another online departure

I’ve taken a break from the online thing again…I just stopped checking messages and became bored with it. Further, I wasn’t the new girl any longer. The quality of attention had gone downhill.

Still, out of curiosity, I took a last glance at my top matches before departing, digging a little deeper where I found a fellow interesting. One of those who at first appeared to be a strong match answered some questions about sex this way:

Have you ever had sex with someone within an hour of meeting them?

His answer: Yes.

Would you ever consider sleeping with someone on a first date?

His answer: Yes.

Would you still be able to respect someone after sleeping with him or her on the first date?

His answer: No.

Do you prefer that you or your partner be more dominant?

His answer: Partner.

I’ve seen red flags before — and sometimes I’ve met men whose questionable or contradictory answers have had perfectly reasonable explanations. Many times, the questions have enough answers so that one or more seems to fit and the answer really depends on one’s mood or perception of the question at the moment.

Still, I looked at this series of questions — and there may have been more of them interspersed that didn’t stand out to me in the same way these three did — and I thought, “Okay. I’m out.” And then I removed my account.

How would you interpret these questions all answered by a single person? Does anyone else read hypocrite written between the lines?

dance with me, mr. adorkable

Here is an attempted re-creation of an instant message / chat session with the fellow who kissed me two weeks ago and then…nothing. Okay, the odd flirty text or so. And this, with the man I shall now refer to as mr. adorkable:

…

Him: im such a dork!

Me: u r adorkable…which is hardly as embarrassing as me practically throwing myself at you off and on for the better part of a year (with no discernible results, I might add)…i can only hope you’ve found it more flattering than repugnant

Him: on and off?

Me: mostly on

Him: top?

Me: you’re the one with the c in your title…you’re in charge

Him: my bold advances are always followed by retreat. embarrassing!

Me: indeed

…

This exchange took place as I searched a variety of travel applications on my mobile for nearby hotel rooms, fantasizing that we might be able to leave our respective offices early and meet in between for a couple of hours. Alas, it was not to happen.

And so I spent my evening on a date with another less interesting (though nice enough) chap and, while the band played, imagined mr. adorkable’s hand was pressing in the small of my back, our bodies close and that this very public act of dancing, while socially acceptable and appearing to be innocent, was charged with enough desire for it to be considered foreplay.

You see, one of the truly dorky things I happen to know about mr. adorkable is that he has some experience with ballroom dancing…and, while I’ve no formal training, I’m fairly adept at following a strong leader on the dance floor. After brains and status, perhaps the sexiest thing a man can be is confident enough to have (and confess) such an obscure interest — particularly one that suggests that he knows how to move his hips, that he can lead and presumably has a sense of rhythm.

Imagine the fantasy: We opt for drinks at his place one evening. He turns on the stereo and mixes us each a drink. Something romantic and jazzy comes on…something like “Sugar in My Bowl” by Nina Simone. I suggest he ask me to dance. He takes my hand and pulls me close. The energy between us is intoxicating. We move together, very slowly. I can feel his breath hot on my skin. He teases my lips with his, then moves onto my neck and down to my collarbone. Slowly, with each song, he removes one piece of my clothing. I do the same, first loosening his tie, then unbuttoning his shirt, eventually unbuckling his belt… We are still swaying together in our undergarments as the sky grows dark, parts of our bodies taut with anticipation until, finally, he leads me to the bed…

That, my friends, should explain the dire situation in which I find myself today: mind in a fog of fantasy, confused about what thoughts or intentions he might have, and with batteries run out. Help.

a declaration to the universe

Sometimes I need to remind myself why I’m putting it all out there — and this is one of those times:

I believe that truly loving and truly being loved is the greatest freedom we humans can achieve. (Contrast this with the attitudes portrayed by singles in the media, that marriage “ties us down” or we “give up our freedom..”) To come home to a place where someone is committed to loving, committed to partnership and where one is emotionally safe to express oneself fully seems healthier and even more natural to me than living singly, even if it is a lot of work. (Dr. Phil calls this “a soft place to land.”) The specific challenge is finding someone matched both in compatibility and desire to create that sort of relationship. “Met and matched,” as a relationship counselor might say.

Further, I believe that creating this safe, supporting home environment is what’s best for our children. So, even as I am trying to be the best parent I can be, it strikes me that the greatest single positive change I could make in parenting my children is to remarry a loving man, create a family and demonstrate an emotionally healthy, committed relationship.

I continue to work toward readiness for that kind of love and partnership — not because I believe I need to be perfect to find it — or even better than I am now, for that matter, but because I think trying to be our best, most loving, most devoted selves is what separates us from the beasts. Without this sort of seeking, what is the point or purpose of our lives?

