In Which I Keep Bumbling Around…
Image by Pixabay
This week is my 48th birthday. I know women are supposed to be all coy and stuff around their age, but I've reached the point in my life where I'm delighting in every year. And as I like to tell people, I flatter myself that my face looks 35, but my knees feel like they marched in the Civil War. Getting older is a mixed bag, but one I'm glad I still get to carry.
My birthday hits right after Valentine's Day, which is amazing when it comes to buying discounted chocolate, but also does tend to remind me on every birthday that I'm still single. So a few days ago, I jumped back into the messy mix of online dating.
As many of my friends know, I've been dating online since the days of dial-up internet. I joke that there are only three online dating platforms I haven't tried: J-Date for Jewish singles; Black People Meet (for obvious reasons); and Farmers Only, because all my dad's friends are on there. Not even joking.
Everything else I've pretty much done, with varying degrees of success and LOTS of really interesting stories. I've done matchmaking services, speed dating events, and had acquaintances set me up. And yet it seems I am still, as the soundtrack for "Urban Cowboy" stated, looking for love in all the wrong places.
But hope - just like discount chocolate - keeps reappearing. This time it came in the form of dating app promos on my phone. So a few weeks ago, I started Bumbling around again. The last man I dated, a little over two years ago, I met through Bumble. He was really lovely, a great kisser, and made me laugh until I cried - the first man I've ever dated who did that, which has set the bar pretty high. As much as I wanted that to turn into something longer-term, it was a classic case of right place/wrong time, and we didn't last more than a few weeks. But given that experience, I thought I'd dive into the Bumble waters again.
And friends - it's bleak out there. As I said before, I've been dating online in one form or another for a quarter century (sidenote: GOOD GOD. A quarter century. Help.) so you'd think I would have seen it all. But it's different now. It's harder and harder to find men who actually want to carry on a conversation through the app, or who seem to actually like women at all. The number of men who unload all their drama and demands in what is supposed to be their "bio" section is scary (sidenote: "bio" means "biography" which means this is where you sell yourself, fellas). Ethically non-monogamous couples seeking partners abound. No shade if that's your lifestyle, but it's not mine and nothing in my profile indicates that it is. I must have a "let me be your third" face. Is that the opposite of resting bitch face? I dunno. But I don't like it. It's getting harder and harder to sort the wheat from the chaff, or even to gather in enough for a decent harvest. The farm metaphors are a stretch, I know - but so is the hunt for love online.
At this point, as I turn 48, my life is pretty darn fantastic. I have a home of my own that's the perfect size for just me, a job that lets me be creative and communicative and garnered a whole host of birthday cards from colleagues, friends all over the world who love me, and a crazy, loving family that lives minutes away and encourages my worldwide adventures.
And yet...
The desire to have a partner, to have someone who supports and cares for me in a way that's unique to a romantic partner, is still there. I've never truly had it, not in the long term. Not from someone that I could lean on and trust as much as I trust myself. And I do still want to experience that, in this second half of my life. I refuse to say "last half" - that's too dark. Second half is what we're going with here.
So friends - save me from Bumbling around again. Send me your single male friends. Hook a sister up. My only requirement (outside of the usual emotionally stable, gainfully employed, no criminal record stuff) is that they make me laugh - which is tough, because I am freaking hilarious.
Send help. And snacks. Because it's tough out here, looking for love in all the wrong places.
