I’m opening this post with words of caution. Strong language, NSFW images, parental supervision advised. This geeky kitten is angry.
I have lamented on the topic of online dating for awhile, and now, I’m just angry. Today was the day that my last fuck was officially given. I AM OFFICIALLY OUT OF ONLINE DATING FUCKS.
When I “meet” someone, I try to be authentic. I want them to see me, so I’m going to be honest (“Sorry, not entirely comfortable giving you my name yet, here’s why!”), I’m going to call people on it if I’m feeling rushed or uncomfortable (“Can we stop with the sex talk, please?”) – basically I try to be a sweet, kind human online because I try to be a sweet, kind human IRL.
And then shit like this happens. Oh I’m sorry, KEEPS HAPPENING. We are going oldest to newest messages here, people. I have hidden screen names but not photos, because really – if you know this person, they deserve a smack and zero loving.
From my online profile. I received about 15 messages before this – at that point, I thanked him but told him that I didn’t think we were a good match.
After received a message from him, congratulating me on having “curves in all the right places”, this is what I saw when I opened his profile.
He messaged me about a week later, claimed his friend stole his phone, and when I didn’t answer THAT message, he wrote to tell me that I was likely too old for him, even though he did have a cougar fetish.
I’m 32. Am I considered a cougar now?
This, oh this. This is the final straw. This is opening of the anger door. This is the unleashing the Hulk.
We chatted, had a date. He’s an accountant, maybe. On our date, he told me that he actually wasn’t an accountant at the moment- he has the degree, but actually works as a carpenter. He told me about his father living in Penticton, and his mother in Vancouver, and we got along fairly well. Tonight, actually, would have been date 2.
But I am uncomfortable with lies. I’m not going to tell you my name, but I will tell you my first initial, and WHY I won’t tell you. Why bother lying about your career (and we are talking full bore- he told me about his work, told me about the company, gave me the amount he forecasts he will be making in 10 years, the entire thing)? So I mentioned that I was uncomfortable with the dishonesty. Then he tells me over text that, in fact, his father doesn’t live in Penticton, but in Edmonton – and that’s where my date lives. With his father, on an acreage, outside of the city.
Boom. Second and third lie. “But that’s it! I have been honest about every other thing!”
Too bad. I’m done. I tell him so, and then he proceeds to beg me – he’s crazy about me, he didn’t think that a good girl would go for him with his circumstances, he hates dishonesty too but he liked me so much- even going so far to offer to take me out for a nice meal (because we are both foodies) to make up for this little white lie.
My response to the meal offer is in green.
When in the hell did it become OK to treat other people this way? When did the lunatics become so normal that I can’t even see them? And on that note – am I also a lunatic for believing that, maybe, I might meet a normal human online? Or, the question I kind of hate myself for thinking – what’s the matter with me that I’m attracting these kind of people?!
I am so done. I am so angry, and so unjustifiably angry with factors I can’t control. I’m angry at these men for objectifying me. I’m angry for being blasted for being authentic. I’m angry because I thought I found my human, and had no desire to date ever again, and yet here I am. I’m angry because I’m searching for radical intimacy – the kind of intimacy that is cuddling and laughing and debating over big issues. The kind of intimacy found late at night under the covers or watching the sunrise on a beach or in the silence of the mountains. And, frankly, I’m starting to doubt that something like that exists in this city, which also makes me angry.
So. I’m done. Account is deleted. I’m going to take some time, and maybe shake down my friends for introductions later in the new year. But for now?
I’m done. My pissed off, bruised up, romantic heart is done with shit like this.