The idea of "dating" has never appealed to me. Dating means explicitly that you are LOOKing for someone with whom you are compatible. That, in and of itself, to me seems somewhat ludicrous. And if not ludicrous, at the very least completely frightening. What do you LOOK for, anyway?
My most successful relationships simply happened--and they never started with a date. In fact, the date happened after the connection had already been found: when we existed in certain shared circles and both laughed at the same things, or found ourselves absorbed in a conversation that surprised both of us, or happened to find one another out somewhere and enjoyed one another's company more than we enjoyed the people we had gone there to meet in the first place. So "my way" has always been to meet someone and then click--and THEN go out on a "date." Now truth be told, this has actually only happened me a few times. I am not a relationship or dating expert and most of my relationships have been long term--so the first date and "dating" have never been awkward. They've been exciting, because something in my heart has already known that this person is right for me and interesting to me in some way.
How have I known that? Again, it's the connection that isn't forged by some set of similarities. It's forged by a compelling interest in the way the other person communicates and approaches the world. It's forged by the light in someone's eyes and the things that inspire it. It's forged by the way a person might understand you in a way that is uncanny and unique. And it's almost never planned. You just find yourself not ready to leave the individual you just met and wanting to see them again. And THEN you date.
Some years ago some individual decided that a connection between two people can be quantified; that it's based on a data-driven set of preferences and compatibilities. The world turned and began to accommodate itself to today's working professionals who don't want to "waste time" trying to FIND the right person and instead wanted someone else (or some computer program) to do it for them. Now, being a psychology major, I have always found truth in personality profiles and character inventories. I love completing those questionnaires because of what they can reveal about me and the insight they can give me into my own heart. Do they tell me anything I didn't already know? Not necessarily. They often just articulate it better than I ever thought I could, and so I decided to give an online dating program a try.
Like any other single person, I was excited at first when the "matches" started rolling in. It was like walking into a store and...
Wait a second.
What am I looking at again? Or what am I looking FOR, again? A person? An individual? A LOVE?
And it's like walking into a STORE?
Yes, it's like walking into a store. And we (meaning all the single people who are clueless about how to find the next love of our lives) sit and wait on shelves until someone reads about us and finds us (based on a few pictures--that just happen to be floating around your computer that you actually have the technological wherewithal to select and load and crop correctly--and a few answers to questions like "Aside from your parents, who has most influenced you?" and "What's the last book you read and enjoyed?" and "What's the first thing that people notice about you?") interesting enough to invite to "conversation." These "conversations" are then based on a couple of pre-programmed questions that apparently we're not intelligent enough to form ourselves and answers where the number of "characters" we can use to express ourselves is frustratingly limited. If we single people are actually able to manipulate the system enough to actually be able to pique someone's curiosity with our pictures, questions, and responses, (and, in some awful cases...LIES) perhaps we'll be able to engage in an email conversation. And then we might put ourselves out there enough to actually arrange a meeting--where we both show up hoping beyond hope that our expectations will be met, that we will not regret the intimate answers we've already given to someone we don't know at all, and that we will connect with well enough that we will not leave in fear--either of the person never calling, of the person calling too much, or of needing to break a person's heart because we had really (based on a few pictures and a few contrived questions and limited responses) expected something or someone different than the person who actually arrived at the table.
This brand of "dating" is not for me.
It's like dating on steroids. People have lost their minds! It's like a mad rush for the "best deal." And if you're the one who's rushing, it's disheartening if you get there (to the questions) and your desired "purchase" is already gone. Or, if you're the one being shopped after...sometimes you just wish people would slow down and curb the intensity...you'll get to them, eventually. Maybe.
I went on one date with a man from this dating service. Honestly, the guy is very kind and there is a possibility that things could potentially develop with him. But even this date with this very interesting professional drove us each to temporary lapses in "cool" behavior. I found myself thinking "Oh God! Did I answer that question correctly?" each time he looked down at his napkin. He found himself asking questions like "So...how soon should we see each other again?" To the first: There IS no correct answer to these questions. In a more organic meeting environment the answers would be cause for intrigue or just the choice to develop a friendship or something more--not to determine whether or not a person is worth ANY investment whatsoever. And to the second? How soon SHOULD we see each other again? I wanted to say "You mean, there's a right way to do this? How about we just depart, go our separate ways, and call each other if the mood strikes?" Why does it need to be so HARD?
Because with an online site there's money involved and the number of "options" the site throws at you is completely ridiculous. And you have to ask yourself? Do I keep shopping? My subscription is going to expire soon. Do I take myself off the shelf? Are you really going to buy me, and like me, and not return me?
Yes, it really is like that.
So the dating service is not for me. I'm not saying that it doesn't work for people, because I know that it has and that it can and that it does. But I don't belong on this shelf where I worry about the answers to my questions and get frustrated by what I can and cannot say. Where I am being judged by an image I just happen to have on my computer and am forced to do the same to countless others. I think I need to go back to "dating" my way--where the first "date" happens actually after I've met you, where you don't know anything about who's inspired me or what books I like to read or what OTHERS first notice about me. Where I find out how important a man's iPhone is by how much he takes it out when I'm talking to him (not because he's already mentioned that it's something he couldn't live without), and I find out how much he loves his family by the light in his eyes when he speaks of them. Where I'm not disqualifying someone because of how they articulate their feelings about religion or by the icon that indicates how much they drink.
But I have learned something about myself. I am actually different than the others who frequent this site and the differences are attractive. I have also learned that the person who will fall in love with me is not likely to discover my true value if I live in my pajamas on my porch and that when I do allow myself to leave it that I clean up pretty nice.
So I've given it a try. A good try. But I don't think that compatibility starts with what is quantifiable. And if I can take the time I've devoted to sorting out all the choices on this site and devote it to being more active and out there in the world? Perhaps I will actually meet someone. And THEN, perhaps we'll date.
