While
sitting around with my lunch bunch at school one day, my friend
Emma and I were
discussing why it’s so hard to meet guys. “We work with all women.” “All the
church boys we know are our brothers/best friends.” “We don’t want to get hit
on in bars.” Also, for the sake of transparency, there is a lot of hesitation
when it comes to dating. It’s scary, and if you’re fearful (like myself), then
why pursue something you’re afraid of?
A few weeks
after that conversation I went to Emma’s classroom and I pitched the idea of doing
an experiment to join an online dating site. Just for the summer. It could be
an opportunity to put ourselves out there, slowly begin taking down bricks from the wall, and maybe meet someone.
Emma was just as hesitant as I was, but by the end of the day she had texted me
a coupon code and boom, we joined match.com for three months and were embarking on our "Summer of Adventure".
After
punching in our credit card numbers and not reading the Terms and Conditions
agreement form, we had logged on. Thus began my (almost) three month journey on
what would be the strangest online experience I’ve ever had.
Creating
your profile is enormously complicated. Trying to write about why someone
should date you is incredibly awkward. Do I mention that I like reading? Does
that make me sound nerdy? Do guys like smart girls? Well I like smart guys, so
yes, I’ll write that I like reading. Do I say that I like music? I mean,
everyone likes music, but do I have to say it? Do I list the bands that I like?
That can be overwhelming and the site only gives me 400 characters in this box
and there’s no way I can condense what music I like in that amount of space. Do I mention my laugh? Oh well, he'll find out. Then I have to pick a photo. Oh gosh. Fine, whatever my facebook profile
picture is. Oh, select a few more. Fine. Top five facebook photos. This is
weird. After spending about five hours going back and forth over what I had
written about myself I just threw my hands in the air and said “screw it”. I
can change it later and I’m overthinking it anyways.
I had
certain boundaries set on the kind of guy I wanted to date: 25-37, Christian, lives
within 20 miles of my zip code, likes reading and music, must have a sense of
humor, must be kind. Little did I know that this guy is an anomaly on
match.com.
Now I must
begin looking at guys. Talk about being overwhelmed. So. Many. Guys. I read
every profile I could the first few weeks. And it felt awkward. Almost like
online shopping for a date. After the newness of joining the site, it started
to feel a little creepy.
Wait, I can
“wink” at a guy? Based on my experience, this is the first step in starting a
conversation with a guy. At first, it was liberating. I can be outgoing and
click a button and let a guy know I’m interested without being afraid of
rejection. I don’t know him and he certainly doesn’t know me. You’ve both
winked at each other so now what? Well, I can “favorite” a guy. This is when
you’ve read their profile, are interested in pursuing something further than
just “hey, you’re cute”. “Favoriting” a guy is exceedingly nerve-wracking. How
can I favorite him?! I don’t really know them. They wrote a few well crafted
paragraphs, that’s it. Then comes emailing. That’s the real test. I’ll come
back to the messaging portion of my summer adventure in a moment.
But here’s the
reality: not a lot of guys fit what I’m looking for. Too young. No job. Not
Christian. Too old. You’ve misspelled every other word in your profile. Why are
there photos of you with girls on your profile? Is that a dead deer in the
background? One of your profile pictures is your origami dinosaur collection.
Nine out of your 10 profile pictures is you posturing without a shirt on, and
newsflash, I’m not into that.
Then there
were the guys who were already a “no”, but then they decided to push themselves
into the “even if the fate of the human race was in my hands the answer is
‘no’ ” category. Keep in mind, these are direct quotes from various guys who
messaged me on match.com.
“I love your
red lips.” Umm, you don’t know me. Please don’t.
“Do you wear
80’s clothes? I love 80’s clothes.” What is happening?
“Do you like
guys with earrings? I’m wearing a cross, dangly earring right now.” Stop.
“I live 250
miles away, let’s meet halfway.” Uhh…
“I know I’m
62, but I’m looking for a young love.” Why did I do this again?
“I’m looking
for my princess, are you her?” Nope.
“I don’t
want to date anyone with man hands.” I think I’m good.
“Id lick to
trad numberz and git ta no u.” It pains me to read this.
“I just want
to come and save you.” Umm, I don’t need to be saved, especially by you.
And there are
others that spiral more and more into tasteless and slightly bizarre.
After two
and half months, I officially cancelled my three month subscription. But I
didn’t do so lightly. I didn’t like the idea of online dating because it didn’t
seem organic, but it’s 2014 and I know several success stories from online
dating. I know that if I stayed with online dating over the course of a year,
then the likelihood of me meeting someone is higher. I just don’t have the
money to pour into another nine months of online dating and I just began to
feel uncomfortable spending my already limited amount of money on something
that I didn’t enjoy.
Attempting
to wade through the nonsense and awkward emails from guys, I learned a lot
about myself. I know what I want, and don’t want, and I’m not afraid to
vocalize that. I learned that I’m worthy of waiting for someone who actually is
interested in me, not the best version of myself that is presented in a dating
profile, a facebook profile, a twitter account, or an Instagram photo. I
thought I already knew that a guy being a Christian is important to me, but I
learned that if he’s not one, then it’s actually a deal breaker for me. I
learned that it’s ok to be complimented and it’s ok to accept a compliment. I also learned that I prefer to meet someone through a friend, or at a
bookstore, or at a music show. That seems the most comfortable for me. Do I
think I could meet someone somewhere else, in another way? Sure. Am I willing
to try it? Sure. Will I do online dating again? Right now, no.
I had high expectations
for the summer. I expected to push myself, perhaps meet someone, and gain some
confidence. And I met some of those expectations. I am still pursuing those goals,
but this time, I don’t want to sit behind a computer and do it.
