After minimal hours of sleep and a strong cup of coffee by my side, I clocked in at my new full-time job: cultivating a love connection on OkCupid. It required the labor intensive tasks of sorting though and scrutinizing profiles and quiver connections to see if anyone peaked my interest or titillated my ego.
In my experience, on-line dating seems to be populated with guys who aren't really looking for a “love” connection, even if they claim to be. What they’re really looking for is sex. But who can blame them? They’ve got an entire database of equally desperate and horny women ready to raise their skirts at the mere flattery of a virtual wink.
At this point, I didn’t care if I’d be meeting him for the first time dressed in some matchy-matchy Lululemon get-up, with my hair in a ponytail and still sweating from my Redcord class. Oh, I’d be sure to look “effortlessly cute”, mind you, but I wasn’t gonna invest any real time and energy in trying to impress my “imaginary boyfriend” with a fab outfit and a cute hairdo. Nope, I planned on being just cute enough to make him curious...
So, where was this great new love or series of lovers to be found? I swear I was keeping my eyes, heart and mind open to possibility. I even reinvigorated my OkCupid profile and decided to be less picky. Even if a guy didn’t seem my type physically, I gave him bonus points for similar interests plus good grammar and spelling. Then maybe, just maybe, I could overlook the man boobs and receding hairlines.
I think I'm having a mid-life SEX crisis! I'm forty-two years old, divorced and haven't had anything other than a self-induced orgasm in four years. I can't believe it myself! Never in a million, gazillion years would I have predicted this! How is this my life? Granted, Post Marital Stress Disorder (PMSD) is partially to blame.
Okay, Keex, enough of the DRAMA! So what if OkCupid dude disappeared like poof? And so what if his dating profile is still active minus the two photos which he curiously deleted? And who cares if, after test driving me for two months, he possibly picked a different chick but still prowls on the down low in case he wants to upgrade? In the end, I was disappointed but not devastated.
As if my single and celibate self wasn't already consumed with enough thoughts of sex. But since availing myself to the world of dating, copulation feels imminent and fantasy has begun disrupting my general productivity. So has a discreet little vibrating toy I picked up at Babeland.
I don't know if it's age and maturity or shear fear, but I realize that I'm far more cautious in my approach to dating than I was in my twenties. That was the last time I was single. Back then I was so easily lured by looks and raw physical attraction that I was pretty reckless with my heart and my body; not thinking of the emotional consequences of giving too much or giving it up too quickly to someone not worthy of me.
Drunk with insomnia and perhaps better judgment, I took the plunge and dove headfirst into the 21st century trend of on-line dating. For someone who hasn't even been on a date in ten years, this was a completely new and bizarre approach to flirting, dating and perhaps finding a love connection.
So, now that I'm officially divorced (three years later) and still dealing with the emotional, legal and financial ramifications, I find myself questioning my belief in marriage. Divorce has been a big reality check. It's reminded me that, as much as my marriage was a public declaration of my love and commitment to my EX, it was just as much a business deal.
