Shut up, everyone, about the end of courtship

What a splendidly hypocritical way for me to come back to the blogosphere. Scolding relationship/dating experts who are desperately seeking page views, shares and retweets. But this topic has been weighing on me for some time and I wanna talk about it, dammit.

I’m completely disheartened by all the hookup culture/end of courtship talk. I know I’ve been in a relationship for over a year so it may seem that all of this should matter little to me. Especially considering we didn’t have a real, take-me-out-to-dinner date until a few weeks into our romance. But it makes me sad to think that singles everywhere are being told to put aside any expectations they have about dating and put up with inconsiderate, non-committal behavior.

It seems to be a byproduct of the constant lectures about being too available to the people we’re attracted to combined with new technology, stunted maturity and media that portrays hookup-only dating as the norm. But I’m not sure it is the norm, just because Girls says it is.

Just as “we accept the love we think we deserve” the same goes for the initial stages of that love. And the dating life we deserve/want looks different from individual to individual so it’s really a matter of finding someone whose expectations align with your own. If you want to be wined, dined, pursued and made to feel special, that’s exactly what you should demand.

That doesn’t necessarily mean writing off someone the second they send you a text at 10 p.m. asking if you care to meet up with a group rather than the one-on-one date you’d prefer. It’s about communicating those preferences. It’s your job to make what you want clear to a prospective partner. It’s their job to step up and comply or step down and leave you open to find someone who can.

I know it’s never that simple. Lonely people make concessions they shouldn’t. Deviant people make promises they have no intention of ever keeping. But at least acknowledging that not everyone—male or female—desires to be a part of the hookup culture is a step in the right direction. There are no real norms in this world. Especially when it comes to dating. So it’s a mistake to think you have to accept something that makes you unhappy or uncomfortable just because it’s “the norm” according to some relationship trend piece in a publication that will denounce the trend a year from now in favor of more traditional dating norms. Because, you know, vintage!

The older I get (a year and a half from 30 so I’m basically as wise as I’ll ever be) the more I shake off the expectations and norms I’m supposed to embrace so I can focus on what’s going to make me happy, healthy and well adjusted. And buying into every shocking new fad that crosses my computer screen threatens that happiness more than anything. 

A Surprise Twist

The past few posts have been far too serious and actually kind of depressing so perhaps it’s time for a break. In the form of a humiliating tale about my complete inability to read guys. Doesn’t that sound like fun? I thought so.

It all began in the spring of 2011, that’s right kidlets this was months of complete obliviousness. I attended my lovely friend’s wedding and was taken by the tall, grinning groomsman. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you attend a wedding solo, fall in love with the wedding party. The only problem was he had a date who wasn’t really a date, but it seemed like enough of a date to make it difficult to make a move. That and I’m not smooth enough to make a move under even the most promising of circumstances, so the faux date was as good enough reason as any to be a complete pussy about it. I did manage to squeeze in a half dance, which was enough for me to decide that our wedding was undoubtedly going to be next.

Despite this undisputed conclusion, I departed that night with nothing to show for it. Not to fret, after I expressed my interest to the bride with a “squeeeeeeee” she assured me I would see him again at various gatherings she and her new husband would be hosting. There were housewarmings and holiday parties. But each time my efforts brought me no closer to my goal. Oh sure I’d flirt here and there and I’d get a flirt or two back. But no real progress was made.

I was about ready to throw in the towel when the perfect opportunity was presented. There would be a New Year’s party, hosted by the object of my affection (we’ll call him M to protect the innocent and disinterested). Where else would it be perfectly acceptable to kiss the object of your affection making your intentions fully known?

I had made plans to attend with the friend who made our love possible (L from this point forward) and a few others. But that was the one night Minnesota had decided she had been far too easy on us this winter and she would make up for it by spewing holiday-destroying flakes upon the roadways. This meant that L and her husband would not be making the trek to the party. I could see each layer of snow covering my visions of Jordan almonds and white doves.