So, even as I confess to being completely smitten with a fellow who planted his lips on mine a week hence, I continue to keep my focus on what’s important: finding the man who demonstrates that I am, and a relationship with me is, a priority. To be honest, I don’t automatically suspect this fellow will do that, but I remain hopeful and open to the possibility.

shocking new updates from the land of liking boys

My stomach is all aflutter after a rather scandalous happening a few days ago: The gentleman about whom I wrote in my last post, object of many a fantasy, planted his lips on mine and kissed me, therein setting off a series of delicious, physiological responses including the aforementioned sensation in my stomach, weak knees, racing heart and, most dangerous of all, careening thoughts. A brief moment of shock and wonder was followed quickly by euphoric reverie and then, only hours later, confusion.

Now, days later, my body seems to cycle rapidly through feelings of elation, befuddlement and horror. I have identified two primary root causes of this array of emotion:

I have proven myself colossally bad at choosing appropriate mates and I am already convinced that this will end horrifically…at least for me. Unless it doesn’t! I mean unless he truly is as sweet as he seems. Simply put, I am already terrified for the end of something that has yet to even begin.
By flirting suggestively with this fellow months ago, I’m afraid I’ve likely given the impression that I seek a mere lover. While my desires have changed dramatically, I cannot be certain I’ve informed this fellow of my changed set of requirements. Put another way, I’ve no idea his intent: does he mean to submit himself for the role of lover or boyfriend? Or neither? (Only serious applicants need apply.)

Having positively obsessed about this situation for a full two days, I’ve decided that the only practical approach is to be blithe and nonchalant, as I am while dating men I’ve met online. This proven approach, which requires I simply enjoy myself with complete detachment to the outcome, seems to work much better when I don’t know whether I like a fellow. (Worked like a charm on the man who became my last serious boyfriend!)

You see, while dating men one has met online, it’s quite easy to be biased against the likelihood of anything ever working out. What are the chances? So one sits through a coffee, a drink or a meal, all senses on the alert for warning signs of misogyny, prejudice, misguided political leanings or other wrong-headed beliefs, cheapness, poor taste and all manner of other sins, always at the ready to employ a sensible “slow to hire; quick to fire” policy.

This fellow, however, is someone I’ve gotten to know rather slowly. We have drifted in and out of flirtatious encounters and might already be dating were the logistics not so nearly impossible. After a happy hour a couple of weeks ago, I made a startling discovery: I feel a strong impulse to be sweet in his presence. This is revelatory because it is not at all how I’m feeling during most dates (see paragraph above) and because, while I am often kind, charming, gracious, considerate, helpful and even loving, I very rarely feel sweet. Something about his quiet strength makes me feel those lovely feminine qualities of softness, sweetness and yes, maligned term though it may be, submission. Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot state this strongly enough: I feel I might be able to submit to him, a sensation so foreign to me I don’t know what to do with it! Surely you can understand why I’m in such a tizzy.

But onto other loose ends, as well:

My former boyfriend and I talked the other day: I find myself both yearning for the love we shared and also wanting to sock him in the face, all in the course of a single conversation. He is infuriatingly self-righteous and smug about certain things I can only hint at here.

The fellow (and I refuse to say “gentleman”) who vowed to spend yesterday with me doing yard work did not follow through on said plans. There is something charming and in earnest about him, and I’ve always envisioned he and I would find ourselves fast friends, so I was rather disappointed. Still, it’s probably for the best, given all that’s a-swirl in my mind. Unfortunately, he seems intent on wanting something to come of whatever time we spend together, rather than simply enjoying getting to know one another.

Finally, I went out Friday night on a third date (second to some, perhaps) with a fellow I met online. As usual, I was half dreading the encounter and, thus, ended the evening on a high note, having had a far better time than anticipated. He is taller and better looking than the kisser, his sun sign is more likely to be compatible with mine and, in all likelihood (if you believe what they say about a man’s hands and feet), better hung. Of course, while he was holding my hand, I was daydreaming of the fellow who’d kissed me the day before.

$@#%&!!

And so life goes on in the land of liking boys…

the bold new fantasy

Several months ago, the type of fantasies I entertained were those that usually included a strong and (physically) passionate man who couldn’t wait to ravage me…up against a wall, on a kitchen island, etc. These fantasies were fast, rough and entirely physical and can easily be described with “Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am!”

Now, my mind wanders instead to visions of…(insert dramatic pause)… Being spooned! Cuddling in bed watching Friday Night Lights reruns! Slow dancing! Preparing dinner together after work! Waking up together!

In other words, I find I’m very desirous of the mundane, intimate behaviors that couples share. I lust for a closeness that goes beyond sex, beyond simply liking someone. I long to be back in that yummy relationship place in which closeness is a given and anything can be expressed and received with complete assurance of emotional safety.

