I’m so bad at this part, I know it: dating communication gaps. I do a good job of leaving my anxiety where it belongs – on this blog and with my close girlfriends – but it exists and it drives me bananas. It’s not logical, it’s not really reflective of how I think about things, but it’s definitely a deep-seated trigger. I’m reading about attachment styles to understand it better.
A new commenter said – unfairly, in my opinion – that things are always the man’s fault with me. This is a case where I would argue Gregory has done nothing wrong. We’ve had one date and a bunch of communication since. He doesn’t have to reach out every day and I would never request it at this point. Hell, if there’s one thing I understand, it’s being busy.
But it doesn’t change the fact that a gap in communication triggers me.
I was admittedly a little concerned I hadn’t heard back from Gregory. I know some people tend to reduce their communication pace after a date is booked, but to not reply to a text at all? While I told myself everything was fine, the cynical I’ve-had-the-worst-luck part of me was stomping her mental foot deep down. I wasn’t sure if this Tinder date was going to happen.
But my burner app had been flaking out and I’d been receiving sorry-the-server-is-down notifications, so I suspected it was that. I didn’t want to text again on the burner app, since if it didn’t work the first time there was no guarantee it would work the second.
Along with the other dating sites, I hid my Tinder profile over three weeks ago. I was having enough of a hard time dealing with the men I already had in the mix; I didn’t need any new applicants. I figured I’d work my way through the ones I was already talking to and then decide whether to unhide the accounts again.
So last Monday, I was surprised when my phone pinged with a Tinder notice: “You have a new match!”
A reminder, you can always check out my “men in the mix” page to get the latest on the men I’m writing about. It’s all spoilers, all the time!
John drove me home, we parked his car and I invited him into my house. In my kitchen, as I poured him a drink, he went for it. Arms around me, mouth on the back of my neck, pushing me up against my kitchen counter.
I discovered this man in his late 50s had the libido of a 20-year-old. We got pretty heated on my main floor and I decided what the hell, I’d take him upstairs. Continue reading →
Bryon and his family’s’ social media accounts showed a very affluent family. He lived the places he said he did. There were pictures of his wife and him together, with and without their adult children, but nothing since year-end 2016.
The conclusion I drew was he perhaps was single, perhaps, but there is no way he’d been split for six years unless they had an unconventional relationship. And if that was the case, if he was actually seeking a new relationship he would be smart enough to say “yes my ex and I are very close, we still do things together blah blah.”
It occurred to me much later that he was so arrogant he didn’t think he needed to do so. He didn’t think anyone would check out his family’s profiles or didn’t care what it showed if they did. Perhaps most women didn’t see the red flags or were blinded by his luxury lifestyle and fancy parties. Continue reading →
“For you, who is gentle on my mind, but too hot to handle at times. Please never change, because you are beautiful. Good luck and safe trip, and remember all of our good times. Love, Rick. 7/31/69, Hawaii.
P.S. Remember the steaks and ice cream, because they make you sweet (smile).”
Did you notice the date? It’s not a typo: 1969. Those words, written in red looping cursive script, were for my mother. They are on the back of a vinyl record which accompanied her back to the mainland from Hawaii, Glen Campbell’s “Gentle on My Mind”. She got rid of the ABBA and the classical albums long ago, but a precious few remained packed away until her recent move. Continue reading →
Yes. I’m embarrassed to say, but I was catfished. It was only for a 24-hour period, but still. I don’t like making those kinds of mistakes. Well, I don’t like making any mistakes at all, but I’m getting far more comfortable with the large number of romantic mistakes I’ve made and will keep making.
The short duration of our exchange hid some of the red flags. And he was very clever.
Like the last one, his pictures were real. They seemed current. He was in his mid-fifties. He had filled out many questions on OK Cupid and had a full descriptive profile. We had a 95% match percentage.
A couple of days of texting later, I asked whether he wanted to meet for a coffee or drink. He said yes, but he didn’t “really know” where I was. When I said my precise location didn’t matter, he called me “miss spy”. We made plans to meet after work that Friday, and our texting for the next day was perfectly normal.
That was Tuesday.
He didn’t text again.
On Saturday, the day after our supposed date, I texted “what happened to us going out yesterday after work” and he replied the next day “I don’t know, I never heard back you disappeared for two days.” He said he wanted to try again. Continue reading →
This may need a new dating term – someone who uses their actual pictures, but who lies about their purpose for being online. They may actually be single as they profess, but they aren’t seeking dating or a relationship. Here’s another story of my being catfished.
The only thing they want is to get off on pictures and a sexually-charged chat.
Some may be willing to speak on the phone, but most aren’t. Some are very clever at how they present and interact, and it’s hard to realize they are not-quite-catfish.