No-Dating-March

It might have been eHarmony that put me over the edge, and after only  days of membership.

Under the “communicating with” tab labeled “my turn” was the photo of the only man whose “smile” I bothered to return. He was far away, but politically compatible, active, and importantly, very cute. I hate to think of myself as superficial, but why bother communicating with guys who are totally unattractive to me?

As choreographed by eHarmony, the cute guy sent me a set of multiple choice “quick questions,” which I’d dutifully answered. Then I was directed to send him back questions, which he answered.

This battery of test-like encounters, by the way, come after being subjected to a long series of multiple choice questions used to assess compatibility with matches and then being urged to answer yet more questions on my profile since matches don’t get to see the personality test. The on site profile is a multiple choice, short answer and short essay section of the exam.

And now it was “my turn” again. EHarmony cheerfully informed me it was time to “dig deeper.” I could write my own short essay questions or choose (exactly three) from their list. This whole process had taken quite a few days, and I didn’t feel like I’d gotten to know cute guy a whit better than from the first smile and I’d checked out his profile. I was suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

Truthfully, it wasn’t all eHarmony’s fault, though.

Partly it was just me. The first thing I’d do when I shut my iPhone alarm off in the morning, was check my email. Did I have new messages from any of the sites? Was there a message from an interesting guy? Or were there more illiterate missives from 22-year-olds or 56-year-olds or those carrying “a few extra pounds”? Did any of my new matches look promising? Walking down the hallways at work I’d check email: Anything new? Anything good? And the last thing before bed: checking, hoping.

I had even started seeing someone I’d met in a coffee shop, but I hadn’t heard from him in days and assumed that was over. Though I wasn’t sure. There were all these other men I was communicating with and might meet in person at some point: there was the guy who I liked as a friend but he wanted more, a younger guy who might’ve been perfect except for distance and possibly deal-breaking political leanings, an older guy who might’ve been too old, and I can’t even remember now who else.

It occurred to me that all this dating and thinking about dating, while entertaining, was a big distraction. Wouldn’t it be nice not to obsess over men for a little bit? To just focus on healing after a recent surgery, losing weight I’d gained because of inactivity from surgery, and generally working towards feeling both well and good about myself again?

More on my month plan in the next post.

Hell Bent

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i guess your hell bent on finding a relationship and are too scared to be ith someone who thinks your beautiful but might not want to have a relationship with you

This was from a guy whom I already told I didn’t think we were a good match. It kind of speaks for itself, I know, but I can’t resist taking this one apart.

I’ll set aside the fact that I just can’t date anyone who doesn’t know how to use an apostrophe as a given and move on.

“Hell bent”…swoon! He sure knows how to sweep a lady right off her feet!

Perhaps somebody in his life told him that if you want to turn that rejection around, try going on the offensive. If she turns you down, call her out for being “stubbornly and recklessly determined” (hell bent, according to Miriam Webster).  Trying to follow his logic here…I am foolishly desiring a relationship…that makes the choice to be with someone who doesn’t want a relationship, prudent?

Not to sound too vain, but he seems to be suggesting that “someone who thinks your beautiful” makes him uniquely qualified to go out with me. If I were going to respond to his message, maybe I would point out that a) the fact that he is only interested based on liking my photo is not really that flattering and b) pretty much every man who contacts me on a dating site is at least somewhat attracted by my photo. I don’t get a whole lot of come-ons that begin, “I think you’re kind of homely but I thought I’d try to have sex with you anyway.”

Body Style

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If this is what you think “fit”, “toned” or “athletic” (depending on the dating site’s terminology), looks like, you might need to readjust your expectations for online dating. Based on photos and meetings in person, here is my guide to interpreting the most common choices for “body type” or “body style”:

fit, toned, or athletic: I’ve got muscles…somewhere under here! I mean, I used to be in shape, but face it, ladies, I’m way better than average so I can’t put that. Yeah, I’m fit…maybe with a little beer gut.

about average: So, I’ve put on some pounds, but no more than the ordinary American male, right? And when I wear my shirt untucked I’m looking pretty hot, anyway.

a few extra pounds, a little extra: The doctor says I have to lose weight or I’ll probably die early. But you only live once!

What’s weird to me is that a guy will write choose “fit” and then post photos of his not-so-fit bare torso. Do some guys have body dysmorphic disorder in reverse? They look at their flabby bodies and think, “I’m too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy, it hurts…” Sing it, Right Said Fred!