Being a single woman in 2016 presents all kinds of challenges, if you want to ever share your life with someone again. First off, let's be clear. I've had two practice marriages (some call them divorces, but that is so....common.). Anyway, I never thought I would have one practice marriage, let alone two. While I'm not ready to jump into marriage like others around me have--now 3 in the last 5 months, that is another topic for another day--not enough wine, margaritas, or creme vodka this early in the morning to tackle the dated/married/'non' labeled' that just took the proverbial plunge.) I am a results-oriented woman...with the motto some will, some won't, so what...next. I digress).
In short, I don't want to do this thing called life alone. I'm open to what the official label turns out to be...doesn't have to be "husband," could be companion, wingman, escort (wait, strike that...sounds slutty), mate (sounds kind of like from the land down under? does it come with the famous Vegas show or song?), soulmate, kept man, squeeze, cabana boy (why would escort bother me?), or just ol' <insert name here>.
In the movie Shall We Dance (2004), Susan Sarandon's character, Beverly Clark, had one of the best lines of all times about this topic. She said, "We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things, all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness'.
...So I'm on a "witness search." How do you do that when you work lots of hours (don't want to date/marry anyone you work with...been there done that...have a closet full of t-shirts), live in a rural area (where dating and musical chairs have much in common), know that Zumba class is not the way to meet new men with my moves, etc. Well, of course, you decide to go the proverbial meat market in cyberspace--online dating.
And while I keep my "paired" friends (and even some of my "non-paired" friends) entertained with my stories , online dating brings so many unique challenges. There isn't a week that goes by that I'm not "favorited" (what does that really mean anyway?), liked, emailed, etc. by a possible husband/companion/stud/witness. All well and good, but man, it takes work. ... more energy than going to the gym--I mean all of it...having the internal argument about going to the gym...driving there...having the internal argument about getting out of the car...walking in...etc. All of it). I digress...again.
So, I'm in. All In. Fine. It's good for me. I'm an online dater. Friends say it's fun! Yea...apparently, so are root canals. I've been contacted by men who are 23 (maybe I should call those "boys." For heaven's sake, they could be my son) to 72 year olds (and yes...I did background checks, but I don't think they are friends of my parents. I know...don't be jealous....I'll share). I've been contacted by men who can barely articulate a complete thought--I'm talking non-complex ones like, "Good Morning" to ones that are so impressed with themselves that I'm surprised Match hasn't kicked them off for posting their CV's. I've been contacted by men I know in my own community (who I wouldn't consider....awkward!) to those who I apparently are looking for citizenship...or for me to send them money, iTunes gift cards, etc. I've been contacted by married men. (How do you know that, you ask? Well, the text message in the middle of my Rotary meeting saying "Are you having an affair with my husband?" was my first clue. And no, I didn't write, "Depends, who is your husband?")
Over the 18+ months, I've had more coffee and drinks than I've had in my life. Come to think about it....I don't even like coffee. Some fun times. Some downright painful. Some stalkers. Some friends. Some interests. Some dating. Some maybes. It's a process...they say. Yea, so is passing a kidney stone.
Seriously, it's a journey. The journey has laughs. I mean MANY laughs. Some heartache. Some Ups. Some Downs. Some boring times. Some exciting times. Some loves. Some hates. Some....ewwwwwws. Come to think of it...online dating is like life.
In short, I don't want to do this thing called life alone. I'm open to what the official label turns out to be...doesn't have to be "husband," could be companion, wingman, escort (wait, strike that...sounds slutty), mate (sounds kind of like from the land down under? does it come with the famous Vegas show or song?), soulmate, kept man, squeeze, cabana boy (why would escort bother me?), or just ol' <insert name here>.
In the movie Shall We Dance (2004), Susan Sarandon's character, Beverly Clark, had one of the best lines of all times about this topic. She said, "We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things, all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness'.
...So I'm on a "witness search." How do you do that when you work lots of hours (don't want to date/marry anyone you work with...been there done that...have a closet full of t-shirts), live in a rural area (where dating and musical chairs have much in common), know that Zumba class is not the way to meet new men with my moves, etc. Well, of course, you decide to go the proverbial meat market in cyberspace--online dating.
And while I keep my "paired" friends (and even some of my "non-paired" friends) entertained with my stories , online dating brings so many unique challenges. There isn't a week that goes by that I'm not "favorited" (what does that really mean anyway?), liked, emailed, etc. by a possible husband/companion/stud/witness. All well and good, but man, it takes work. ... more energy than going to the gym--I mean all of it...having the internal argument about going to the gym...driving there...having the internal argument about getting out of the car...walking in...etc. All of it). I digress...again.
So, I'm in. All In. Fine. It's good for me. I'm an online dater. Friends say it's fun! Yea...apparently, so are root canals. I've been contacted by men who are 23 (maybe I should call those "boys." For heaven's sake, they could be my son) to 72 year olds (and yes...I did background checks, but I don't think they are friends of my parents. I know...don't be jealous....I'll share). I've been contacted by men who can barely articulate a complete thought--I'm talking non-complex ones like, "Good Morning" to ones that are so impressed with themselves that I'm surprised Match hasn't kicked them off for posting their CV's. I've been contacted by men I know in my own community (who I wouldn't consider....awkward!) to those who I apparently are looking for citizenship...or for me to send them money, iTunes gift cards, etc. I've been contacted by married men. (How do you know that, you ask? Well, the text message in the middle of my Rotary meeting saying "Are you having an affair with my husband?" was my first clue. And no, I didn't write, "Depends, who is your husband?")
Over the 18+ months, I've had more coffee and drinks than I've had in my life. Come to think about it....I don't even like coffee. Some fun times. Some downright painful. Some stalkers. Some friends. Some interests. Some dating. Some maybes. It's a process...they say. Yea, so is passing a kidney stone.
Seriously, it's a journey. The journey has laughs. I mean MANY laughs. Some heartache. Some Ups. Some Downs. Some boring times. Some exciting times. Some loves. Some hates. Some....ewwwwwws. Come to think of it...online dating is like life.