Opposites attract and build a life together blending their differences. People fall in love with childhood friends—before their personalities have fully developed. People experience love at first sight. And people lose the love of their lives in tragedy only to fall in love again.
What brings people together and what keeps them together is
unique to each couple. Some couples grow apart and stay together to raise their
children. Other couples are bonded through life challenges that make them
stronger. Some share hobbies and activity interests, making them feel like two
halves of a whole.
One thing I know predictably to be true is that no website
and no matchmaker knows the secret to compatibility. Compatibility is a blend
of personality types, life experience, cultural and religious backgrounds,
interests, and compromise.
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In one 48-hour span of my life, I felt the full weight of
both success and failure in online dating. I met my ex-boyfriend online dating
roughly five years ago. We were together for two years, and he meant a great
deal to me. Unfortunately, he didn’t love me “enough.” Last weekend, he got
married in a glorious ceremony. He waited a long time for the love of his life,
and, as much as it does hurt, I am still happy for them—he deserves to be
fulfilled, and she loves a good man.
Less than 48 hours later, my ex-husband texted me pictures
of his newborn twins with the woman he met online before our divorce was
finalized. We had lost a pregnancy during the last year of our marriage, and
every woman that’s been there knows that the raw pain of that loss never, ever
goes away. Receiving pictures of his new babies? There’s not much to say about
that.
On the up side, a 40-year-old friend of mine just got
engaged to a man she met nine months ago online. She’s been through more than
her share of horrible dates and been hounded by quite a few stalkers. While
everyone else pressured her and called her “picky,” she knew in her heart of
hearts that she needed and deserved someone special.
My friend Cat met her husband online, and they are happily
married and have built a loving home, complete with a beautiful daughter and an
adorable son. She paid her dues, and a warm breeze entered her soul when Tommy
came into her life.
Most of us hate the concept of online dating, and the
reality of it is even worse. Take a date I had toward the end of this summer.
He was 41-years-old, divorced, no kids, and a professional print production
salesperson. Reportedly, we were “compatible,” but I’m STILL trying to figure
out how.
He wanted to take me to a Cubs game the week before, but
after he texted me that I should bring my overnight bag, I declined. What’s
with this “first-date sleepover thing?” I’ve been faced with it before. It’s
like trying to skip every single step of dating—steal every base all at once.
Ever the idiot, I accepted a rescheduled date with this guy.
It’s hard to really judge someone you haven’t actually met in person. As we
were sitting at the restaurant Carnival in Chicago, he said, “So, you have a
cat?”
I smiled and said I do, surprised he’d even ask me about
that.
He continued, “You like a little pu**y?”
I almost died, but instead, my expression went stale, and I
said, “Strike one. Don’t talk like that.”
He laughed and said he was just kidding, but of course, my
strike wasn’t enough to call him out.
“Come on, you’ve never been with another woman?” he asked.
What was this about? I smothered the little psychology monster in my head. I couldn’t care less about anyone’s sexual orientation, but this guy was orienting himself toward a side of me he would not much care for.
I gave him my “I think you’re pathetic, and I’m bored” laugh
and said I’m into men. I told him if I was into women, I wouldn’t be here with
him, and he wouldn’t stand a chance. After all, who knows a woman better than
another woman?
After dinner, we’d planned to see a movie. I honestly could
have left and been fine with it. Alas, it was time for the movie.
“My condo is just upstairs. I have some new movies, or we
can get one on-demand,” he said.
Inside voice:
Mace? Check. He hasn’t been handsy. Pointy, high heels? Check. Friends know
where I am? Check. Fine…but approach with caution.
In the elevator, he asked if I brought an overnight bag.
I laughed at his arrogance. “There’s no WAY I’m staying
over.”
“Are you a prude or something?” he asked.
“Strike two,” I sighed.
“Come on, I’m kidding. Don’t be mad.”
Inside voice: Is
he just trying too hard? Is he just nervous and saying stupid things? Maybe he
doesn’t know how to make small talk? At the same time, I just really didn’t
care…I knew I wasn’t going to see him again anyway. THIS was NOT my man.
When he offered alcohol, I had a soda. Not even if I were to
see a rainbow shine out of a leprechaun’s butt would I have a drink and risk
compromising my decision-making skills. He seemed to chill out. He hadn’t so
much as tried to hold my hand. By now, I was feeling like a feral cat: paranoid,
scrappy, and ready to run.
His condo really was fantastic. He collected art from all
over the world, and I’m sure he paid an enormous amount of cash for his
spectacular view of the city. But you know what? At the end of the day, he can’t
buy himself manners…or ME.
He popped in the movie, and while he didn’t make a single
shady move, I still felt suspicious, which made me think I was overreacting. Still,
a woman’s gut instinct is a biological wonder. I wish my gut was tied directly to my feet though sometimes…or a fist.
Halfway through the movie as I was returning from the restroom, he
stretched his arms over his head, spread them across the back of the couch in a
power gesture and said (with a distant look on his face), “I can’t wait to bang
you.”
STRIKE THREE.I spun on my heel and nearly choked on the words I wanted to toss like bile all over the room.
With a cold, dead look on my face and my eyes fixed on my
purse, I said flatly, “That’s NOT going
to happen. What’s wrong with you? Don’t be THAT GUY. I’m done.”
He jumped from the couch and tried to convince me not to
leave, but I was at the door. Frankly, I didn’t hear a damned thing that came
out of his mouth after “bang you.”
“Can I walk you to
your car?”
Inside voice: As if.
“No.”
His words jolted me over and over and over again like an
annoying memory hiccup, despite Skrillex’s song “Bangarang” blasting through my
car speakers. Befitting. 
I eventually asked one of my male friends why a guy would
say something like that to a woman. This man doesn’t NEED to act like that! He’s
attractive, well-established, and he may have a lot to offer…no reason to act
so desperately overt.
I can’t really argue with that, but I certainly don’t echo
his “take whatever I can get” philosophy.
Like my friend that just got engaged at 40, I’m not just
looking for Any Man.
I’m not lonely.
I’m not desperate.
I don’t NEED a man.
I need a
champion.
Until he comes around, I guess I’m stuck calling strikes...and
trying to avoid wayward balls.
