Fandango provocatively asks… how we met our significant otter, or if we don’t have an SO, how we met our last one. My last otter wasn’t “significant” in the sense of being a long-term relationship (a few months of contact); but it was important in the sense that it marked the end of my dating days.
I met this guy ~ let’s call him “Michael” ~ via a dating site in 2016 after I took a break from dating. I had created a hidden profile and impulsively went live with it while at the Los Angeles County Fair because I was in a optimistic mood while hanging out with friends. What a fun day that was!
Anyway, I met a few guys who were meh and then Michael. I don’t want to say a lot about Michael right now or the specifics of our time together because that emphasizes what happened (and encourages people to give advice 🙄), when the crucial aspect is the totality of my dating experiences.
You’ve heard of the straw that broke the camel’s back, right? Well, I’m the camel in this scenario and these guys were straws, none of them that important, certainly not Michael. But he was the last one, and I did break. Before him, I met a bunch of lying liars, all in different disguises, and he was a lying liar too… wrapped up in a disguise I hadn’t seen before. But still he was the same as the rest, and when I understood this I was finished with it all.
I fell into a depression, not because of him, but over the loss of the dream/fantasy that I would find someone. For decades, I had nurtured this dream, fed it romance novels and love songs and Meg Ryan romcoms. I truly thought I would have the happily ever after, my soul mate, my eternal flame. Giving it up left a huge void of darkness. I cried all the time. It was hard to sleep or I slept too much. Negative thought spirals took control of my mind and refused to let go. It took about a year and a half for me to get better.
But getting better is an ongoing process, and it does not include dating. I know people mean well when they encourage me to try again or say nice things about meeting someone, but part of my healing is coming to terms with the fact that this is not going to happen and that part of my life is over. I can’t allow myself to be subject to the agendas of liars and narcissists again; I can’t put myself in the position of being harassed and stalked by whiners and bullies when I don’t do what they want. It’s too traumatic and stressful to think about. I’m getting shaky even typing the words.
I realized that dating sites themselves were a huge part of the problem for me. They attract the worst sorts of men (whether pay sites or not), and the older you are the worse it gets. The men were significantly sh*ttier when I was on at age 55 than when I was 50. They acted like they were doing me a favor by even saying hello, like I should be grateful for their attention. I get that other women are able to ignore the jerkos and focus on finding the prize in the pile of poo, but that’s really hard for me. I am affected by comments from jerkos. That’s why I like to preemptively block them here and on Twitter when I can. 👻
So, when anyone asks for my opinion of dating sites, I tell them that they all suck. If you enjoy becoming a product/commodity and having a people look you over for your features as if you’re a TV on Amazon and reject you for a better deal, then maybe you will enjoy the sites. Not me.
Besides, we shouldn’t meet anyone now anyway. Who knows how often they wash their hands? Back to cybersex! 😍
Images from Fandango and Google.
©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.