As a matchmaker, I stay on top of my game by reading (and rereading) every English book on the Chinese zodiac and by attending as many relevant events as I can to stay in the know.
Today’s event is the one I look forward to most, and it’s just my luck that it falls on my very first day as Head Matchmaker of Lunar Love. Every fall, the annual Matched with Love Summit takes place in Los Angeles. The day-long conference captures the magic of new beginnings, optimism, and unspoken what ifs. If you’re a matchmaker, it’s the queen of all conferences. Thousands of matchmakers, behavioral scientists, CEOs, marketers, and investors from around the country attend to learn about the state of the industry, how to increase profits, and the science behind attraction. Basically, we gather to talk all things love and matchmaking.
This year, Matched with Love is being hosted on the outskirts of Chinatown, which Lunar Love has called home for the last fifty years. The speaker of this afternoon’s session, Dr. Annie Goodman, paces back and forth on layered carpets at the front of the event space. Rows of chairs facing her are lined up neatly in the outdoor veranda of an industrial warehouse that’s been painted all white. Flower garlands drip from the overhead beams, casting floral shadows on the concrete floor in the natural light. It’s all very romantic.
“Raise your hand if you believe that opposites attract,” Dr. Goodman instructs in a loud voice. “And be honest!” With silver hair, tortoiseshell round glasses, and her fingers steepled in front of her, Dr. Goodman looks like a glamorous therapist only seen in movies. She commands the room with her quiet confidence as she speaks methodically about the psychology of love.
Opposites attract? Not a chance.
I turn in my seat near the front, looking around at the number of arms that shoot up into the air. In a room of two hundred professionals, a little over half of them have their hands raised. I shake my head in disappointment.
“You in the back, can you share with us why you believe opposites attract?” Dr. Goodman gestures toward a man in a burgundy long-sleeve shirt sitting in the rear of the space.
I angle my head to try to see who’s speaking when the man stands to answer. “Differences in personalities can make for interesting relationships,” he says. “One might call it opposite, another might call it complementary. It’s not that I only think opposites attract. I just don’t like limiting who can be attracted to who.” The man addresses the room as he speaks, rotating to seemingly make eye contact with everyone in the room.
Dr. Goodman nods her head in slow, long dips, looking as though she’s forming her response. “And do you think complementary personality traits help the relationship long-term?”
The light makes it difficult to see his features from where I sit, but he appears to stand with confidence. “A recent study showed that over eighty-two percent of people found those who were their opposite attractive. I think that’s because differences create chemistry. The way I see it, there’s not a lot of excitement or room for growth if people are with others who are just like them,” he says, running a hand through his dark hair.
“Thank you. And what about you?” Dr. Goodman cradles her chin in her hand and looks in my direction. “I saw you shaking your head. You don’t think opposites can attract?”
I feel everyone’s eyes turn on me, and I hold my notebook against my chest and remain seated, facing the people in the first few rows. “I’ve personally experienced and witnessed what happens when two opposites come together,” I say, quietly at first.
Dr. Goodman makes a noise. “Go on.”
“It’s fun for a short period of time because the other person is exciting and shiny and new, but it’s lust versus love. If people are too opposite in values and interests, that’s how conflicting, contentious partnerships are formed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that people have to agree on every single thing, because that’s rare. But just because people have similar traits doesn’t mean they’re in boring relationships.”
“Mmhmm,” Dr. Goodman hums.
“My job is to find those similarities and flaws in clients and pair them with well-suited matches,” I continue. “This way, people can bypass all the wondering and initial skepticism. I’m there with clients through the new moon, I mean, the beginning of their relationships so I can better understand the dynamics of their interactions.”
“Sorry, but whoever’s speaking right now, you really don’t think two opposites can balance each other out?” the voice of the man who spoke before me calls out.
I turn to face him, but the man’s already seated, his face lost among the crowd. “Only if—and that’s a big if—both people are willing to keep that balance in check and are open to transformation. It won’t just happen. Change is hard and requires work. Certain flaws can be dealbreakers,” I respond.
“Your point being what? That opposite traits are flaws?” the man yells again.
