Hoda

by Hoda Kotb

  22

  DATING

  No one thinks that at age forty-four, they’ll be dating again. Oh, well. We never think our metabolism will shut off like a faucet, either. Dating again is weird. That’s the long and short of it. For so many years, I spent mornings, nights, and weekends with the same man. I kissed the same man. We finally figured out our sleep numbers. All the legwork was behind me—and then, “So, where did you grow up? Do you have brothers and sisters?” I’m starting again from ground zero.

  After my divorce in early 2008, the thought of dating again was not even a consideration for quite a while. My marriage was over well before all the papers were signed, so I guess it took me almost a full year before I was open to meeting men. Initially, I didn’t want to date a man who’d been married before. But then I decided that wasn’t a good idea, for two reasons: (1) at my age that shrinks the pool down to a small puddle, and (2) I determined that instead, I wanted to make sure I was with a guy who had a track record of commitment. A man should have some history of a long-term relationship (not necessarily marriage)—an ability to share his life. Having a second shot at a partner certainly makes you think about what you want this time around. I actually wrote down the three traits that were most important to me and tucked the paper into an envelope. I stashed it in a wooden box handmade by country singer Jo Dee Messina’s woodworking whiz husband—something special inside something special. I planned to open it when I met Mr. Right. You know what? I can’t even remember what I wrote down. Someday, I’ll read it and smile. I’ll bet I show him, too.

  When I finally did decide to dunk my baby toe in the dating waters, I was cautious. You know how it is. Someone breaks your heart and your trust, so you put up walls. Even though you shouldn’t, you see flashing danger signs all over the person sitting across the table. Some of the walls around me were fortified with bra straps. Dating after breast reconstruction includes added anxiety about “the Big Reveal.” Or in my case, “the Small Reveal.” Clearly, by our forties, we’ve got personal baggage and so do the people we date. Love after forty requires an additional skill: baggage handler.

  Here’s another dilemma—where the hell do you meet people? I don’t go to bars, I rarely grocery shop, and I am at the gym solely to exercise. I’m also not an Internet gal. My mom, on the other hand, is apparently in “eligible guy” hot spots constantly. “I met the nicest guy on the train for you!” she told me one day, very excited. Oh, Lord. She got his phone number and showed him my picture! I met him for coffee and that was it. Look, the minute my mom stops doing that I’m really in trouble because that means she’s given up hope.

  The starting place for me to meet people actually turned out to be small parties thrown by friends. I liked the idea of that—safe surroundings, reputable crowd, easy exit. I met some very nice men but nothing serious. Then, in April of 2009, our Today show producers booked the Kellehers. Jill Kelleher and Amber Kelleher-Andrews are a mother-daughter team who run Kelleher & Associates, a high-end matchmaking service with a twenty-plus-year track record. They were the stars of our “Matchmaking Series,” featuring singles from our viewing audience who agreed to be set up. Producers asked me if I’d be interested in getting “match-made” on the air as well. Sure! Why not? The Kellehers claimed an 85 percent success rate, and they were going to do all the legwork. Basically, the ladies conduct intensive interviews with both sides of the match and pair people who they feel share common ground. I would go on two dates with the guy they selected for me, and talk about the experience on the show. For me, the Kellehers selected a tall, handsome British bloke named John. He flew in from California to go on our dates. Good-looking and good-sounding with a suave English accent, John was impressive. I was looking forward to getting to know him better. So was Kathie Lee. She called it Frank’s “sniff test.” Kathie Lee wanted me to bring John over to her house for dinner as our first date so Frank could check him out. Fine. I love Frank, so why wouldn’t I want him to get “nosey” about my dating life? And so, in May, John and I went to the Giffords for a casual, fun dinner for our first evening together. We had a lot of laughs and I enjoyed his company. Frank seemed okay with him, but a few hours are not sufficient for a true read. The next evening, we planned to go to Mr. Chow, an upscale Chinese restaurant in Manhattan. John was sweet and brought me a dozen roses. (What would my fortune cookie say?) Dinner was enjoyable and it was nice to feel some chemistry again with a man. Afterward, we took a romantic carriage ride through Central Park. The next morning on the show, John joked that he had half-expected Kathie Lee to jump out of the bushes in the park. Turns out, in the end, John was not as available as we thought. He was already involved with someone at the time. But it was fun to meet him and I began to look forward to all those second “firsts”—the first handhold, the first hug, the first kiss.

