MacArthur Park picnics, real conversations

I pack a blanket and a book and go to MacArthur Park on Sunday afternoons, and I always end up people-watching more than reading, which is fine because humans are more interesting than fiction most of the time. I'm thirty-six, a marriage and family therapist, and yes, the irony of my job and my single status is not lost on me. I've been divorced four years and I've spent that time doing exactly what I tell my clients to do — healing, reflecting, not rushing. I'm ready now. I want a man who's done his own work, who can name his feelings without a spreadsheet, and who doesn't see emotional intelligence as optional. I'm perceptive, gentle, and I have a way of making people feel safe enough to say things they've never said out loud. I want someone who can hold that kind of space for me too. That's what I'm looking for.