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From Plaid to Prada: Meet Mr. Perfect

From Plaid to Prada: Meet Mr. Perfect -

I am thrilled that my last article “Bidding Adieu to Dapper Dean” gave you (the readers) some closure! I intended to pick up on the Ambitious Adam series because I know you must be waiting on the edge of your seat to know what happened on that awful date with the surprise guest — Adam’s mother. However, I don’t have the energy to write a 2,500 word column overnight as I’m still adjusting to my new job, but I am clearly swayed by my readers, so I’m going to give ya’ll what you’re asking for. I’m going to briefly introduce Mr. Perfect from last week’s article. While I have not yet circled back to him to ask his permission, I’ll only give you a teaser until he gives his blessing.

First, let’s start with how Mr. Perfect came into my life. Three years ago, while I ate my way through my seven-week vacation in Italy, I was feeling stuck in my life. Contrary to popular belief, it was not due to the fact that I was inhaling pasta at an hourly rate, which left me bloated and tipping the scale at “danger.” Nor was it due to the fact that I had been laid off from my dream career. Ok, it was a culmination of those two things along with one simple fact; I was frolicking throughout the most romantic country alone. My older brother did pay his brotherly dues and took pity on me by taking me out for gelato. Nightly. Sadly, not enough hazelnut gelato could fill the void in my lonesome heart.


I finished exploring Verona, the city where Romeo and Juliet was set. In fact, I even went to her balcony and witnessed a dozen marriage proposals within a matter of minutes. Love was being regurgitated over every inch of Italy. After going into a spastic hypertonia from all of the public displays of affection, I took refuge at a corner restaurant, with you guessed it, a bowl of pasta and my journal.

I wrote out a detailed list of what I wanted in a mate, even down to his mannerisms. The best way to visualize and manifest is to write out your desire(s). Three pages, front to back, were laced in attributes of “My Perfect Guy.” After I sketched out my victim, I meditated on it for the remainder of my trip. If you hold a thought for 68 seconds, the Law of Attraction is activated. It’s the law of the Universe. I took that up a notch and visualized at a minimum of twenty minutes (maximum an hour) a day for six weeks. I was so deep in my visualization that I ended up seeing the aura of the future Mr. Perfect.

When I arrived back to the States, my Italy journal got boxed away and I went on with my life. I forgot about my love-project. I went on dating and moved throughout California eight more times. I added a few more items to my mental list of “Mr. Perfect,” but I did not pick up that same routine as I did in Italy.

Fast forward to this past spring, I got initiated into my Sufi tariqa, Naqshabandi. When you take initiation, you are being linked to the entire line of Sheikhs from the order. This purifies and protects you. The purification cleanses your etheric body and soul. All of my prior manifestations were starting to come into fruition because I was purified of any blockages. In April while sitting in prayer, I opened up my heart and simply prayed, “Ok, God. I’m ready now.” I sat in meditation and within a few minutes the same aura I saw years ago in Italy was before me. A week later, a close friend of mine asked if I was interested in meeting a friend of hers. I’ll never forget that phone call, where she said, “So, I never thought of him for you before because you usually date high level men. He asked about you and you guys have a similar sense of humor. I honestly think you two would get along really well!”

“High level men?” I asked.

“Yeah, you know… doctors, lawyers, ballers.”

“That was never intentional and we know how they’ve all turned out. But sure, I’m open to it!” I replied.

“Really? Don’t you want to see a picture first?”

“Is he kind? Is he a good person? How’s his spirituality?” I probed.

“He’s a really, really good guy. Um, I don’t know him that well on his spirituality but he practices.”

“Ok cool. Wait. Is he the type of guy that’ll wife me up in a week and expect me to run around the house barefoot, popping five kids out in four years? Because I can’t handle that kind of crazy.”

Inquiring minds needed to know.

“Definitely nothing like that. He’s liberal. Here, take a look at his social media account.”

She gave me his screen name and within seconds I was overwhelmed.

“What are all of these pictures of a toaster car? What is he G.I. Joe?! I literally don’t see one legit picture of him,” I said.


“Ok look, if he’s not a barbarian, an alcoholic or missing any teeth, then I’m down.”

“Just trust me!” She said.


A month and a half later, we went on our first date. For the first time, when I got ready for a date, I was not nervous or dreading it. I did not have the feeling of wanting to cancel or think of an exit strategy beforehand. I felt very calm. When he picked me up, in a dark alley — which definitely had a strong Lifetime movie creepy vibe undertone — I felt a shock between us. I literally felt a jolt and I even twitched. I had to turn my face away from him and look at the car door to hide my reaction. It wasn’t that he was “the sexiest” man I had ever seen. Let’s be real, it was already dark, after all. I didn’t even fully access his looks until we arrived at the restaurant and sat across from one another. However, the intensity of his energy was palpitating.

He had the whole Soulsexual swag down! (Soulsexual: a peson who is sexually attracted to another’s being as a whole-their soul). A spiritually evolved man is not only the sexiest thing, it’s also the best trait a man has to offer. After a few deep breathes, I calmed myself down and the rest of the night was magical. I felt like I had known him for centuries. Conversation flowed and I laughed so hard that my hair frizzed up. I could also blame the awful beach weather, but it doesn’t make for a good story line. That night went extremely well, we shut down two different restaurants before the night was over!

“I never knew this level of happiness existed.”

He captivated me just two weeks into our courtship. By week three, after another magical date in Venice beach, I had fallen. I’m pretty sure I didn’t walk up the stairs to my home that night. I floated. This feeling of complete bliss is very unlike my Capricorn self, especially in a very unusual time frame. The mutual friend who introduced us even commented, “I’ve never seen you this happy.” To which I replied, “I never knew this level of happiness existed.”

Why was he so different, you ask? Because he showed me kindness when I only knew indecency. He expressed generosity when I only knew greed. He gave me acceptance when I was only given disapproval. He offered me trust when I was only shown uncertainty. He provided safety when I only knew danger.

My soul connected with his because he was also [spiritually] awake. Deep in my soul, I know I am a loner. I have tried to blend in with the dating world but the more people I dated, the more disappointed I became. Therefore, I learned to enjoy myself, my family, and a few of my friends. This isn’t me being emo or jaded. On the contrary, it’s an existential truth because only those people who are capable of being alone are capable of love. They are capable of sharing space and can delve into the core of another person without possessing the other. Mr. Perfect was the first man that I craved to be around. It wasn’t that I was becoming dependent or addicted to him. I was vibe-ing with his vibes.

A month after meeting him, I was organizing my stack of books and stumbled upon my journal from Italy. I opened it and read my list. The shock I had when I read he possessed almost every single trait cannot be put into words. He was only missing three out of the gazillion; he was not 6’4, half Greek/half Egyptian, nor did he have blue eyes. Other than that, he was in fact, “My Mr. Perfect.”

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From Plaid to Prada: Meet Mr. Perfect -

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