wherein I show internet dating the door
When I had a little time to sit down a few days after S bailed on me (again), I deleted my profile on OkCupid. Several reason precipitated this decision...
1) First dates--especially ones with people met over the interwebs--suck. I will never miss that kind of awkwardness, nor the sweaty pits and wobbly knees as I approach the meet-up spot.
2) In general, dating sites are full of games and lies. I get plenty of that in real life, thanks. One can design a fantastically datable person via an online profile. Sure, it's based on an actual person, but it's only the best parts, or, what's more: the person one *wants* to be. In my experience, OK was full of socially dysfunctional people (and hey, there's a lid for every pot, so I'm not judging) who truly wanted to date/fuck/be in a relationship, but weren't there yet. This particularly upsets me when it comes to men--the fact that they have nothing to bring to the relationship doesn't sway them one bit. They want to date, they *need* to date, and fuck the consequences their actions have on the other party. That's entitlement. Guess what! I am a real person, not a bed warmer or ego booster. Wanting a relationship of any kind is not enough--you actually need your shit together, otherwise everything WILL go to shit. That, or you'll rarely get a second date.
3) Even when things progressed to something that could be a relationship (as with C and S), it was still... distant. I don't know if that was me, them, the internet, or the bizarre coincidence that they were both clinically depressed (C drinking on her meds, S going off his). Could have been any combination therein, or none of the above. Still, I think there's a different getting-to-know-you process with internet dating. Because there's a good deal of written communication long before a date (at least for me), intimacy has been established prior to a face-to-face meeting. In a lot of ways, that's great. I want to know someone's writing style (and be certain they CAN write), and I'm a sucker for long email exchanges--my generation's version of the love letter. But! The danger of this process lies in the careful presentation and self-editing I described above. There's intimacy, but it's crafted. The slow reveal has been accelerated in some areas, but grossly delayed in others. People who first meet in person do this too, of course, but I suppose I'm more adept at sussing out bullshit artists in person/real time verses online/in writing. I suspend my disbelief too much while reading a good email, and that's no bueno.
4) Internet dating was a time-suck. Dating online is even worse than dating in person because the internet is choked with millions of people, so, seemingly, the grass is always greener. NYC is a singles playground, but throw in the internet and forget about sincerity and longevity. Someone new is only a mouse click away. I could speed hours cultivating conversations and planting seeds of interest online, only to come up empty and frustrated. The losers were easy to spot and ignore, wasting little time at all. But the ones who expressed interest, then flaked really ate down the clock. I don't watch tv for--among other reasons--the time wasting factor, so this vortex wasn't fabulous for me either.
5) WHERE ARE THE GAY WOMEN??? For every one woman who viewed my profile, there were fifty guys. Among those guys, maybe only five who weren't skeezy dudes looking for a kinky girl and/or a threesome. I had a few bi-related disclaimers and warnings, but it only slightly worked. There's a lot of biphobia out there, be it from clueless men or lesbians who think I'm a traitor to my gender. Still, I wasn't going to claim straight or gay. I'm bisexual. Deal with it. Occasionally I would meet a fellow sister in arms; we'd commiserate, but nothing really panned out. If ever again I dare wade into the murky waters of internet dating, I'm going to a gay site.
6) S had a secret profile. Well, he mentioned that he had several profiles in the past, but when he deleted his current profile shortly after dating me (saying he didn't want to be online so much), I assumed that was it for him and OK. Wrong. When we got back together, he admitted that, over the break, he had been watching me from an old profile he didn't use but kept because of old journal entries. "Watching me" is my term. In his mind, I "came up on his news feed" a few times because he had added me as a "favorite," which means one gets updates on that person whenever they answer questions, change their status, add photos, or update their profile. Oddly, that didn't creep me out at first--there was a lot going on in that first conversation, post-break. I thought it was wack that it hurt his feelings when I changed my status from "in a relationship" to "single" when HE broke up with ME, but love is a nutty thing. The next day he alerted me to this profile and I added him as a favorite, but then I started to wonder: was he watching me during our three months together? Was he flirting with/seeing other people online while seeing me? (Doubtful, but it begs the question.) How unhealthy is it that he was stalking me online (Facebook too) during the break we were taking for the express purpose that he adjust to new meds and focus on his mental health? This shit had more red flags than a Chinese New Year parade.
When I last logged onto OK, of course I could see his activity because he was a "favorite." Sure enough, he's single again, looking for love, and sporting some new photos. That's probably for spite, but let's revisit point 2: he's waaaaaaay too fucked up to date right now (as am I, thank you, S), but he's back in the game. Entitlement. Yuck. I decided I ain't playin', and I sure as hell don't want him watching my activities (you can't "un-favorite" yourself from someone else, and even if you block them, they can still see your profile, but can't message you). So I went dark on OK and de-listed him on Facebook too. No more of this shit. I've had it. And in a roundabout way, I'm doing him a favor since now he can't stalk me and obsess over my every action. You know, breaking up used to be a lot simpler. Remember when you just didn't call someone again? Oh, the innocence!
Thus concludes my adventures in internet dating. I know the writing in this area will suffer greatly because of it, but I'd rather a little drama-free serenity over the hilarious posts about my last strange date. Fear not though! Something else is bound to prompt a flurry of posts. I have that ultra-annoying job, after all...
