At this point in my life, I have precisely zero desire to be in a fully committed relationship. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to those who know my back story — the trauma of my last marriage alone is enough to put anyone off serious relationships for life — but I am far enough along the healing journey to know that I do want a little something.
Nothing big. Nothing grand. Something casual, but connected. Something fun, but with meaning. I’m seeking the joy of meeting and connecting with other humans, the thrill of mutual attraction. I may be in my 40s with three kids, but I’m not a robot.
So, I date. Specifically, I’m on dating apps.
Having been in committed relationships for the best part of the past two decades, I have never actually dated before. I met my first husband through a friend and my second husband at a bar. So, I am fresh to the dating game, save for a couple of boyfriends in my teens.
And what a game it is. Online dating is HECTIC. I started out full of hope and optimism, and to be fair my first few dates were actually pretty good. Mostly nice guys who were emerging from divorces or long-term relationship breakdowns, just navigating middle-aged single life with the best of us.
Eventually, though, the initial nerves and cute messages either fizzle out or become replaced with signs of disconnect, insecurity and red flags. There was the one guy who insisted I turn on read receipts so he could monitor when I was actually on my phone. There was the guy who insisted he wasn’t obsessed with sex, but then went on to send sexually aggressive messages out of the blue, daily, and wondered why I didn’t respond with excitement every time. And I really tip my hat to the guy who asked for a photo of me smiling, but I had to make sure I was showing my teeth.
Of course, I’m sure I’ve been ‘that girl’ to several. That girl who wouldn’t shut up about her recent career change. That girl who tried to awkward hug him at the start of the date. That girl that kept asking him out even though we only ever kissed once and she couldn’t get the message that she was in the friend zone.
Eek. So why? Why do I do it?
Aren’t I too old for this shit?
Aren’t I too tired?
Do I even have time for this?
Well, here’s the thing. The very reasons I question why I date at this stage of my life are the very reasons I do it. Yes, I’m over 40. Yes, I’m tired. No, I don’t have a stack of time that is mine and mine alone.
But if I don’t use that time doing something that is completely separate from my usual life, I will lose myself again. I will lose myself in the exact same way that I lost myself in my marriage to a narcissist. I will lose myself like I did every time I put my ex’s needs and what I thought my children needed over my own. I will become the shell of myself I was when I finally walked away, promising to never leave myself behind in that way ever again.
Meeting someone new, who knows absolutely nothing about my life, is filling my cup like you wouldn’t believe. Because these people are choosing to spend time with me based on their impression of me — the human, the woman, the individual — rather than me, the single mum, the divorced 40-something, the cheated-on ex-wife. After being defined by things for so long, there’s something uniquely fulfilling about the connections I’ve made with people I’ve met through dating. And it’s the most liberated I’ve felt in a very long time.
It’s not always a positive experience. Sometimes it feels like another full-time job. But it’s perfect for me, right now. Nothing big. Nothing grand. Just a single gal, living her best life, pretending she doesn’t have emails to send or school lunches to pack when she gets home.
Works for me.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Jack Finnigan on Unsplash