But what good fortune! The others came through and agreed to accompany me to M’s party despite the fact that I would know only two people at what would amount to a high school class reunion for the others in attendance. We arrived and I immediately felt like Samantha Baker at the popular party. My friends and I mixed and mingled and it was all well and fine until Lauren (not the previously mentioned “L”) implored me to make a move on M, because what else was I here for?

Determined not to let Lauren down, I went for it. I flirted hard. It was a thing of beauty. He was reciprocating. It was magical like a ‘90s coming of age movie. I was Laney Boggs transformed…or something. There was one problem. He kept fracking disappearing. At first I thought it was because he was playing host. He would always return though, to flirt again. But eventually I was frustrated with the stalemate. So I sent L a text telling her that he was not succumbing to my womanly wiles and I was giving up.

On the way out the door I ran into a guy I never would have expected to see at this party. He had lived with an ex of mine in Mankato. I reintroduced myself and we bashed my ex for a bit before I asked how he had come to attend this event.

He replied simply “I’m dating M.”

It was a shock, but I kept my cool, because I am fly like that, “Oh? You are? That’s nice. He’s a good guy.”

“Yep he’s a keeper,” was his grinning reply and then I wanted to scratch his eyes out. Not really, but c’mon!

And then I bolted. I said goodbye to M, maintaining that suave demeanor until I was in my car. At that point I looked at Lauren and just said “SERIOUSLY!?” before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

This is not the first time I set my sights on someone with arguably ambiguous sexual orientation. But it was the first that I had put myself that far out there. I still hold he was knowingly giving me mixed signals. Playing with my fragile, nitwitted little heart. All just for kicks. Shame on you, M! But also shame on me, the next day I resolved to fine-tune my gaydar over the course of the next year. 

The Online Saga Part 4: The Land of 1001 First Dates

I’ve quickly come to realize the world of online dating is simply one in which first dates are handed out like urine mints in a classy restaurant. Just as in a bar setting, most individuals are willing to take an hour or two to get to know a stranger they consider at least somewhat attractive. Initially upon embarking on this online endeavor I considered that one (if not the only) benefit of online dating would be the ability to pre-screen my prospects and filter out the definite “no’s” before wasting time with the face-to-face step. And while this is valid on some level, I’m beginning to think the main difference between online dating and the bar scene seems to be more in volume rather than quality of match (also the sky is blue).

Essentially if you believe finding that elusive Mr. I’ve-Been-Waiting-For-You-All-My-Life is nothing more than a game of odds, you’ll never get more rolls of the dice than you do with eHarmOKMatch.com. I’ll admit, in the past, I’ve been skeptical of friends who had great difficulty moving beyond the first date in the online dating realm. I thought if you’ve already had many of those deal breakers and that initial conversation sorted out before the actual meeting, you’ve overcome half the battle.

I fear I may have been wrong (Le Gasp!). It turns out that people are not nearly as charming in real life as they are via the written word (Le Gasp Part Deux!). (This includes myself as well, given the fact that the one individual I still considered fairly promising after the first date never called, but that’s another story for another time.)

The first guy I met up with had induced a smile or two through our screening correspondence so I saw some potential promise in him. In person he had all the personality of his sister’s Labrador Retriever —the one who starred in 95 percent of his anecdotes for the evening. I’m pretty sure another gentleman I met was looking for a psychiatrist to explain why his family doesn’t want to spend any time with him. The conclusion I drew was that they got sick of him talking about nothing other than how awesome it was to ride bike all day every day. Especially since he did so in the voice of Foghorn Leghorn. I must also note that I use the term “gentleman” very loosely as we split the bill right down the middle despite the fact that he ordered two drinks and one espresso more than I had.