“Complementary traits and opposite traits are not one and the same,” I say loudly so the man in the back can hear me. “If you’re looking for excitement in your life with someone who is wildly different from you because you can’t be with someone so similar to yourself, well, then, best of luck to you.”
Take that, Opposites Attract Guy.
“And if you’re scared to be with someone who’s too different, I respectfully wish you all the best,” the man says, his tone assertive but not unfriendly. My jaw drops as I face back toward the front.
“Thank you both for the dialogue. I appreciate the passion. You give us a lot to think about,” Dr. Goodman says as she repositions herself behind a podium. “Now, to go back to something else that was mentioned: love versus lust. Let’s explore that.” She resumes her presentation while I take notes.
After the session, I meet up with Alisha. While waiting for her, I watch as attendees shake hands, embrace in hugs, and tap their phones. I slide my fingers down my heart-patterned lanyard and admire the dangling glossy badge printed with my name and fancy new title.
I’ve played Cupid for over three hundred clients. It’s a beautiful thing when two people come together from various corners of the world and are matched based on their truly complementary personality traits, just as the moon and Earth complement one another. With as many people as there are out there, finding your person can be overwhelming, to say the least.
I love creating love and seeing relationships go from a spark to a raging bonfire. Sure, sometimes the fire goes out in relationships, but sometimes, even after a few missteps, the embers still glow hot, and the fire remains in a steady state of potential, needing just a single gust of air to reignite. It’s all part of the process of finding and falling in love.
Alisha startles me when she sweeps her arm around my shoulder.
“Happy first day! That should really say CLO!” she says in a singsongy tone. “Chief Love Officer. How do you feel?”
I laugh and nod my head toward a bouquet of overfilled giant heart balloons, the glistening red foil practically bursting at the seams. “Like that. I’m so excited I could burst.”
Alisha laughs. “How was your session? I learned about so many different attachment styles in relationships, I feel like I just got out of therapy.”
“I was put on the spot but I’m always eager to talk shop,” I say. “Ready for lunch? Randall says he’ll meet us there.”
“Can you get a couple of quick shots of me? This outfit’s a bit over-the-top,” she says, referencing her puffy red sleeves, “but it matches the color palette of my feed.”
With Alisha’s phone, I snap a few photos, crouching low to capture every angle. When she’s not busy matchmaking, Alisha runs her Instagram account where she features first-date outfits styled and modeled by her. With over thirty thousand followers, Alisha’s in tune with what’s happening in the social media world. Her expertise will be invaluable for our upcoming marketing efforts.
We stroll through the outdoor veranda to the stage kitchen where countless cookbook photoshoots have undoubtedly taken place. Situated next to the long community tables is a photobooth with the words Love at First Aura scrawled across the side.
The woman at the booth gives us a warm smile as we pass by. “Welcome. Would you be interested in trying Love at First Aura? First we read your aura, then we find you a match based on your aura color.”
Alisha looks fascinated by their concept. “I love how spiritual this is. Get in!” she says, nudging me.
“What! No!” I use both my arms to push off the booth. “Great concept, though!”
“Come on!” Alisha begs. “I’ll bet you’re a deep blue and violet. Don’t you want to know who you’ll match with?”
I laugh. “Good one. Aura compatibility isn’t quite my thing. Besides, it’s not about me. Love is in the air, Alisha. Can you feel it?” I raise my hands and spin around.
She raises her eyebrows in amusement. “For everyone but you, I suppose.”
I let her comment roll off my back. Many moons ago, I did love being in love. I used to fall in love easily. Too easily. Now I know better. I’m wiser. More careful.
Randall is already behind the counter picking out his lunch, which is standard conference to-go fare, a turkey and cheddar sandwich with a bag of chips and an apple. I cherish every single bite because, even though the bread’s stale and the apple’s bruised, I’m surrounded by people who are trying to bring more love into the world. Today might as well be a holiday in my calendar.
“These sandwiches are cut into hearts!” Randall says, looking amused. His expression morphs into confusion. “What do they do with the crusts, though? Seems wasteful.”
