Online Dating vs. Root Canals

I’ve never really been good at dating, and it didn’t improve after I had to enter the awesome world of dating after divorce. I’m actually terrible at it. I don’t lie well so if I really don’t enjoy something I’ll tell them instead of appearing uber cool in their eyes. (Apparently not liking sushi is a deal-breaker.) Unless I click with them right away I can be super awkward. I never want to hurt anyone’s feelings so telling them we just won’t work is torture, but I also don’t want to waste their time or mine – there’s someone better out there for both of us. I’m also sarcastic. This works fine if they have a reasonable IQ and we’re having a live conversion – it’s pretty obvious, and I’m rarely sardonic – but I find that this doesn’t work well at all if we have a lot of impersonal communication (texting,email, etc.). I still want to bang my head into a tree over that one. To my eternal regret. But I digress. More on that later.

Online dating is a last resort, much like amputation. I don’t meet many available men in my kitchen though, and as a single parent I don’t get out as often as I’d like. I haven’t found the grocery store to be brimming over with options; I don’t tend to bond with others over the lettuce or nutritional yeasts selections. So online dating it is. I’ve actually met a few great guys, and a couple with whom I’ve remained friends. We just weren’t exactly the right fit for each other, but it’s the others that really stand out and taint the entire process.

I’d like to share the wisdom I’ve acquired. Probably more for your entertainment, but maybe this’ll be you in the future. I sincerely hope not. Online dating should be the poster child for making your marriage work. I highly suggest you do that. So here’s what I see, and what really doesn’t work.  Learn from me, I’m begging you.

1. You cannot be married.

2. Metro? The man-bun? Not attractive to most of us. Like at all. We’re women. Unless we are raging, bitter feminists, we want to feel cherished and protected. We want you to be the guy, and we want to be the girl. Pick up ANY romance novel. Not one male main character will be beta. They’re all alphas. The only feminine side you should have is us. Just a tip. You’re welcome.

3. You can’t be married. It bears repeating.

4. It disturbs me how many of these men are looking for a “partner in crime.” I like being a law abiding citizen, and please stop calling me Bonnie. Clyde was not a catch.

5. No, really, you can’t be married.

6. Please spare me the shirtless bathroom shots. At the very least, please clean your bathroom first. And put the toilet seat down, for the love of Pete. Flushing would be helpful.

7. No, I’m not interested in becoming part of your swingers group.

8. They lie about their age. By a lot. And I mean by like 20 years. Ok sure you were 40. At one point. Like back in 1990. We can tell.

9. Your username. PrahbDeep. Yes, I see what you did there with that clever moniker. No thank you. And my friend is still looking for a new doctor because you were hers and she’s grossed out now. You may want to rethink that, Doc. DeepMcLuvin…also clever, but no. I’ll spare you the rest of the names because they’re too gross, but I have screenshots so I can totally back this up. Actually….no – I’m totally writing about those soon!

10. I’m tall. Ish. Tall enough. And I have a genuine thing for high heels, so you have to be taller than me. If I feel I can take you in a fight it just won’t work for me (also see number 2 above, the Man-Bun). I know it’s not fair, and I’m sorry about that, but I like to feel feminine because I’m, you know – a girl. I just can’t do that if I tower over you.

11. You can’t be married. I wasn’t kidding about that. I’m seeing a real pattern here and it’s disturbing.

All that awesomeness in one virtual bar. I know, I’m soooooo lucky! But then you throw in something like a restricted diet and it’s just awesomeness personified and squared. That’s when the real fun begins!

Let’s imagine for a moment that you actually meet someone with whom you feel a connection.

Him: Would you like to meet for a drink?
Me: No, sorry, I’m not drinking right now, but we can bond over water! (They immediately think you’re a recovering alcoholic and you can actually hear them blocking you over cyberspace.)

Him: I’d love to share a cheese plate, what do you think?

*You immediately start crying because you haven’t had cheese in a year*

Him: What do you want to talk about?
Me: The state of your colon. How’s that working for you? (Not really.)

I know. Super sexy, amirite??? Who doesn’t want a piece of THAT?! So put all of it together with my inability to dress properly until after 7 a.m. and I’m not looking like a treasure. Typically, this morning costume consists of fuzzy, mismatched neon socks, some ill-fitting yoga pants left over from a Goodwill purge, no bra in a boldly colored tank top, and I look like Superfly with the flu. I justify this by telling myself I’m the only one who sees me other than my children. And what do they care??? They wouldn’t notice unless it interrupted my ability to make them breakfast. But add on to all that hotness my yellow cotton robe left over from my maternity days and men everywhere want me. Said robe completes the ensemble also known as my “rehab look.” I’ve committed to burning all of these should my Dream Man come along. He’s welcome.

The struggle is real. Dating is a precarious balance of who you really are (rehab look), and who you wish you were (facebook friends?). Fortunately, I’ve lost a lot of my insecurities about myself. I’m totally comfortable in my own skin and pretty upfront about who I am (obviously – see…this entire confession on the internet for all to witness). I’m not as monumentally bad at dating as I was. I met a really great guy a couple years ago. We totally connected and he was smoking hot, with a job, a superior brain and a sense of humor. Unfortunately he worked abroad a LOT and we were reduced to email often. I don’t suggest this, as things can be greatly misconstrued. I don’t think either of us were quiiiiite ready to date yet anyway, carrying some residual baggage. So back to online dating I woefully went.

I’ve long since dealt with the baggage I didn’t know I still had then, and I am determined to do this dating thing. Ironically, I have no desire now. I’m pretty happy on my own, and I’m really busy and preoccupied at the moment. Should that right guy come along who’s also totally into nutrition and fitness, that would be super and I’d totally go for it. Also advantageous is the fact that my condition (rheumatoid arthritis, basically) has greatly improved and the only thing I avoid doing is cartwheels – because I’m 46. Just for good measure I may burn the rehab look later today. In the meantime, if any of you know a tall, intelligent, funny, Christian guy who meets the above requirements (especially #s 1, 3, 5 & 11), send them my way and I’ll see if they drum up any interest because online dating well and truly blows.

Just FYI,  I wrote this a year ago. Online dating is still just as bad as it was then, kind of like a root canal without anesthesia. Also, I’ve since retired the rehab look mentioned below. My future better half is welcome. 😉

• Kate