more exciting, more passionate; something to reignite my desire to thrive.  Right now I just need fuel, instant gratification before I can fly again.

I thought my passion was motion, lines and rhythm:  to create a visual moving image, converting the texture and moods of sound into something visual tangible, to transform moods into movement, to dance.  I was wrong.

Dance is only the language.  Technicality, musicality and so on… knowing how to dance and dancing well is like mastering the English language, poetry and grammar, but what I really wanted, what we as human beings really want, is to communicate and to share something.

Share not anything, only something that is amazing, vibrant and fun.  I want to share something intense, passionate, deep and rich.  Something moving, soft and intimate, powerful and aggressive, graceful, beautiful, intense, hot. Intelligent, thoughtful, creative, intriguing.  I want it all.

Where is the woman who can set my passions in motion?  Where’s my dancer?  Where’s my artist, my singer, my philosopher, my poet, my equal, my woman?  I think I should have found and met her a long time ago, because the poetry that longs to be in motion in my soul won’t yearn forever, and I’ve already felt a few petals of my heart wither.

So to help set my passion in motion, I’ve contacted a dating coach, I can’t wait to meet him this Saturday.

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Spunky

It’s hard to describe but you know it when you see it.  We’re talking about a splash of color, bright screaming neon colors, maybe bright purple, orange, pink, green even.  Think color designer, no wait… think interior decorator, think designer, think of a palette that speaks sophisticated but a little crazy, sexy, fun.  I’m talking about a girl.  Maybe tan classy, plaid dressy slacks, maybe a white dressy button up shirt, but luxurious and shiny silver diagonal stripes, very subtle, barely visible.  You know what, it’s not even her style, it’s more of her look, her expression, her walk.

She glides into the room, into a coffeeshop, into your view, her posture impeccably even, hips torso, head, eyes directly forward in the direction of her travel.  That is until she turns to look at you, a very slow controlled deliberate, subtle turn of her head, you see her eyes slowly widen, her smile slowly opens… you know she’s a dancer, the classically trained kind.

But what ruins her image is this silly-isly bright pink hair.  And then a split second later, a second glance, I see those shades of brightly color strands, how it compliments her pastel tan slacks, how it compliments her green eyes. Silly bright neon pink evolves into audacious, bold, sexy and fun.  Classically trained no doubt but you know she can swing.  Elegant but with a splash, a generous heavy douse, of spunky.

Classy spunky girls have never in my life fail to make my heart skip a beat.

I know what I want, I know what I have to offer, so why am I still single.  When you get older, a little part of you do die, but then that song from Webber’s “Aspects of Love,” plays in my head, “I’m still young don’t forget, it isn’t over yet, so many hearts for me to thrill.”

That’s why I need a dating coach, because spunky girls intrigue me. Because I’ve never dated a spunky girl before.  Because I want to.  Because even as I’m waiting to meet my dating coach, I can’t help but think of the girl that I want.  I can’t wait.

If you think women tell their girlfriends everything, people tell me everything and more.  If someone is hot with clothes but not without, I know it.  If someone is awesome at sucking cock, eating pussy, loves rough and raw sex like no other, I know it too.

If the guy/girl you are going out with is a boring date, I know that as well.  What the guy/girl doesn’t know is that they aren’t going to get any anytime soon with the person who told me about them.

From overly small or large body parts, to bedroom quirks, to extremely good or bad dates, to stupid relationship fights, to unexpected emotional wounds, I get it all.  And the funny thing about it all… I don’t judge people any more positively nor negatively for it.

I still love it:  the gossip AND the people!

That’s what makes love great, doesn’t it?

And this is where the following letter comes in.  This is what one of my former clients experienced with one of his online dates.  The first couple times he met her, everything seemed pretty kosher.  Little would he know he was in for a surprise.  So with his permission, I’m reposting a parody letter he would have loved to send to the said Psycho Girl.

Read on to find out what happened.

Dear Psycho Girl,

I’m writing you this letter to let you know that “yes” means “yes.”
When we’re fooling around, naked in bed, and you tell me, “yes, let’s
have sex,” I’m hearing, “yes, let’s have sex.”

I know you may have been on the fence at first, but when you and I are
hot and heavy, paws running freely on our bare bodies, and you finally
tell me multiple times that you want it, you shouldn’t be surprised at
what I do next.

So when I go to reach for a condom from the nightstand, and I open the
drawer and pick up a condom, there’s no need to scream at the top of
your lungs, “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT??!!!” like a demon on meth. You should remember that just 10 seconds ago, you said, “yes, let’s have
sex.”

And when I tell you that “maybe we should slow things down just a
bit,” that does not mean “please start unloading about all of the
shitty relationships and loser guys you had in the last 10 years.” I
don’t want to hear about the guy who owned a motorcycle who you
weren’t sure whether you were dating or not, nor do I want to hear
your technical definition of what you consider actually fucking and
hooking up.

If he’s put it in you, it’s called “yes, you did it.”

In fact, not remembering whether you had sex with someone from the
past is not an excuse for trying to remember aloud.  I’d work on
remembering things a little more immediate.

How about “yes, let’s have sex.”

I wish you all the best.

Sincerely,
A Guy Who Will Never Call You Back

P.S. – Yes, I got your text, and your email, and your second email.
Just for future reference, thanking me for being so “understanding”
after such a fiasco does not make me want you (any)more.

So here I turn back to you, my dear reader.  What are some of the more interesting and extravagant experiences you’ve had while dating.

It’s storytelling time!!!