We eat and wander, stumbling upon the designated booth section for online dating and digital apps, or in other words, Dating Purgatory. With new apps popping up all the time, I feel at ease knowing that Lunar Love focuses on in-person matchmaking where clients aren’t caught straddling the fine line of ghosting or playing the waiting game. Because we’re hands-on with our clients, no one is ever left wondering about the status of their love lives. Humans deserve more than being relegated to names like users and being worthy only if they contribute to data and bottom lines.
Alisha, Randall, and I wind through people waiting for free swag from online dating apps both big and small. I hear founders and CEOs pitching their products to the media, interested customers, and potential job candidates. In the midst of the chaos, I hear the words Chinese zodiac spoken by a person at one of the booths. I stop in my tracks as Alisha bumps into me from behind. A chip flies out of my hand and under the heel of a man’s sneaker.
“Oof! Are you okay?” she asks. “What’s up?”
“Did you hear that? Someone just said Chinese zodiac.”
“Maybe you were thinking out loud again, and you heard yourself say it,” Randall says as he looks around the crowded room. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“There it was again!” I say, leading them closer to the row of booths. As I push my way through the crowd, I can see just enough of the company’s sign over people’s heads.
My eyes scan over the words ZodiaCupid: Compatibility is in the personality.
Alisha gasps when she reads the sign. “Does that sound like what I think it sounds like?”
“It can’t be,” I say, trying to get a better look at the man speaking from the booth. He wears the confidence of a CEO and a burgundy long-sleeve shirt. It’s the Opposites Attract Guy.
I step closer to listen and get a better look at his face. A feeling of familiarity washes over me when I realize I’ve met this man before.
“No…way,” I say slowly. The air collapses out of me as though I’m a shiny heart balloon that’s just been popped.
“We’re excited about our new app that matches users based on their Chinese zodiac animal signs,” Opposites Attract Guy announces.
My heart plummets from my chest to the bottom of my stomach. Opposites Attract Guy is none other than Bakery Guy.
“Pinch me,” I squeak. “Ow! I didn’t mean both of you!”
“Any time,” Alisha and Randall say, both of them transfixed on the man.
“I can’t believe this.” I grab Alisha and Randall by their forearms. “That’s him. That’s Bakery Guy.”
“Which one?” Alisha asks eagerly, scanning the room.
“Him! The one in the booth. The guy talking!” I stare at the man in disbelief. “He was so…nice. So charming.”
“He still seems nice and charming, no?” Randall asks.
“Not anymore! Do you think he was spying on me?” I say, my mind racing.
Alisha snorts. “Liv, you taking over Lunar Love hasn’t been announced yet to the public. How could he have known? Besides, if he asked for your number at the bakery, then I’d worry. But he didn’t, so it doesn’t sound like he knows who you are.”
Her words hit harder than they should. “Uh-huh.” I can’t take my eyes off Bakery Guy. “It’s not like I would’ve given him my number anyways,” I justify. Why didn’t he ask for my number? Any onlooker would’ve thought there was a connection there. But with his magnetic personality, he probably connects with everyone like that.
Bakery Guy speaks animatedly, waving his hands around when he shares vague data points and ideas. He’s careful not to give away too many details, sticking with loose explanations of what the app is and how it works.
“To us, compatibility has a broader definition. We’re doing things a bit differently, as you’ll see,” he announces to the crowd.
I clench my jaw. “Different? Different how?”
“Maybe they’ve made up twelve different animals completely,” Randall offers. “I always thought Dolphins and Pandas were unfairly left out.”
“Are they seriously calling themselves ZodiaCupid?” I huff. “He basically stole the idea of our business and digitalized it. He can’t do this to Pó Po’s legacy! And those poor people in Digital Purgatory!”
I cross my arms and watch as Team ZodiaCupid high-five each other and toss branded T-shirts and zip hoodies into the enthused crowd. Bakery Guy’s features don’t look so appealing anymore. Instead, he just looks smug and deceitful.
“Their marketing budget must be insane,” Alisha says, nearly knocking a woman over in a desperate attempt to catch a hoodie in midair. “Ooh, these feel like eco-fleece!”
“Wow, that’s soft,” I say, running my hand along the arm of the hoodie.
“They’re just wannabes,” Randall says.
