I wanted to find a life partner but after periods of stop and go dating, I realized that my search for love was always losing out to kids, work or binge watching on Netflix. Then I thought about it, if to be fulfilled I need to have a soul mate, shouldn’t I treat it as a priority? I am a professional project manager, so I decided to date as a project with a plan, criteria and schedule. This turned out very time consuming, and with three kids and a job, a logistical undertaking worthy of a four star general.
That Saturday morning, I fed the kids breakfast, retired to the privacy of my bedroom, and signed up simultaneously to three dating sites, each intended to capture a slightly different demographic. Match.com for its wide-spread popularity, eHarmony befitting the serious relationship minded, and J-Date to hedge my bet with the tribe. It took me a couple of hours to put together Match.com. I came back from a bathroom break to find my tween daughter filling in the “looking for” portion of my profile. She told me: “Mommy, don’t worry, I know what kind of a man we need.” Good for her, because I sure didn’t know what I need. It took me just another hour to Jew it up for J-Date. eHarmony was a nightmare, I had to answer so many questions that I almost gave up and googled the thousands of answers to “how long does it take to answer eharmony questions?”
I had a multi-step plan, each phase fitting into the next, like a series of Russian nesting dolls. This was a numbers game, and the objective was to build a pipeline of possibilities through the following activities that were only to terminate upon identification of “the one”:
- Review potential matches recommended by each dating site and “wink”, “like” “flirt”, etc. which-ever ones passed my initial criteria.
- Read emails daily, and again, review their profile for potential compatibility. Write a “thank you, no thank you email” for the rejects, and begin an exploratory correspondence with potentially suitable mates.
- Go on a coffee dates with those who seemed literate and promising.
- If a coffee meeting was a success, proceed to a real date.
- Have multiple dates with the same man, until it either fizzles out, or I find my one and only.
Within a month, I went through hundreds of profiles, and to keep track of every suitor’s convoluted profile name (i.e. Joe20013LivingitupinDC) , I maintained a running roster of their profile aliases and corresponding real name.
Coffee dates, would usually last between an hour to an hour and a half, in addition to time for beautifying myself, and travel there and back. For effectiveness, I would have these shorter dates during my lunch breaks, within walking distance of work, or in a strip mall after I fed the kids dinner. This meant regularly shifting my mind, wardrobe, and appearance between kids, work and men.
For first encounters, I like wearing dresses and heels, but what is suitable at work is not very feminine and attractive on a date. So I became a master of flexible and quick outfit changes worthy of the Matahari herself. I would wear a dress to work, a demure camisole underneath, with sensible heels, conservative jewelry and minimal makeup. After work I would whip off the cami to reveal cleavage, slip on the sky high heels stashed in my bag, put on dangly jewelry, and of course dab on extra mascara and lipstick to show off my (natural) pout. Sometimes this change would happen at the bathroom at work as I would sneak my dazzling self out, sometimes at a fast food restroom between work and the date, and sometimes even in the car. Oh yes, my car was regularly stocked with cosmetics, make up remover, paper towels, tweezers, pantyhose, hair gel, brush, and changes of clothes.
Eventually, a few coffee dates turned into real dates to restaurants, movies, the theater, and of comedy clubs. Some fizzled out after a few encounters, and following a couple of months of systematic dating and screening, I settled on a rotation of the same three guys on a regular basis. Albert was a white 6’4 man exactly my age, so we actually got each other’s references to Mork and Mindy, and Weird Al Yankovic. The second was Antonio, Hispanic, self-made professional who liked to dance and was in tip-top shape. And rounding up the trio, Alroy, a 6’7 African American IT professional with a great sense of humor. I called it “Dating the rainbow”. I didn’t mean for it to be a rainbow, but it did tickle my fancy, and I even put down on my profile: “equal opportunity dater” (I hope this was not misinterpreted.)
I did question whether I should serial date, one man after the other until I settled on the right one. Or should I parallel date a few guys simultaneously until I figured out who I liked best. I decided that at my age, time is of the essence, and if I want to give my love life its due, I need to parallel date. This turned out to be very very very very difficult.
I had to schedule every one of the men to make sure that they got enough attention from me, and to have an opportunity for our relationship to develop. Each got one weeknight or lunch, as well as a few hours over the weekend, and with time in between for texting/emailing/etc. On my smartphone and online calendar Albert, Antonio and Alroy, each had their own color coded entries and nick-name.
I won’t lie or demur, it was fun. They looked differently, acted differently, and each had interests that appealed to a distinct side of me. For Antonio, I was a seductress earth goddess, and during our encounters, as I batted my eyelashes, often a Spanish guitar would play in the background. He was a Latin dance and love machine, and had an accent to die for. I was not yummy, I was “jummy”, he went “chopping” for jewelry for me, oh, and apparently a “vagina” is a “bagina”.
With Albert, I let my sexy geek flag fly high. He found my ethnic background fascinating, and he managed to learn many languages to the beginner level. So he thought I sounded like Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle. When I mentioned how I adore the ballet, a month later he surprised me with tickets to the Kennedy Center for my birthday. I dropped my love for Monty Python’s Flying Circus, and he he took me to Spamalot. Albert also fulfilled my life long dream of learning to play Dungeons and Dragons (and how I don’t want to ever do it again – Ever!)
Alroy was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, and with a great sense of humor to boot. With him I was a wholesome and fragile flower, and we explored different museums and restaurants together.
On top of raising three kids and holding down a responsible job, the mental gymnastics of dating three men simultaneously, while having their perks (wink, wink), turned out to be too much even for my versatile brain. As I was getting ready to see Albert, Antonio would text, and Alroy would call. I had to be careful not to mix up their names, our activities, preferences, etc. I also had to be careful for the babysitter not to see me meeting three different men. Thankfully, she is a bit hard of hearing and short sighted, and she seemed to always cheer my attempts at finding love.
So eventually, I had to let two of them go and break it off. Alroy and I began drifting away, since I was not good at being a delicate flower, I just let us drift apart. Albert was more difficult, because I honestly liked him, I just didn’t “love” him. I didn’t want to tell him that unbeknownst to him, there was a contest that he lost. So I told that my ex-boyfriend wants to try again and I want to give him a second chance. Apparently, he has heard this one before from other women. Ouch.
Antonio, to this day, he does not know that there was a contest, and that he won. Although about a year later, I did end up breaking up with him as well. It was an exhausting, but fun filled six months.
Dating LIfe Begins at 40 