1) First dates--especially ones with people met over the interwebs--suck. I will never miss that kind of awkwardness, nor the sweaty pits and wobbly knees as I approach the meet-up spot.
2) In general, dating sites are full of games and lies. I get plenty of that in real life, thanks. One can design a fantastically datable person via an online profile. Sure, it's based on an actual person, but it's only the best parts, or, what's more: the person one *wants* to be. In my experience, OK was full of socially dysfunctional people (and hey, there's a lid for every pot, so I'm not judging) who truly wanted to date/fuck/be in a relationship, but weren't there yet. This particularly upsets me when it comes to men--the fact that they have nothing to bring to the relationship doesn't sway them one bit. They want to date, they *need* to date, and fuck the consequences their actions have on the other party. That's entitlement. Guess what! I am a real person, not a bed warmer or ego booster. Wanting a relationship of any kind is not enough--you actually need your shit together, otherwise everything WILL go to shit. That, or you'll rarely get a second date.
3) Even when things progressed to something that could be a relationship (as with C and S), it was still... distant. I don't know if that was me, them, the internet, or the bizarre coincidence that they were both clinically depressed (C drinking on her meds, S going off his). Could have been any combination therein, or none of the above. Still, I think there's a different getting-to-know-you process with internet dating. Because there's a good deal of written communication long before a date (at least for me), intimacy has been established prior to a face-to-face meeting. In a lot of ways, that's great. I want to know someone's writing style (and be certain they CAN write), and I'm a sucker for long email exchanges--my generation's version of the love letter. But! The danger of this process lies in the careful presentation and self-editing I described above. There's intimacy, but it's crafted. The slow reveal has been accelerated in some areas, but grossly delayed in others. People who first meet in person do this too, of course, but I suppose I'm more adept at sussing out bullshit artists in person/real time verses online/in writing. I suspend my disbelief too much while reading a good email, and that's no bueno.
4) Internet dating was a time-suck. Dating online is even worse than dating in person because the internet is choked with millions of people, so, seemingly, the grass is always greener. NYC is a singles playground, but throw in the internet and forget about sincerity and longevity. Someone new is only a mouse click away. I could speed hours cultivating conversations and planting seeds of interest online, only to come up empty and frustrated. The losers were easy to spot and ignore, wasting little time at all. But the ones who expressed interest, then flaked really ate down the clock. I don't watch tv for--among other reasons--the time wasting factor, so this vortex wasn't fabulous for me either.
5) WHERE ARE THE GAY WOMEN??? For every one woman who viewed my profile, there were fifty guys. Among those guys, maybe only five who weren't skeezy dudes looking for a kinky girl and/or a threesome. I had a few bi-related disclaimers and warnings, but it only slightly worked. There's a lot of biphobia out there, be it from clueless men or lesbians who think I'm a traitor to my gender. Still, I wasn't going to claim straight or gay. I'm bisexual. Deal with it. Occasionally I would meet a fellow sister in arms; we'd commiserate, but nothing really panned out. If ever again I dare wade into the murky waters of internet dating, I'm going to a gay site.
6) S had a secret profile. Well, he mentioned that he had several profiles in the past, but when he deleted his current profile shortly after dating me (saying he didn't want to be online so much), I assumed that was it for him and OK. Wrong. When we got back together, he admitted that, over the break, he had been watching me from an old profile he didn't use but kept because of old journal entries. "Watching me" is my term. In his mind, I "came up on his news feed" a few times because he had added me as a "favorite," which means one gets updates on that person whenever they answer questions, change their status, add photos, or update their profile. Oddly, that didn't creep me out at first--there was a lot going on in that first conversation, post-break. I thought it was wack that it hurt his feelings when I changed my status from "in a relationship" to "single" when HE broke up with ME, but love is a nutty thing. The next day he alerted me to this profile and I added him as a favorite, but then I started to wonder: was he watching me during our three months together? Was he flirting with/seeing other people online while seeing me? (Doubtful, but it begs the question.) How unhealthy is it that he was stalking me online (Facebook too) during the break we were taking for the express purpose that he adjust to new meds and focus on his mental health? This shit had more red flags than a Chinese New Year parade.
When I last logged onto OK, of course I could see his activity because he was a "favorite." Sure enough, he's single again, looking for love, and sporting some new photos. That's probably for spite, but let's revisit point 2: he's waaaaaaay too fucked up to date right now (as am I, thank you, S), but he's back in the game. Entitlement. Yuck. I decided I ain't playin', and I sure as hell don't want him watching my activities (you can't "un-favorite" yourself from someone else, and even if you block them, they can still see your profile, but can't message you). So I went dark on OK and de-listed him on Facebook too. No more of this shit. I've had it. And in a roundabout way, I'm doing him a favor since now he can't stalk me and obsess over my every action. You know, breaking up used to be a lot simpler. Remember when you just didn't call someone again? Oh, the innocence!
Thus concludes my adventures in internet dating. I know the writing in this area will suffer greatly because of it, but I'd rather a little drama-free serenity over the hilarious posts about my last strange date. Fear not though! Something else is bound to prompt a flurry of posts. I have that ultra-annoying job, after all...