My most successful relationships simply happened--and they never started with a date. In fact, the date happened after the connection had already been found: when we existed in certain shared circles and both laughed at the same things, or found ourselves absorbed in a conversation that surprised both of us, or happened to find one another out somewhere and enjoyed one another's company more than we enjoyed the people we had gone there to meet in the first place. So "my way" has always been to meet someone and then click--and THEN go out on a "date." Now truth be told, this has actually only happened me a few times. I am not a relationship or dating expert and most of my relationships have been long term--so the first date and "dating" have never been awkward. They've been exciting, because something in my heart has already known that this person is right for me and interesting to me in some way.
How have I known that? Again, it's the connection that isn't forged by some set of similarities. It's forged by a compelling interest in the way the other person communicates and approaches the world. It's forged by the light in someone's eyes and the things that inspire it. It's forged by the way a person might understand you in a way that is uncanny and unique. And it's almost never planned. You just find yourself not ready to leave the individual you just met and wanting to see them again. And THEN you date.
Some years ago some individual decided that a connection between two people can be quantified; that it's based on a data-driven set of preferences and compatibilities. The world turned and began to accommodate itself to today's working professionals who don't want to "waste time" trying to FIND the right person and instead wanted someone else (or some computer program) to do it for them. Now, being a psychology major, I have always found truth in personality profiles and character inventories. I love completing those questionnaires because of what they can reveal about me and the insight they can give me into my own heart. Do they tell me anything I didn't already know? Not necessarily. They often just articulate it better than I ever thought I could, and so I decided to give an online dating program a try.
Like any other single person, I was excited at first when the "matches" started rolling in. It was like walking into a store and...
Wait a second.
What am I looking at again? Or what am I looking FOR, again? A person? An individual? A LOVE?
And it's like walking into a STORE?
Yes, it's like walking into a store. And we (meaning all the single people who are clueless about how to find the next love of our lives) sit and wait on shelves until someone reads about us and finds us (based on a few pictures--that just happen to be floating around your computer that you actually have the technological wherewithal to select and load and crop correctly--and a few answers to questions like "Aside from your parents, who has most influenced you?" and "What's the last book you read and enjoyed?" and "What's the first thing that people notice about you?") interesting enough to invite to "conversation." These "conversations" are then based on a couple of pre-programmed questions that apparently we're not intelligent enough to form ourselves and answers where the number of "characters" we can use to express ourselves is frustratingly limited. If we single people are actually able to manipulate the system enough to actually be able to pique someone's curiosity with our pictures, questions, and responses, (and, in some awful cases...LIES) perhaps we'll be able to engage in an email conversation. And then we might put ourselves out there enough to actually arrange a meeting--where we both show up hoping beyond hope that our expectations will be met, that we will not regret the intimate answers we've already given to someone we don't know at all, and that we will connect with well enough that we will not leave in fear--either of the person never calling, of the person calling too much, or of needing to break a person's heart because we had really (based on a few pictures and a few contrived questions and limited responses) expected something or someone different than the person who actually arrived at the table.
This brand of "dating" is not for me.
It's like dating on steroids. People have lost their minds! It's like a mad rush for the "best deal." And if you're the one who's rushing, it's disheartening if you get there (to the questions) and your desired "purchase" is already gone. Or, if you're the one being shopped after...sometimes you just wish people would slow down and curb the intensity...you'll get to them, eventually. Maybe.
I went on one date with a man from this dating service. Honestly, the guy is very kind and there is a possibility that things could potentially develop with him. But even this date with this very interesting professional drove us each to temporary lapses in "cool" behavior. I found myself thinking "Oh God! Did I answer that question correctly?" each time he looked down at his napkin. He found himself asking questions like "So...how soon should we see each other again?" To the first: There IS no correct answer to these questions. In a more organic meeting environment the answers would be cause for intrigue or just the choice to develop a friendship or something more--not to determine whether or not a person is worth ANY investment whatsoever. And to the second? How soon SHOULD we see each other again? I wanted to say "You mean, there's a right way to do this? How about we just depart, go our separate ways, and call each other if the mood strikes?" Why does it need to be so HARD?
Because with an online site there's money involved and the number of "options" the site throws at you is completely ridiculous. And you have to ask yourself? Do I keep shopping? My subscription is going to expire soon. Do I take myself off the shelf? Are you really going to buy me, and like me, and not return me?
Yes, it really is like that.
So the dating service is not for me. I'm not saying that it doesn't work for people, because I know that it has and that it can and that it does. But I don't belong on this shelf where I worry about the answers to my questions and get frustrated by what I can and cannot say. Where I am being judged by an image I just happen to have on my computer and am forced to do the same to countless others. I think I need to go back to "dating" my way--where the first "date" happens actually after I've met you, where you don't know anything about who's inspired me or what books I like to read or what OTHERS first notice about me. Where I find out how important a man's iPhone is by how much he takes it out when I'm talking to him (not because he's already mentioned that it's something he couldn't live without), and I find out how much he loves his family by the light in his eyes when he speaks of them. Where I'm not disqualifying someone because of how they articulate their feelings about religion or by the icon that indicates how much they drink.
But I have learned something about myself. I am actually different than the others who frequent this site and the differences are attractive. I have also learned that the person who will fall in love with me is not likely to discover my true value if I live in my pajamas on my porch and that when I do allow myself to leave it that I clean up pretty nice.
So I've given it a try. A good try. But I don't think that compatibility starts with what is quantifiable. And if I can take the time I've devoted to sorting out all the choices on this site and devote it to being more active and out there in the world? Perhaps I will actually meet someone. And THEN, perhaps we'll date.
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