  Five months later, our producers booked Diana Kirschner—psychologist, relationship expert, and author of the book Love in 90 Days. Three months? Tell us more. Diana’s theory makes sense. Her drill is to meet three guys, date them, let them know you’re dating other people, and don’t sleep with them. The concept is to develop a sampling of personalities, then recognize the traits that truly matter to you. Don’t complicate it with sex, and avoid the waiting-by-the-phone-for-one-person syndrome. Off the air, I met with Diana and came up with her requested “Mission Statement.” I’m going to keep that private, in case my mission changes. For several months, I followed the program and enjoyed the process. Go wide, not deep. I did not find love in ninety days, but in defense of Diana’s theory, I didn’t do a good job of following all the rules. No, not the sex part; just the dating of three different people. All the time required for that seemed too hard to carve out. I still think about Diana’s theory when I date now and appreciate her planting some very helpful seeds.

  “When am I taking you to dinner?” A gorgeous guy I met at a literacy fundraiser came out with that line. I loved his confidence. There really is a lot to like about the dating process. Picking out the right outfit, feeling those once-grounded butterflies again, wondering if you’ll get a good-night kiss. Certain things never go away, no matter how old you get. Neither do the shitty dates. I’ve already had my share of disappointments. (Granted, I may have doled out a few myself.) During a double date I was on with a girlfriend, my guy never reached for the check when it hit the table. Didn’t even flinch. He said, “Why don’t we let the ladies pay?” I prefer a gentleman. On another date, my suitor began eating his meal before mine even arrived. Really? A pet might do that, but a man should not. There have been times when I’ve wanted to leave in the middle of a date or even at the beginning. I couldn’t get my key in the front door fast enough. Again, I may have caused the same reaction for my date. That’s just how it is. I try to roll with it all. I also keep in mind not to put the sins of my former guy on guys I meet now. I don’t want to see the bogeyman in everyone. That’s not fair and it’s not real, either.

  I have to admit I have developed a question to speed up the dating process a bit. It may be a turnoff, but oh, well. I just feel like there’s so much time wasted trying to disarm the on-my-best-behavior person to get to the real person. If only we were all truthful from the start!

  So, here’s the question I sometimes ask men I’ve been dating for a few weeks: “If I lined up all the women you’ve had significant relationships with, what would they all say is the common reason the relationship didn’t work?”

  Pretty good, right? The answer is telling. It underscores a relationship “pattern.”

  One man told me—and I applaud his honesty—this: “I go after women until they fall in love with me and then I break up with them.”

  Check, please!

  Another man admitted—and again, I applaud his honesty—this: “I’m always looking for the next thing.” (He did say he’s changed now.)

  Always, they return the question, which is only fair.

  My answer is this: “They’d say I didn’t need them enough.�
�

  It’s true. I’m just not needy. But I think part of that is not being able to trust someone. I’m clearly a work in progress. I honestly feel zero panic (Kathie Lee). I’m a true believer in healing followed by hope. I do want to get married again. I like the idea of sharing my life with a good man. I’m better with someone else. He’ll have to have infinite patience with me and be there for me. My guy will stand the test of time and stand tall doing it.

  Hmm . . . what did I write in that letter I stashed away?

  23

  FORWARD

  What better way to wrap up my book than with a look forward. To the future. As you now know in my life (and probably in your own), there’s just no telling what’s coming next. In a way, that’s good. Would any one of us get up in the morning if we knew about some of the shit storms headed our way?