“Right. Lunar Love is the original. You want quality love, you go to quality matchmakers. Why let an algorithm have so much control when you can have a real, experienced person that you can trust?” I say confidently before realizing I’m still stroking the eco-fleece.
Alisha nods. “That’s the damn truth.”
Bakery Guy continues his presentation, matching the energy of the crowd now decked out in ZodiaCupid swag. “We’re in the beta testing phase,” he says proudly. “For everyone who’s at our booth right now, we’re giving you immediate beta access. Just use the code CHINESEZODIAC. Being mixed race, I hope to share my Chinese culture with you all and work toward bridging communities with ZodiaCupid. It’s my hope that you’ll join us on this journey.”
So Bakery Guy is mixed race like me.
Alisha, Randall, and I immediately huddle in the corner and download ZodiaCupid onto our phones using the beta code. I keep one ear on the founder, who’s fielding questions from the group.
“Thanks, everyone, for your attention,” he says, offering the crowd a giant, suck-up grin. “Again, I’m Bennett O’Brien, and we’re ZodiaCupid!”
Sounds and chatter around me fall away. Bennett O’Brien. Finally, Bakery Guy has a name. Bennett. My lips touch for a brief moment to form the B of his name. I silently repeat the words to myself. I hate the way his name feels on my tongue.
“Let’s see what all the hype is about,” I say, focusing on the task at hand. I type in the code. My screen glows with ZodiaCupid’s logo, a single connected line of a cursive Z, its last loop turning into an arrow and piercing through a heart. I add my first name and last initial and a fake birthday within my Horse year so my animal sign can populate into the system. I don’t have to worry about finding a decent photo of myself since the app apparently doesn’t let people upload any.
“I hate to say it, but this actually looks good,” Randall says as he taps through the app. “It’s unbelievable how quickly these matches happen. What takes us days takes them seconds.”
I groan. “That’s exactly the problem. Instant isn’t better.”
Around us, more women have gathered to catch a glimpse of the handsome man peddling false hope.
“I read that he’s LA’s most eligible bachelor. Apparently he uses his own app,” one woman says.
“In that case, maybe we should try matching with him,” another woman responds with a giggle. “He just made some list of, like, top ten up-and-coming Asian American entrepreneurs. Pretty impressive.”
I roll my eyes and then continue filling in my empty profile. As soon as I hit Save, matches start trickling in. That was fast. I skim through the animals I’m paired with, expecting compatible Dogs and Tigers to my Year of the Horse. Instead, a variety of animal signs and noises appear. They don’t even know my birth hour, yet they’re providing me with this wide range of animals.
“I think a Snake just hissed at me,” Alisha says, stunned.
This is all wrong. I return to the match page and continue scrolling to see what other signs I’ve been paired with. While my compatible animal signs appear, there are also Monkeys, Pigs, Snakes, and Oxen.
“I never thought I’d know what sound Dragons make, yet here we are,” I mumble. A few more seconds later, a Rooster crows at me.
“Maybe they’re bots. Or it’s the company’s back system flattering users and making them feel like the app works. Or,” Randall says conspiratorially, “it’s a ploy to steal users’ data.”
“It’s impersonal and inaccurate. People won’t fully understand who they’re being matched with and why, let alone what their signs mean. Without a matchmaker, people lose the human element of falling in love,” I say, trying to steady my shallow breathing.
Alisha nods. “People are more complex than what these animal traits imply,” she says, her lips forming a tight line. “And there’s so much variety within each animal sign.”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century,” I say with a sigh. “I guess all animal signs will be matched in one way or another instead of following tradition.” This thought pains me. “We can’t let them take advantage of people like this! Maybe they’ll never make it through beta because of terrible reviews. It’ll be so bad that people will realize that there’s a lot more to zodiac matchmaking than simply pairing animals together.”
I watch as the crowd continues growing around the ZodiaCupid booth. Bennett shakes hands with a few audience members, his face beaming with pride. From my corner, I can hardly see his dimples, but I remember them so vividly that he might as well be standing right in front of me.
“Their app will crash and die a fabulous death before ever making it to launch,” Alisha snickers.
I narrow my eyes at Bennett from across the room. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”