My boyfriend jokes that the ocean is his other woman; his mistress, first love, and soul mate. In fact, the first time our relationship became serious was when he told me that he liked me more than the ocean. Not loved me. Just liked me. And it meant the world to me.
Surfers seem to have some hot, muscly, laid-back lure about them that brings unsuspecting females into an enduringly unexpected trap. It maybe their perfect tans, ridiculous six packs or effortless sexiness that comes with riding giant waves and getting pummeled and almost drowned on a daily basis. But ladies, beware; dating a surfer (or bodyboarder, or bodysurfer, or avid skimboarder) is an entirely different ball game.
In most relationships, you’re competing with your man’s family, friends, video games, hobbies, and obligations for his precious time and attention. If he gets down in the water, you’re also competing with the ultimate other woman: Mother Nature.
Trust me: Mother Nature is a bitch. You can’t compete with her. She can and will do things that you will never, ever be able to provide for your man. She’s beautiful, mysterious, and limitless; and she will always play a pivotal (if not primary) role in his life, whether you do or not.
If you’re dating a surfer, you have to be down to sit on your ass for an unknown amount of time while he has his way with her (or rather, she with him). When my man’s not with me or at work, he’s with her. If he doesn’t answer his phone for anywhere between one and six hours, I know exactly where he is. Since we live in Hawaii where the waves are booming close to year-round, I’m prepared to spend any matter of holidays – Christmas, Valentine’s Day, his birthday, even my birthday – at the beach.
Instead of fighting a losing battle, I decided to join the love affair. And even though the crazy bitch has given me black eyes, bruised ribs, cracked shins, and any number of bumps and bruises, I fell in love with her too. She’s even damn near drowned me countless times, but I consider it a reminder of who’s in charge. If she’s kind enough to let me in her territory, I respect her rules and take whatever beatings she’s decided to dish out.
Because of her, though, my relationship has changed. Now I blush when he tells me my eyes are more beautiful than a perfect barrel with offshore winds. Instead of jewelry, he bought me a bodyboard for my birthday. Instead of flowers, he bought me a new pair of fins for Valentine’s day. Instead of going on dates and seeing movies we spend hours at the beach experiencing a beautiful, incredible thing together. Because we share this passion and connection, something that would be a glaring issue in our relationship has made us monumentally stronger. And there’s nothing quite like riding into a perfect, crisp blue barrel; except maybe sharing it with the person you love.