This has nothing to do with exercising or fashion but I still think it’s important & wish someone had beat it into my blonde head in my 20’s! I never did the on-line dating thing. I know friends who have. What about you? Or what is/was your dating approach?
Grab some popcorn! Or a protein bar! Here’s an exerpt from What I Learned from Dating 100 Men, from Oprah.com, by Ann Marsh:
She was 34 and she meant business, so she placed an ad with an online dating service and let the e-mails roll in…After years alone, on the cusp of my 35th birthday, I was serious. I’d learned that letting myself kiss the wrong guy set in motion a sort of unwitting hormonal bonding stronger than rational thinking. If I was going to meet the right man, I decided, I needed to remain chemical-free, to think clearly, to get to know him first.
I didn’t understand this in my 20s. Back then, I’d followed the Hollywood movie model wherein men and women tend to tumble into bed, then into love, and finally into marriage. The string of breakups I endured demonstrated that, for me at least, this strategy wasn’t working…
I was overwhelmed but exhilarated. And I overdid it. At the end of Week One, I startled friends and myself by bursting uncontrollably into tears. A lifetime of pent-up loneliness came unglued all at once. Then I hit a groove. No matter how the date went, I reminded myself I was taking a stand for what I wanted.
And I tried to relax. I steadied myself right before each new hello. Nothing was worse or more exquisite than my date’s first flicker of disappointment or approval. If he clearly wasn’t interested—like the swing-dancing entertainment lawyer or the Harvard-educated wine expert—then he was simply another woman’s catch. I got out of her way. I knew I’d meet someone else tomorrow. Even if a first date wasn’t fantastic, I tended to accept second dates to make sure I hadn’t been too hasty in my judgment. About four or five men survived through fourth or fifth dates before I said goodbye. The thing I liked best about my whole dating project was that it validated that nagging sense I’d had for years: Every Saturday night I’d spent alone or with girlfriends, I’d believed there had to be several thousand potential dates out there for me, somewhere. It turns out I was right…
To date so many men, I needed to be honest in a new way. In my 20s, when the wrong man asked me out, I usually lied. I was either (a) busy, (b) dating someone else, or (c) moving to Siberia for a year. Sensing my fib, some men refused to let go. A few talked me into dates or, worse, relationships. I marvel to think I left the nest without ever learning how to verbalize my own needs and desires.
One of my earliest electronic dates taught me about honesty. “It was really nice to meet you,” the tall, good-looking athlete wrote me in an e-mail after Date Number Two, “but I didn’t feel that indescribable something that would tell me we’re a match.” I sat there looking at my computer screen. He had found the words to describe my own sentiments. I didn’t feel rejected. I felt liberated by his courage. Better yet, I stole his line.
A handsome telecommunications executive I met over a drink at a restaurant one evening looked and sounded far less alluring to me a few days later in the sober light of day. In a subsequent telephone conversation, my whole body tensed while I told him that I didn’t get the sense he was the right one and that I didn’t want either of us to waste precious time. I wished him well. He sounded a little startled. But the discomfort was short-lived…
It’s embarrassing to admit that I was learning the very basics about personal boundaries at the age of 34… But…my newly declared boundaries kept me safe…
At times my faith flagged, like when the well-spoken National Guard pilot bought me a single California roll for dinner and called for the check…The best remedy was always the next date. When the soap opera actor or the triathlete didn’t call…—I did nothing. I let them go. I wanted a man whose actions matched his words.
Tags: chicks, dating, single, thirty-something
Leave a Reply