What Do You Really Want?

And why are we afraid to say it?

After Bill died when I was living alone in the wilderness with three dogs, I set up a dating profile. It was kind of easy to do then because there is a period in grief where you just don’t care if you keep living. Compared to that, dating was child’s play. So what if I met a serial killer on a date? Problem solved. I realized this feeling was shared among grievers when a newly-widowed friend and I were jaywalking across the street together and a car nearly smashed into us. We both just looked at each other and shrugged. Problem solved.

Photo by Zoshua Colah on Unsplash

Now whether this bravado would have stuck in the face of real threat, I kind of doubt. I am fortunate to say I lived through that period, despite the additional risks I often took, until I returned to the normal state of the living where you care a bit more about your mortality.

But that boldness I felt was probably good for a middled-aged woman dating. I approached it with the new awareness that this life stuff is very temporary for us all and I wasn’t going to waste my efforts pretending to want something I didn’t. I led with the truth. I had once had good love and that’s what I wanted again. I didn’t care if you wanted long walks on the beach or to jump from helicopters, it was love I was after. Although you did very much have to like animals.

Real Life Experience

I didn’t apologize for my age, and I didn’t have to worry much about the accuracy of my pictures because I take lousy photos and if anyone got past those, they’d probably be relieved in person. Apparently, this was a good enough approach to attract interest but there were still many, many dates that were just off. It took a while to get past the point of expecting a new person to share the attributes I liked about my former person. That set a nearly impossible bar for most. I backed off, and then tried again, and that process happened quite a few times. When I was finally about to give up and decide to just live out my days solo, I met my match. Maybe it was the timing. Maybe it was meant to be as he didn’t come online until I was just leaving. Maybe all those wrong dates were placeholders until the right one was ready. I don’t know but I led with the truth, muddled through the long uncomfortable period of uncertainty where no one seemed right, and left with what I’d come for: a genuinely good fit.

If you’re out there dating as a young person or an old one, there are plenty of people to commiserate with you about how hard it is. This is true, mostly because we want to enter the scene, collect what we came for, and then exit quickly. But finding a partner is not like going to the store for bananas. Uncertainty abounds, including whether you should even enter the market at all. This is where most people give up. They have a number. They’re willing to go on five or six dates, or maybe stick it out for a year or two. Then they’re out. That long uncomfortable period of uncertainty is where a person’s temerity is tested. Most give up, beaten down and defeated.

But a lot of these daters don’t lead with the truth and that’s a set up for failure in many areas of life. Dating is no different. If your picture is younger or thinner than your real self, it doesn’t improve your odds. Nor does it help to sound breezy and flirty about your desires when what you really want is the real thing.

Beware of Helpful Coaches

I have helped write dating profiles for a few friends. One told me she eventually hired a dating coach who poo-pooed my approach to telling the truth and instead made over her words to seem like she was just looking for fun. The coach seemed to think that snagging the most men in a wide net was the best way to improve her odds of finding a keeper. I’m no coach but I’d rather meet two men who wanted what I want rather than a hundred who were just looking for a good time. Because then what? Do you just spend the rest of your time pretending like you’re going to accidentally fall in love when that was the hidden goal all along?

Leading with the truth is much faster. It clears out swaths of inappropriate people in your romantic life, your social life, and your work life. Trust that it’ll be okay if you’re just your real self. Trust that it will narrow down your world to something smaller than it could be, but that size will be deliciously fulfilling. Like a homemade chocolate chip cookie instead of a dried up substitute pulled from a crinkly bag.

We’re not here forever. If you’re grieving, it can seem interminably long, but trust that there’s another side to that if you’re willing to reach out to life in truth. There’s still good stuff out here. Thank you for reading.