Q AND A

A Conversation with

Maria Dahvana Headley

Author of

THE YEAR OF YES

Q: You decided to go out with anyone who asked you for an entire year. Why?!

A: Basically, it was because I was sick of my own taste, which had brought me such winners as Donatello, a film student who did things like point out my zits in extreme close-up. I was obsessed with finding a certain kind of guy, so I was ignoring everyone else. Random people asked me out all the time, but I was judgmental: they worked in a deli, so I assumed they hadn’t read enough books; they were taxi drivers, so I assumed we had nothing in common; they were short, so I assumed I could never be attracted to them…even though I, too, am short.

My own logic was not serving me well, and most of the dates I went on with people who seemed to be great candidates were totally unsatisfying. I had been looking for perfect, without bothering to understand that a) perfect didn’t exist, and b) perfect wasn’t the point. The final straw was the morning that a guy called and told me that he was listening to NPR, and asked if I wanted to come over and “make out.” I had that moment where suddenly, your whole life flashes before your eyes and you know that if someone is making you that kind of offer, you’ve made a wrong turn somewhere. And so, I decided to take my taste out of the equation, put all my preconceptions aside, and leave my love life up to fate. I figured that fate couldn’t mess my love life up any more than I myself could, and that it might just do a better job.

Q: Would you recommend that every woman embark on a Year of Yes?

A: Absolutely–to whatever extent she can. There are fascinating people everywhere, in every town. If you don’t live in a city where you meet people on the street, you can sign up for an activity that forces you to interact more with strangers. Make an effort to talk to new people, and not just in a dating sense, either. So many people have stories that can enrich your life, and all you need to do is spend a little bit of time with them.

I think the most important thing that happened to me during my yes year was that, through interactions with a lot of different kinds of people, I was able to recognize what I had when I did meet the right man. Before the yes year, I don’t think I would have understood how wonderful he really was. I would have said no to him just based on the situation of his life (he had kids and an ex-wife, and those weren’t things I was looking for, obviously, at age 21). Instead, after a year of saying yes to a wild range of people, I had learned enough to know that he was extraordinary, and absolutely worth it, even if it was hard. Even the experiences that weren’t positive helped shape me into the person I am now. Maybe they helped increase my compassion.

I think every woman can smile more, make eye contact more, start more conversations. You can start with one stranger a week. Pretend you live in a tiny town full of people who each have something to teach you. Now get to know them.

Q: Can you offer men any advice that will increase their chances of landing second dates?

A: Don’t withhold. Not your energy, not your enthusiasm, and not your feelings. My feeling is, if you like someone, there is no downside to making it obvious. A guy friend of mine just told me a story about this girl that he had an amazing time with on two dates. As they were planning date three, she teasingly asked him what he would do if she wanted to see him earlier than they had planned. His single-guy radar started screaming that she was clingy, and he told her that he was very busy and didn’t have any other time for her. Mistake. Now he’s remembering those great dates, and wanting to have more, and she’s seen him for what he was: someone who was scared and tried to reject her because of it. She’s become “too busy” to see him, and he’s become the clingy one.

Tell a woman straight out if she says something that resonates for you. Compliment something specific about how she looks, or even better, how she is as a person. Maybe you’ll get rejected, but at least you won’t get rejected because she thinks you’re not interested. When I got married, I got some calls from old boyfriends, who told me that they had made mistakes way back when, and that they should have told me how much they liked me, instead of acting like they didn’t. Um, yeah?

Q: You write that before the Year of Yes, you would never have considered dating the man who became your husband. Without giving away the ending, what was it about him (or about you?) that would have made the pairing inconceivable?

A: It was much more about the situation than about the actual person, in this case. When I met the man who is now my husband, he had a lot of baggage, in the form of 2 children, and a pending divorce. Not what your typical 21-year-old is looking for, and I certainly wasn’t…I mean, imagine explaining it to your mom: “My boyfriend can’t come to dinner, because he’s at an arbitration for his divorce.” It was just not what I was in the market for. I thought I wanted someone just like him, personality-wise, without all the difficulty that his life situation promised. Of course, part of what makes him the person he is, is that he’s gone through a lot.

When I signed on, I knew that it would be hard, and it was. Because of The Year of Yes, I was much more able to recognize the fact that circumstances didn’t define him, and that his character did. The first two years of our relationship had this massive difficulty inherent in them – I suddenly had an ex-wife in my life! Not to mention the fact that I was so not ready to have two children around all the time– they were five and eight when I met them, and I was 21! I just wanted love, not a whole new family…and I’m sure they felt the same way. It forced me to really look at myself and get over some of my selfishness about what I thought my husband’s and my relationship would be about. It was never just about the two of us. It was, however, absolutely worth it. From the outside, that required a lot of faith, and definitely a little bit of daredevil tendency. But I think this book establishes that, for whatever harebrained reason, I don’t often make the self-preserving choice. Now we’re married, and I have two stepkids…and we have this totally weird, totally happy family.