I’ve been loathe to cover details of my dating life on my blog for fear that my FH (future husband) will read them and get scared away. Well, the time has come for me to share, so the future hubby is just going to have to be charmed by my transparency.
I am living in a dating desert. The last time I went on a third date? When my ex-boyfriend and I started dating in the fall of 2006. Did you hear me?? 2006! We broke up a year and a half ago, in March of 2008. I think I could count the total number of dates I’ve had since then on one hand (okay one hand and two fingers). It’s not like I’m purposefully not dating - I actually want to be in a relationship.
This is not a pity party
Before I continue, let me make it clear that I am not looking to psycho-analyze every possible reason I am single. And this post is NOT a pity party. I’m sure many people have been single for much longer than me.
Most of the time I really enjoy my singlehood – but a good cuddle on the couch would be nice too. I am not sorry that I’ve been on exactly two second dates in a year and a half (during one of which the guy told me, “Women are like cars – better to lease then trade up when you’re done.”).
I think the “dating desert” comes from my preference for quality over quantity. Some might call that being picky. I call it “I enjoy my life and someone has to be pretty cool (with chemistry) to fit in it.” My time is precious. I have more activities I enjoy and people to see than free hours in the week. While I would love to meet someone, I’m just not that into the idea of artificially stuffing MORE activities or random people into my schedule with that as my sole goal.
Have you tried online dating?!
Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, likes to ask me if I’ve tried online dating. Yes. Twice. And I lost my patience after three weeks both times. I hated the feeling of having a “dating inbox” that caused me to obsess over what was in it every day, often filling up with sleazy messages like “You look like fun – let’s have some.” I also didn’t have any chemistry with the people I met in person. Someone will inevitably then add, “But I went on 30 bad dates until I met THE ONE!”
Call me crazy, but I don’t particularly want to go on 30 bad dates in the hopes of having one good one. Is that so wrong? Is it also so wrong to think that instead of mechanically arranging a first date based on my online dating resume that someone will see me from across the room in a coffee shop, think I look interesting, take a risk and come say hello?
Is my approach unreasonable?
I ask these questions not with frustration, but with curiosity. Am I expecting too much? Is online dating and scheduling less-than-exciting-but-hey-I-left-the-house dates just how it works these days?
I still subscribe to two newspapers (the kind that get thrown onto your doorstep, not delivered to your feed reader); I still like to hold books in my hand (no offense Kindle), and I still believe in chance meetings, locked eyes across the room, and the thrill of talking to someone in public by our own nervous volition. Call me old-fashioned, but that’s just how I roll. Hopefully if I haven’t scared the FH away by now, he’ll appreciate that.