"TODAY I WILL MEET MY SOULMATE!" has been my mantra ever since.

    Every morning, as soon as I wake up, I tell myself this. I have been searching and waiting for my soulmate for 20 years now. I will be the president if there is a fan club for those who believe soulmates exist.

    But why do I believe in soulmates?

    My incurable romantic mother instilled this in me very young: I would only have a happy and lasting marriage if I got to marry my soulmate. So I promised myself I would never get married until I found him. And I will be single for life unless my soulmate comes!

    "I have separated from your dad. I can't take his drinking and physical abuse anymore." My mom dropped the bomb between sobs and smiles.   

    I tried to tie her long, tangled hair with my small pinkish hands. So it was after their loud and physical fight of the day. It has been like this since I can remember.

At what age did I remember? I guess since I was three.

I used to see my dad more days drunk than sober. He lost his job after having a stroke. My mom always says that my father became the worst version of himself after. He was never sober. He was never a father to me nor a husband to my mom.

Remember this: you should only marry your soulmate so you won't end up like me! Never rush into marrying the first guy you'll meet. Never say yes to the first guy you will go on a date with. Instead, meet and date as many guys as you can!

Those words are like my mom's version of the pledge of allegiance, specifically addressed to me every morning since I was eight.

Now, can anyone tell me why I shouldn't remember?

Getting into a relationship is like standing in front of a long buffet table where you can see all the food options available for your tasting. The same is true when you go on blind dates. Only after a series of blind dates can you decide which one is the one. My mom told me multiple times that the one is the only one, and only one person can be my soulmate.

At the young age of ten, I concocted a plan. When I turn 18, I will start the hunt for my only one. Just like an array of food, so has been my dating life. If there's a recipe book for dishes, I also have my book of the many blind dates I have had since I turned 18. I call it my BD# Book, short for Blind Date Number Book.

I opted for blind dating to avoid feeling biased toward anyone I would meet. Also, it's making every meeting a fresh start. From 18 to my current age of 28, I have mastered the different styles of blind dating. If a leader or boss is in dating, like in a Minecraft game, I'll be an Ender Dragon.

My first blind date, my high school best friend set up, was the cutest. The guy was her cousin from the city who came to spend the summer on the cape. I thought that blind dating meant not showing one's face to the other. So, consulting no one, I came to our small-town coffee shop wearing my red dragon masquerade mask. As soon as I sat on the chair across from him, I knew he wasn't the one.

At first, his brows raised with his mouth open. But, once he realized I was the blind date, he burst into unstoppable laughter. When his face turned red after looking around and seeing some customers laughing with him, embarrassment was written all over his face. Though I find him cute, he was already gone before I could say hello and do a face reveal. It took my best friend one week to nag me. Her cousin thought I did it intentionally to embarrass and make him dislike me.

BD #1. It started my long list of blind dates.

The entries in my BD # book went on and on. Blind dating became my second job, with no pay. Whenever I know someone looking for a blind date, I'm the first choice: the woman for the job. So BD #1 became BD #2, 3, 4, 5... BD #10... BD #15... BD #20... BD #40... BD #60... BD #80. There was even a night that I joined speed dating. That night, my list of BD #80 became BD #95. But still- NO SUCCESS.

In time, I came up with my blind dating script. Whenever I need to leave a blind date, I have a friend or a relative assigned to call me ten minutes after my blind date has started. The call is to either check on me or act out the emergency call script with me. With countless blind dates, I became engrossed with the script as if I was acting it out for a Hollywood movie. My co-actors even told me I could surely bag the Best Actress award if there were one.

It always starts with a ring from a contact named "MOM." I will then show my award-winning facial reaction as I answer the call.

"Hello, Mom! What? Stay calm! What happened? Who's with you right now? Okay. Don't worry; I'll be there soon!"

As soon as the call ends, my eyes will glisten. My killer dialogue will emerge when I look my date in the eye. "I am so sorry. I need to leave now because I have a family emergency."

Based on experience, my tearful act has always been the best seller. Most of my dates never gave me any suspicious reaction, with tears playing. And I have a rule I imposed on myself. If I find my date warm-hearted, I will not make him suffer twice. Considering my BD's pleasant personality, I will only ask for house water while waiting for the MOM call.

But I can't deny some BDs could get on my nerves.

BD #100 was a perfect example. He never stopped comparing. He repeatedly reiterated how different I look in person versus my picture. Before leaving for my family emergency, I ordered the most expensive steak to go.

Though the success rate then was zero, I've had a few unforgettable ones.

I thought BD #105 was the one. He has the qualities I'm looking for in a man. He was thoughtful, caring, and charming. It was the first time I ignored the MOM call. But right before the chocolate sundae was served, his girlfriend showed up, and they left together. Though I didn't get into a catfight, I ended up paying the bill since I was the one who stayed for dessert.

BD #115 was the one that got away—the only one with whom I was supposed to have a second date. Everything was perfect; our chemistry was undeniable. We hit it off the moment our eyes met. We laughed so hard at each other's jokes. Time seemed to have stopped. We didn't know that the restaurant where we had dinner was closing. We enjoyed each other's company so much that we continued our conversation on our house porch until three in the morning. It was the first time I agreed to my blind date to bring me home and meet my mom. It was the first 2nd date I accepted.

But BD #115 became my first heartbreak.