The first date I had this past weekend may turn into a second. I’m not entirely sure that I’m feeling it, but I am considering it if just to break the cycle. Also, he didn’t talk like a cartoon chicken and only had one story about a dog he didn’t own, so that’s promising.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised at my findings. Meeting someone based on a profile they’ve (in some cases) carefully put together for the sole purpose of attracting a match is obviously not going yield the most genuine results. Not to mention there is no way to convey that funny, butterfly chemistry that inexplicably happens when two people just click. Because I still believe in that dammit! Fun fact, I also believe in unicorns and the moon landing. 

The Relationship Paradox of the Little Bit Wicked

I recently finished reading “A Little Bit Wicked: Life, Love and Faith in Stages”, the Kristin Chenoweth memoir. I honestly picked it up because I wanted something fluffy and light to pass a weekend stranded indoors due to the Midwestern Snowmageddon of 2010, but I was surprised by how much I could relate to the content. In addition to being a petite sprite with a fantastic rack (ok, only half of that is relatable), she is a dyed-in-the-wool Christian who perpetually struggles with the duplicity of her nature especially in terms of love. She loves her some Jesus, but can’t escape the draw of the witty intellectual whom she has aptly dubbed Mr. If Loving You Is Wrong I Don’t Want To Be Right.

I know many women face this issue of being attracted to the wrong guy, but in my attempts to lead a life befitting of my belief system I find myself in a more twisted quagmire than most. I have a friend whose faith and oddly subversive bent mirror my own and she encounters the same issues.  For those who walk that straight and narrow with limited curiosity for what lies outside the path before them, settling down with the straight-laced Christian guy and making oodles of straight-laced Christian babies is so natural that it’s easy to slip into that role and fall for the perfectly nice guy. And those unrestrained by conventional religious moral codes can embrace that somewhat dark side of their psyche and fall unabashedly in love with Mr. Wrong without being a hypocrite.

I think something went wrong when I was created. Perhaps I was supposed to be twins. One twin destined to be the good little angel who is elated to settle down with a bore as long as he was a good provider with a strong faith. The other a rebellious child who completely rejects what she is supposed to want and gladly embraces the tenebrous elements of her nature. I keep telling myself that this friend and I cannot be the only people on the planet to feel this way and we certainly can’t be an exclusively female species, because that’s just cruel.

My outlook on this situation of mine has been worsened by Christian guys who have misused faith as a way to control me, to the point where it has stifled that part of me that doesn’t quite fit into the 700 Club mold. I’m not saying I’m an uncontrollable, unrepentant hellion, but you’d be surprised what guys with corrupt “Christian” views will construe as sinful.

Even amongst those who have their head on straight and their faith figured out, I struggle to find someone who sparks my interest. I need someone with an edge. I don’t necessarily seek someone who is naughty, but I’d appreciate if he could be and just chose not to act on it. Guys who don’t have a wicked bone in their body are boring and those who have an entirely wicked skeleton are dangerous. I long for someone with a vexatious femur. I know that seems insane to a normal, rational human being. And it probably is; therein lies my dilemma, I may be certifiable.

As much as I battle with the oxymoron that is my proverbial type, I don’t want to change that inconsistency of my nature. That inconsistency isn’t sinful and it’s one of my most unique characteristics. Why would I want to alter something that is so undeniably me, even if it would make the path to Mr. Loving You Is Just the Right Amount of Wrong less treacherous and a heck of a lot shorter?

I don’t mean for this to be a self-indulgent, woe-is-me-I’m-so-misunderstood post, though it certainly sounds that way. Maybe I’m just seeking validation. Am I crazy? Or is what I’m looking for actually in existence somewhere?

Love After College

Dating in academic situations is conveniently built in as though it is on par with Spanish club or debate team. It’s essentially an expected extracurricular activity that all students partake in. As a result, many people find their life-long (in theory) partners at college or during the college years. I don’t know the figures, but I’m willing to bet this is especially true of institutions where the M.R.S. is lauded as one of their top degrees.

After you turn that tassel over, the whole dating ritual seems to become exponentially more difficult. No longer are you in an environment where it is expected that nearly everyone is single and ready to mingle. You now find yourself having to navigate through murky waters of the married, engaged, divorced, in addition to weeding out the disinterested from the interested. And you have to do this in places and situations you would rather not disclose to any future children.