  I’m not a horoscope girl or a believer in otherworldly stuff, but in January of 2009, Today show fashion editor Bobbie Thomas gave me a unique gift. Bobbie’s a big fan of an astrologer named Carol Cummings, so she booked me an hourlong astrology reading with Carol, whose email address begins cosmic.carol. Now, “cosmic” to me means fun, not fact. So, I agreed to hear Carol’s predictions as a lighthearted adventure—a trip to the cosmos then back to my earthly existence. Before we spoke by phone, Carol asked me to email my birth time and date and other personal stats for her to plug into various celestial charts. She then mailed me a forty-page report detailing my Life and Soul Mission. (Forty pages?! Does the Mission come with staff?) Our one-hour follow-up phone call was to review the findings and discuss what was ahead for me. Fun, right?

  And it was. Carol could not have been nicer and told me up front that she had a very good track record after twenty-five years of astrological readings. “I’m not one hundred percent right, but I’m right about eighty-five percent of the time,” she explained.

  What did I have to lose? My Mission would be revealed, and then I’d get back to discussing the art of “flirtexting” with Kathie Lee and two guests.

  Because listening to someone else’s astrological reading is like watching someone else’s vacation videos (“Your fifth house is very busy and Pluto is opposing Venus . . .”), I’ll spare you the details.

  Here’s a synopsis of what I took away from the experience:

  1. I’m apparently a Double Leo. Finally, an explanation for this hair.

  2. At fifty-nine, I will finally realize how I’ve helped society evolve. Plenty of time to find the perfect dress.

  3. There is a very important love relationship in my near future to make up for all the loneliness in my past lives. Oh, darn, that will obliterate ninety percent of Kathie Lee’s material.

  4. I’m destined to write more books. Note to self: highlight and fax to publisher.

  Overall, it was an intriguing way to spend an hour. I appreciated Bobbie’s gift and Carol’s passion. I’ve now moved on with my daily doings, far below the blanket of stars that hold the “answers” to my future.

  I really don’t worry about what’s ahead. My measure of the “future” is more day-to-day than year-to-year. Scratch the five-year plan—I prefer to create mini milestones to skip across uncharted waters. Thinking any deeper is pointless and takes away from focusing on the good ol’ present. My crystal ball is calibrated for short-term hopes and dreams: a sunny morning, a beach vacation circled in red on my calendar, the thump-thump of chemistry with a man.

  As you read this, I’m probably having a good day. That’s not to say some aren’t frustrating, but on most given days, I feel lucky. I’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff because when I look around, my “stuff” is pretty damn small. I try to remember that daily, even on mornings when I’ve got the gum wad ready for Kathie Lee’s hair.

  • • •

  Here’s another little gem I’ve unearthed in recent years. You can’t resolve everything in your life. Stop with the four-hour phone calls and lunches, burning through hours dissecting a stubborn issue. I think it’s okay to tuck some things away and live your life. Stop wishing for a resolution! Life’s not perfect. Some loose ends may never get trimmed up and tidied. I believe that and boy, it’s freeing.

  I’ve learned that another waste of time is waffling over decisions. Flip-flop tick-tock. What a time suck! I try not to look back after I make a big decision. I make my choice and then I move forward. If I can’t sleep, I’ll revisit it, but otherwise I sleep like a baby—who’s made an adult decision.

  Am I on the right path in my life? I think so. I really do. For the past few years, the dominoes have not only lined up, they’ve knocked each other down in that beautiful “effect” that opens door after door. Turns out, when you’re on the right path, opportunities begin to unfold along the way. My rule now is that if I truly believe in something, I should go for it with gusto. I’ve discovered the power of not only positive thinking, but positive doing. Do it and watch those dominoes fall—plink-plink-plink-plink.

  I’ve always had a solid foundation for a good life—my family and close friends I can count on one hand. My focus now is creating quality blueprints to build my next forty years. I’m excited, hopeful, open, and ready for all the challenges that come with a work in progress. You can’t scare me, but you can definitely make me laugh. I’m going to stockpile as much laughter and joy as I can for the rest of my life.

