Dating? I think I'll let it go ... for now

“I’m never dating again.” I really hope that sentence doesn’t bite my butt, especially since I used the word 'never' in it. Never usually equates to fate tossing her head back, laughter bubbling out of her — small giggles building to a crescendo of deep belly laughs, laughter not meant to taunt but meant to teach exactly just who the goddess is in my life. Not me.

But I still said it — well, typed it — in a written conversation with two heart sisters. Two of us are single, by separation and widowhood, and one is blissfully married — a long-term marriage. Guess which one thinks I should date. I’ll give you a clue: it’s not the other single one.

The conversation started innocently enough. I laughingly captured a screenshot of the ads for dating apps that have begun to spring up on a social media feed. I think they are appearing because I’ve been having multiple conversations with another close friend who’s in the first steps of dating, listening to her and offering advice, support and love. And my damn smartphone listened in and now thinks that I, too, want to date and is helping me out by placing ads on my timeline. Jerk.

I sent the screenshot of a dating app to my two beauties bemoaning that I was getting ads and that they were for men my age.

“I don’t want to date men my age,” I griped. “Men my age are settled. They have no sense of adventure,” I lamented. “At least show me ads for younger men, men who still want to go out and live." And this attempt at a joke — me dating — was not met with the humour I thought I had injected. It was met with all kinds of reasons why I should date. There was even an offer to send candidates to an upcoming burlesque class I’m starting. I thought I’d maybe stop the conversation by asking them to list what they thought I’d be looking for in a male I’d be interested in and, damn it, they nailed it. So, to shut the conversation down, I had to resort to promising not to shut the door.

These are two of the women who have been in my life for many years. Their unwavering support, especially these last three years, has been life-saving. They know the love I will always have for My Favourite Husband (MFH), they know the love I have for myself and they know that I’m capable of loving again if I so desire. They lived through my confusing and muddy attempt at “dating ... not dating” and my brief foray into the world of online dating. They know me. They know my heart. They know what I’m capable of. They smoothed the situation over by telling me “the only rules were the ones that I set." I did not buy it.

It’s been a couple days since that conversation and I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on why I made the statement I did. I came up with the usual reasons: I don’t want to share my time, the material things I have. I don’t have the energy to pursue something. I like my life the way it is now and don’t want it to change. All very valid reasons for the status quo.

But then I dug a little deeper, got a bit more uncomfortable and discovered the biggest reason: 

I’ve protected myself to the point that I’m frozen inside when it comes to romantic entanglements in any form. I mean, I’m capable of love — the friends who are family, my family that’s family — I love them deeply. But the last two romantic entanglements have left me frozen to prevent a repeat performance.

The first is the death of MFH. Death. There could not be a more permanent ending. I loved fiercely. I grieved fiercely. And though my grief usually travels in a gentler vein these days why love only to have that pain of grief again? 

The second is a bit trickier. I had a brief muddy, confusing relationship with someone who, I feel, didn’t value me as much as he should’ve. Things were generally at his convenience, conversations generally about him. The situation ended and a friendship was unsalvageable. I don’t mourn the loss of him in my life but hindsight reflections of how I was treated have left an impression. It took quite awhile to make sure the only feeling I have for him is indifference (it is) but the life lesson is imprinted in me and that also adds to the frozen state my heart is in.

I don’t want to get hurt. I’m old enough and smart enough to know that life holds very few guarantees. I’m old enough and smart enough to know to take risks, to make a leap, to go on the adventures. I’ve learned so much about me, who I am and maybe who I’ll continue to grow into. I’m open to it all — the risks, the rewards, the highs and lows.

But in romantic love, I will continue to remain frozen. I’m just not there. And I’m pretty sure I’ll never date again.