Medium Rare

Over the past few weeks, I have found myself enjoying the beginnings of new relationship. Since first setting my intention to have a life partner about a year ago, I have allowed myself to be vulnerable and have exercised a willingness to start new conversations. I met John innocently enough through some banter over an online match site. To the over-used question embedded in his profile, “Name six things you can’t live without,” John invoked the lyrics of an old Ian Dury and the Blockheads song. His answer: “Sex and drugs and rock ‘n roll…and three other things.” I thought this was pretty funny and decided to introduce myself.

A pleasant first date at an art fair and dinner date for a second act at a popular Lincoln Avenue restaurant was followed by a dinner he made for me at his place. He bought succulent rib eyes from the Paulina Market, a treasure of an old-world butcher shop that I patronize myself for special occasions. He greeted me affectionately at the door then offered the first of what was to be many choices I’d have during the evening.

“Are you hungry now or would you like a drink first?”

Other options followed. They rolled out so naturally, I didn’t think much about them at first.

“Would you like me to put on some music?” “Would you like a lemon or lime in your club soda?” “Would you like to eat in the dining room or the kitchen?” “Do you like walnuts in your salad?”

His manner was not patronizing or approval-seeking. He was simply soliciting my preferences and doing what he could to satisfy them. He only offered choices that he was able to supply.

Maybe the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but the way to this woman’s heart is through her sense of choice. Given choices and exercising my prerogative, on even small things, makes me feel like I am really being listened to, like my opinion matters. It shows me a sort of respect for my sovereignty, an understanding that I know what I want better than anyone else can assume.

“How do you like your steak cooked?” John asked, lowering his head and raising his glance to examine my expression.

“Medium rare,” I declared.

“Oh good, I hoped you would say that,” he said, acknowledging this latest discovery of one more thing we had in common. We both laughed.

Being sincerely asked your preference by someone committed to delivering it is no small thing.