Funny thing is, one of the guys I’m fantasizing about these days is someone about whom I fantasized in a much racier fashion two seasons ago. And I’m dying to learn whether he’s as versatile as my imagination makes him out to be…

assessing the current situation

I mentioned that book about attachment awhile back, and I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’ve learned. Diving in:

Self-assessment: Avoidant at the macro level; anxious on the micro. Keep in mind that this is a comprehensive review of past relationships, and not completely reflective of where I am in this moment. Still, I can see that I have to be very careful about the messages I’m sending, because the minute some new guy is really into me, I have a tendency to turn around and run. If he’s glomming on so quickly, he must be desperate or needy or something (I guess I must be thinking).

Of course I’m completely attracted to avoidant men, because I find them exciting and duh! it doesn’t take a genius to connect that attachment avoidant types might take it upon themselves to start companies, travel a lot and have fascinating interests. They generally introduce me to new bands or music which, in retrospect, I can easily put into the category of “anthems of the attachment avoidant.” But I like music. I am a total sucker for this kind of shit.

So when I find a guy who interests me and show it, he wants to turn around and run. And then my anxious behaviors kick in which really scare him away.

Current state: All that said, I’ve matured and evened out a lot and I’m ready for genuine intimacy with the right partner. I don’t believe there’s only one possibility out there. I don’t expect someone to read my mind. I’m ready to work on it with a man who makes it worthwhile to work on it. I’m perfectly comfortable expressing to someone that I want and need to move slowly, that I want and need to develop a friendship first. It’s true that I have moments of wanting to turn around and run, and it’s also true that I’m a big enough girl to own my stuff and communicate through those times.

I seriously doubt that I will ever draw an attachment avoidant to me again, because I suspect he’ll immediately sense that my energy is not right for him. Either that, or I’ll be much more able to recognize quickly that he’s unwilling and unable to meet my emotional needs, so I’ll dismiss him much more quickly.

Meanwhile, I’m catching myself before I dismiss men for petty reasons and I’m opening myself to the possibility that someone who drives a car I don’t like or who lives in a suburb I don’t want to live in could still be a great guy. (Sure, he’ll have to buy a new car and move at some point — lol.)

Will I ever find the genuine intimacy I seek? I have to believe I will. It’s still going to take me a bit of work to open myself to a different set of possibilities about what will make me happy for the long-term, but I’m getting there.

ready for love?

Did you watch Ready for Love this evening? Of course I did, of course I was curious. (Furthermore, I hereby confess to watching (though not religiously) The Bachelor and The Bachelorette…)

I want to learn everything I can from these matchmakers!

So far I’ve got:

don’t tell a guy you have a list
don’t say “fart”
don’t advertise your insecurities or introduce doubt

All solid advice, I’d say. And I think I can safely add: wait until you’re really in a comfortable relationship before telling a guy you blog about dating.

My wish is that someone would go out on a limb and do one of these dating shows with middle-aged, average looking, average-bodied divorcees. Sure, everyone loves watching the young and beautiful people — and there’s no doubt they have just as tough a time as the rest of us when it comes to finding a mate — but viewers also respond to real people with real lives and real flaws. Just watch one of those weight loss or hoarder shows…if there weren’t an audience for these shows, they wouldn’t be on television.

Would I go on it? Heck no! I’m simply a much more private person than that…but even if it might be kind of stressful, I do like the thought of several guys vying for my attention.

If you tuned in, let me know what you think in the comments.

an endless stream of “real winners”

I was reminded again this evening of the fact that I’ve only ever loved one truly decent man…but that’s a story for another day. Before that was an endless stream of what my father would have ironically called “real winners.” I mean, I suppose it’s possible that one of my high school or college boyfriends might have amounted to something. It was too early to tell back then, when I was in a relationship with any of them. Given my track record, I doubt it.

Case in point, my father called earlier, giddy with news. I tried to explain to him that I’d just gotten home from work, was trying to get dinner and had to race off to a sporting event. He was insistent: I had to Google an ex boyfriend.

With phone to my ear, spatula in hand, jacket half on and half off, I learned that a man I dated more than two decades ago had been arrested for watching porn on his mobile phone while sitting in his car in a parking lot. Apparently, a nearby couple could see what he was watching, so he turned the phone their direction to show them. They promptly called the police, who charged him with lewd behavior, among other things.

Doubled in age, experience and wisdom since the days of spending time in his company, I’m still able to envision him doing exactly as charged: noticing others noticing him, assuming they were titillated or interested, thinking he was being cute by sharing his guilty pleasure with them. (Why do you think I dumped the guy?!) Ugh…ick. And think of his humiliated wife and children at home!

(Then again, what kind of police state is this where we can’t enjoy porn in the privacy of our own vehicles?! Cue laugh track.)

