Hapless Helpless Hopeless Dater
So … what brought me to this point? What great life tragedy led me to assuming a new identity as the cape-wearing superhero single girl bad-ass, “Miss-Adventures”? Well, I wasn’t bit by a radioactive spider or born on an alien planet and adopted by kind Midwest earthlings, dear readers. Six months ago, my wife and I decided to divorce. After seven years of coupledom, we swallowed our pride, admitted to ourselves and to each other that we had just grown apart. Over time, we just lost our passion for one another and our love developed into something comfortable, (mostly) easy and predictable. It was akin to wearing a pair of your favorite old flannel pajamas: we were kept warm and cozy but had absolutely no lust or fire.
That is not to say that it was easy breaking up after seven years together, despite falling out of love. I felt hurt, disappointed, lonely and scared. I had just been through what felt like a goddamned war with the one person who was supposed to protect my ass in the foxhole. It sucked. But truth be told, my relationship with my ex-wife is better now than it has been in YEARS. Splitting up was perhaps the best decision that we could have ever made as a couple.
Here’s the secret to a great divorce: maintain your fucking dignity. Behave like a grown-up. Act with integrity. Don’t squabble over who gets the “stuff”. Try your best to not let toxic words fall from your lips unfiltered and uncensored because you can’t EVER take that shit back. If you can both follow those few steps, I believe you too can Bruce-and-Demi your way into a beautiful divorce.
My ex-wife is fucking rad. (Dear god, please don’t tell her I told you so. Her gloating self-satisfaction will only make her intolerable.) Ok, she’s fucking rad most of the time. I won’t lie ~ there are still days when she pushes my buttons and works my nerves so bad that I want to water board the shit out of her for I am utterly convinced that she is a terrorist. But most days I’ll count her as one of my all-time best friends. No shit ~ there are actual times when I’ve come to her for dating advice, shared hilarious dating stories with her and needed a shoulder to cry on when a pretty girl stomped on my already fractured heart. She brought me soup and Nyquil when I caught the cold from hell (which I’m still convinced was actually the plague), for fuck’s sake! How many of you can say that about your ex spouses? See what I mean?: fucking rad.
I should mention that my ex-wife is happily coupled up with a very sweet and pretty girl who seems much better suited for her than I ever was. I am genuinely glad to see her so loved up and happy. Like every single one of us: she’s the best version of herself when she’s in love.
So getting back to my favorite topic (Me!) … I confess: I didn’t give myself much time to sit and grieve my divorce before jumping head first into the frigid waters of the online dating pool. I skipped the wading pool and dove straight into the deep end! I don’t need no stinking floaties! I’m not going to bother testing the temperature with my big toe! Who cares that there’s no lifeguard on duty?! I jumped in with reckless abandon.
There were a few reasons for my hasty dive into the pool. First, I am incredibly choosey, hard to impress and even harder to love, so I knew this endeavor would take a long time. Second, I knew that I wasn’t looking for a “just add water” relationship. You know that old clichéd joke about lesbians bringing a U-Haul on the second date? Yeah, that is SO not me. I wanted to casually date, meet new people, figure out who I was as a newly-minted single girl and exactly the type of girl I’d like to eventually have in my life. Baby steps, people. Baby. Steps.
And so we'll begin our journey into the shark-infested, frigid waters of the online dating pool. Grab your floaties and your snorkel mask, and let’s jump in together, shall we?