As much as alcohol is associated with college, the dating scene in the world of academia doesn’t rely solely on the lubrication of liquor the way budding romance does outside of the university. The social nature of college made it easy to get to know potential Prince Charmings in respectable situations (e.g. class) where you have the opportunity to interact with cute individuals on a consistent basis before making a move toward the romantic, rather than a seedy bar where you have, at most, a couple hours to make a quasi-positive impression on someone you can barely hear above the sound of crappy top-forty music.

Additionally, college interaction allows you to naturally build on common interests based on where you meet. You met in a Constitutional History class, so you know you share an interest in political science as it relates to the Founding Fathers. You meet at a frat/sorority party so you know you share an interest in douchey attire, organized friendships, copious amounts of alcohol and promiscuity. After college, you meet at a bar, so you know you both like….to drink socially (instant soul mates!).

It’s no wonder more singles are turning to the Internet. Though the stigma still remains to some degree, it undoubtedly provides those easy situations where you know that the person is single (one would hope), interested in dating, and shares interests similar to your own. I still can’t bring myself to release my dream of meeting someone organically, so I’ve yet to hop on the e-dating train, but it hasn’t been ruled out.

I know I’m not the only one struggling with this. I’ve had numerous discussions with friends about the foregone opportunity of meeting “the one” in college. Unfortunately, we can’t just go back to school to recreate the perfect dating circumstances. We have to accept and embrace where we are and realize the benefits of dating after we’ve left the ivy covered halls.

Most of us are now in a position in our lives where we have begun careers and found cities we would like to call home. We can find someone who fits nicely into the world we’ve built without having to worry about building a world around someone you met while you were both just learning what you expected of your future. Plus, you have the benefit of knowing what you are getting into when you date someone who has already chosen a career/life path. In college you could start dating someone who has grand ambitions, but after they graduate they may suddenly decide they want to denounce all they had aspired to be and live in a van by the river because the real world is just too hard.

As the Clock Winds Down, Pickings Grow Slim

I had lunch with a friend the other day and she impressed upon me the urgency of “settling down” because we weren’t getting any younger and soon all the good ones were going to be taken. I quipped that I’d get my shot at a good one on the next round after the divorces. In all honesty, I was slightly taken aback and even a little offended by the comment. Does the fact that I’m not married mean that not only have a passed up the opportunity to find a good man, but I, myself, am not included in the good batch because if I were, I would be snapped up already? At 25 I hardly feel that I’m at an age where I’ve been completely passed over in the marriage department.

I prefer to think that it’s the complete opposite. Perhaps settling down quickly and early is more settling than anything. Lucy Maud Montgomery once said that young marriage is a sure indication of second-rate goods that had to be sold off in a hurry. Rather than take a chance at finding true happiness, individuals just take what they can get when they get it.

It’s true that the dating field shrinks as we get older and people get married, but I’ve interacted with a number of married men who certainly don’t strike me as the pick of the litter. Maybe the good ones are more selective, maybe they are taking the time to become the individuals they want and need to be to contribute all that they can to a lasting, worthwhile marriage.

I’m not saying people can’t find the love of their life at a young age, I’ve touched on this before, some people are incredibly fortunate in this realm, but I think the majority of people need time to mature and become a complete person before getting married. I also think that this maturation has slowed for many people, the college years are prolonged by four-year degrees that are drawn out to five, six or seven years.

So although the selection is shrinking as we age, in some cases it may be getting better as some of the duds are being weeded out as they head down the aisle. There aren’t many people who wish they had gotten married at an earlier age, and even fewer who wish this for the sole reason that if they had, they wouldn’t have missed out on some fantastic catch that they haven’t met yet.

I personally don’t regret not marrying any of my past boyfriends. They would have been my only ticket to a younger marriage, and if those are my only options, I’d rather settle comfortably into my role as an old maid.