The thing is, I’m nearly as disgusted with my father, who was so certain I needed to be aware of this pathetic fact about a long-ago boyfriend. My father, it can be said (endearingly, of course) is, himself, a pig. In his defense, he’s been a loving, caring father and a wonderful grandfather. Also in his defense, he doesn’t know any better — he, too, thinks he’s being cute when he flirts and makes suggestive remarks to the young women where he works. What he doesn’t get is that these young women probably go hide in the restroom after he says something like, “that’s okay, if he doesn’t treat you right, I’ll take care of you,” — or maybe they go home and shower. He doesn’t understand that, if they smile and play along, they’re just trying to survive in a hostile environment. He doesn’t understand that his behavior, no matter how innocuous it seems, is harmful. In his defense, he got better briefly, when I first entered the working world and shared with him some of my own workplace challenges.

Still, once sentenced to live out his final earthly chapter in a nursing home, my father could easily become the dirty old man known for patting the asses of the female staff. My maternal grandparents probably once described him as a “real winner,” bless his heart.

It’s no wonder I’ve struggled with my choices in men over the years. But things may be looking up — the latest guy just asked me to accompany him to the opera. I know it’s no testament to character, but I’m going to take it as — at least — a sign of good taste. And by good, I mean better-than-porn-in-a-parked-car good.

is “curvy” code for something?

I recently had a brief, back-and-forth-a-few-times exchange with a fellow on that online dating site. And then, in the middle of a message, he wrote:

One question, and I hope this doesn’t offend you, but are you curvy in the sense of having a curvaceous figure, or curvy in the sense of being a Big Woman?

You might imagine how completely taken aback I was by this sort of thing. After all, if one were to actually look at my photos, there is a clear picture of my full (and fully clothed) body among them. While I’m sitting down in the photo — and, if I’m honest, it’s possible that I was 10 pounds lighter in the shot — it’s clearly representative of my proportions and the way I carry my weight.

So, let’s get back to why, when it comes to describing my physique, I listed myself as “curvy,” rather than the other options…among them “athletic,” “average” and “a little extra.” Honestly, it’s mostly because I read somewhere that people with higher confidence are more likely to describe themselves as “curvy,” while their less-confident counterparts use other options to describe themselves. And it’s also a little because I have curvy friends who’ve mentioned they get more attention online when they describe themselves as “curvy.” I’d like to be thought of someone who is confident in my body, and I’d also like to attract attention.

At any rate, you can imagine all the questions that popped into my head, beginning with:

What kind of douchebag asks this sort of question when the conversation was going pretty well? I mean, wouldn’t you just suggest meeting for coffee for an hour of your life to assess in person whether you find the other person attractive?
Is that his way of saying he’s into Big Women?
Is “curvy” a term that only women over a certain size are allowed to use? And, if so, what size is that? 14? 22? 8?
Didn’t he bother to look at my photos?
What’s on his priority list?

While sharing this story with a few girlfriends, they mostly agreed that this was a clear filtering opportunity — i.e. he’s not worthy. Another girlfriend shared that she’d been asked for her BMI during her short-lived experience with online dating.

What I’ve learned about myself is that I do feel pretty confident in my body or, at the very least, I’ve made peace with it. It’s not perfect, and I wish I were more svelte…but I also have other priorities in life right now that are more pressing than hitting the gym each day or starving myself. And I’ve found plenty of men who are very attracted to me.

What do you think this fellow meant by his question? What does it say about him? About our society?

The more I think about it, the more I suspect he has a thing for a larger, luscious Queen Latifah-like figure, but was afraid to come out and say so… And, frankly, I can see the appeal. I know a handful of Big Women who appear happy and full of life, their outer beauty manifesting as an expression of their inner joy.

are you available? or attached?

Long ago, I wrote a post entitled “are you available?” Back then, I was musing about whether or not the people I was meeting and encountering were truly available to be in a relationship with me.

I’ve recently learned of a new way of viewing this idea… You see, I had the opportunity to indulge in a free audiobook called “Attachment: The New Science of Adult Attachment and How it Can Help You Find — and Keep — Love” by Amir Levine and Rachel Heller. While I’m not all the way through yet, I’m already planning to buy the book in print, so that I can take the assessments and use it as a workbook or manual. In addition to quizzes of sorts, I’ve already found a great deal of useful advice, as well as enormously useful insights that would likely have prevented most — if not all — of my worst relationship debacles, including the latest disaster.

(Downton Abbey helps, too, I find…if I’d known how to manage men as Lady Mary does, I’d probably be better situated at present.)

The book focuses on three degrees or styles of attachment: the secure and two types of insecure, anxious and avoidant. It’s been fun to listen to the audio as I recall past relationships and how my or my partner’s behaviors have fit into these types or dynamics. I already feel infinitely wiser as I embark on my search… in fact, now I know what I’ve typically been drawn to and how to recognize right away those who are clearly avoidant, or unable to meet my emotional needs.

Let me know if you’ve read it and what you learned.