  Well, I’m down to the last blueberry. Whatever I’ve forgotten has simply missed its shot at greatness. What I won’t forget is sharing my journey with you. Thank you for that. I leave you with the same advice I wish someone had given me years ago: start writing things down.

  WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

  Hmm. Where are they now? Where are some of the people (and things) who shaped my life and filled the pages of this book? I thought it would be fun to follow up on a few with fresh news and photos. The Internet sure makes it easy to track people down. Right, Jon Zachman?

  I list them in order of how you met each other in HODA.

  Jon Zachman (basement makeout boy), page 16: My junior high makeout buddy was “history” when he heard my parents come home from work early! How perfect, then, that Jon grew up to become the curator of collections at the Greensboro Historical Museum in North Carolina.

  Peggy Fox (friend who left class to sit by duck pond), page 24: My loyal friend Peggy graduated from Virginia Tech and began her career as a television journalist. She now works at WUSA-TV in Washington, D.C., as a news reporter. Peggy has a son and daughter and loves being a mom. She and I see each other once a year to catch up on the news biz, and the news of our lives.

  Hannah (my three-year-old niece), page 28: Hannah is still as adorable as ever! She loves to be read to and Dora the Explorer is her girl. She’s crazy for broccoli and my mom’s meatballs, and, of course, her Aunt Hodie.

  Laura Castorino (my hair angel), page 44: Laura is right where she should be—at the ready with her magic round brush. She recently got her own new hairstyle, but her husband’s not a fan. He claims that Laura looks like Keith Partridge and belts out “I Think I Love You.” I think he’s in big trouble.

  Stan Sandroni (first news director), page 53: Stan doesn’t age! He is now an account executive for a telecommunications company in Oxford, Mississippi. Still a sports fanatic, Stan’s also the sideline reporter for the Ole Miss Rebel Football Network.

  Aung San Suu Kyi (formerly held under house arrest in Burma), page 76: On November 13, 2010, Suu Kyi was released from seven years of house arrest. The sixty-five-year-old once again leads the National League for Democracy Party and continues her mission to bring multiparty democracy, human rights, and freedom of speech to Burma.

  Ms. Groves (first-time teacher), page 100: After two years of teaching at Atlanta’s Jean Childs Young Middle School, Monica left to go back to school herself. She completed her master’s degree in teaching and curriculum through Harvard’s Teacher Education Program. Monica then returned to Jean Childs Young to teach eighth-grade English, where she currently works. In 2011, Mo
nica will become dean at KIPP Vision Academy, also in Atlanta.

  Moss Man (twirled me at Mardi Gras), page 115: My surprise dance partner at Mardi Gras 1992 was the huggable, tuggable Moss Man. Sadly he passed away in 2004, but leaves behind a legacy of thrilling Mardi Gras crowds for nearly two decades. New Orleanians still ask me what I thought when he swept me off my feet that morning. Moss Man is not forgotten.

  My iPod, page 156: Where is it now? I think someone “borrowed” one of my iPods from the gym! I’m down to one, but not for long. I’m going to buy a backup and a backup to the backup, too.

  Man on the Plane (“Don’t hog your journey”), page 183 My man on the plane is doing well, but, ironically, had a cancer scare. In 2009, Ken Duane was diagnosed with prostate cancer and successfully underwent treatment. I was so grateful when he called to share his journey with me.

  Eduardo Verástegui (star of Bella), page 216: We’re still not married! Eduardo’s busy pursuing movies and music. He also travels the world promoting life and family. Eduardo’s heart is even more beautiful than his being, which makes me love him even more.

  My special wooden box (holds letter that lists the three most important traits in my man), page 256: It’s in my guest bedroom on a bookshelf. Writing this down will help me find that little box one day when I need it. As you now know, there’s a chance it will end up accidentally buried by books, an oversized tote bag, a plaque, or other random crap.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I have a lousy track record when it comes to writing thank-you notes, but not this time. There are too many people who added huge value to this book and I need to say thanks. (I’m also afraid of some of these people.)