    I accompanied my mom to her pre-surgery lab tests a day before our agreed second date. In the same hospital, I saw BD #115. He smiled brightly while holding a pregnant woman's back as they exited an OB/Gynecologist clinic. Instead of confronting him, I hid. I concluded from what I witnessed that BD #115 would never be the one.

    I did not show up on our second date. I ignored BD #115's calls and ended up changing my number. As luck would have it, he went to our house the same day the hospital admitted my mom for her eye surgery. So, I took a month's leave from work and accompanied my mom from surgery to recovery.

    After a week's stay in the hospital, I went home to pick up some personal stuff for my mom. When I checked the mail, I saw the letter for BD #115.

    My heart stopped. In the letter, he said he was clueless about why I didn't show up and ignored all his calls and messages. If I read the letter two days after our second date, he stated he had already left for Canada because he had accepted a great job offer. He shared a lot about his family. All the other things he wrote didn't matter. Finally, my welling eyes got stuck in the part where he said smilingly that his younger sister had just given birth to his first nephew.

    "I know it may sound absurd, but the moment my eyes met yours, I felt it in my heart. And I was hoping to ask on our second date if you feel the same way about me and take the risk and go to Canada with me."

    My well of tears, combined with the intense heaving of my chest and shaking body, turned me into a sobbing mess. The succeeding words cut my already broken heart into a gazillion pieces.

    "I was at the dead end. I don't have any way of finding you except for your address and phone number. Even your schoolmate who introduced us couldn't get hold of you. After days of trying, I concluded I didn't pass your expectations of me, and it's no use to me pursuing. I wish you well. And I'll surely miss you."

    I sat in front of our porch with my back on our front door. I cried a bucket of tears like a crazy lunatic. That night, I stayed in and cried myself to sleep.

The following day, I picked up my mom from the hospital; she asked why I had swollen eyes. I gave a terrible excuse for falling asleep after watching a sad K-Drama. From the hospital, we drove to my grandmother's house in the cape, where we stayed for the remaining three weeks. Every night, I cried my heart out in silence.

On our last night in the cape, I couldn't bear it anymore and cried my heart out to my mom. That night, my mom took my dating life into her own hands. But, like the 8-year-old me, I just nodded and agreed to everything my mom said.

The 28-year-old me DELEGATED MY MOM AS MY OFFICIAL CUPID.

My mom didn't waste any time. When we returned to the city, I met with BD #116, #117, and #118. I met all three of them at different spots in the church compound.

BD #116 was a new seminarian; as expected, he only had his eyes on God.

    BD #117 was the lead singer in the church choir. When he asked my mom if she had a daughter, my mom thought he was asking for someone to date. My mom misunderstood. BD #117 told me he was looking for women who could join the choir.

    And the BIG NO of all three was BD #118. My mom didn't know he was the church's newly assigned young and hot parish priest.

    After that day's roller coaster, I told my mom that maybe I should take a break from blind dating. Anyway, 30 is the new 20, and I'm just 28. "I'm still young," I told her, but she refused to give up.

    "You're just looking in the wrong places! People should never give up on finding their soulmates."

    I couldn't look her in the eye. How could I tell her I stopped saying and believing my mantra three weeks ago? So, instead, I kept my thoughts to myself. Why did I agree to my mom setting up blind dates for me? How can she find mine when, in her own words, she didn't find her own? Is finding my soulmate her life's goal now?

    As months passed, Mom got more determined. Finally, when she returned to the hospital for her regular follow-up, she promised to find BD #119. And she kept her promise.

    I got the chance to have lunch with BD #119- a resident surgeon. He said he was interested in me but must first ask his mom's permission. And there goes BD #119.

    My BD # book was filling up. I told Mom it only had one page left and could only accommodate two more BDs. I promised myself that once I filled up the last page, that was it, though Mom kept saying she knew best. I doubted that maybe asking my mom to set up blind dates for me was like asking Cupid to shoot my soulmate while he was blindfolded.

    The more I got discouraged, the more motivated Mom was. Finally, she started attending bible studies, hoping to meet someone's son, nephew, or grandson.

    Kudos to her! There, she found BD #120.

    We met for coffee in the cafe across from the church. Though BD #120 was pleasant and charmingly familiar, there was no spark. But I told him he could pass for my younger brother. We had a delightful conversation; he admitted seeing me because my mom spoke well of me. We talked about life. Before we ended our conversation, he said he had decided to meet me. I felt guilty when he said he had found the one. I thought of words to say to turn him down. But it turned out he came to meet me on behalf of his brother. And he begged me to give his older brother a chance.

    It was a bright Sunday afternoon. My mom insisted I meet BD #121 in the garden inside the church compound. She asked me to stop by the church and pray for God's blessing. While walking toward the garden's entrance, Cupid's statue, holding his bow and arrow, welcomed me. It made me smile, thinking maybe my cupid was blind. Should I give up?

    I saw BD #121 from behind, sitting on a bench. As I made my last six steps toward him, my heart pounded. I heard my heart make a loud sound: THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. I stopped. When he turned toward me, I saw a familiar smile. My heart recognized him. My feet froze, and my eyes cried.

    BD #121 walked towards me and pulled me in his arms. Seeing him and feeling his body to mine made me realize my cupid is not blind.

BD #121 is my soulmate. He came back, my BD #115.

***