Maybe It's Chemistry or Maybe It's Just My Trauma Bonding

LENGTH WARNING: This piece is very long. I tried for short and sweet but it’s about trauma bonding for the love of God. There is nothing short and sweet about it.

Back in late September, I downloaded Bumble after deleting a different dating app. I thought maybe the change of scenery would bring with it a new palette of offerings. I’m not sure what I was actually thinking because what I really wanted to do was delete all the dating apps all together. However, in the time of COVID, I have no idea how to actually meet someone so instead, I decided to switch apps.

Within minutes there he was. The guy. The one that gave me butterflies in high school and who periodically, for reasons unbeknownst to me, popped into my head from time to time over the years. I wonder what XXXXX is doing with his life.

I stared at his profile and questioned whether or not I should swipe right. He was, after all, the older brother of a girl who was in my graduating class and I knew him in real life. Sort of. Plus, he always felt so far out of my reach. Could I really sit with the discomfort of him possibly not swiping back on me?

I decided what the hell. This is 2020 after all. Anything is possible. We are adults now. We are no longer awkward teens. We are full-blown single forty-somethings just looking for love. Why is it so hard to believe that maybe it could be with each other. So I swiped right.

A MATCH! A hit of dopamine shot to my brain and butterflies danced in my belly. What the what? I was not expecting that. And then, Oh God. I thought. We…matched. Could a version of my own Hallmark Movie really be in the near future? You know the one where the girl moves back to her hometown, runs into the older brother of a girl she went to high school with who she secretly always had a crush on and he sees her and is like, "Wow. You sure grew up!” And they fall in magical love right then and there. End scene.

I stared at my phone. The rules of Bumble require the woman reach out to the man first. I know, stupid. I think it sets a weird precedence but I believe, is to help prevent the often uncomfortable and entirely inappropriate slew of annoying and cheesy come-ons and occasional unsolicited dick pics. Yep, that has actually happened to me. Uninvited. Unwelcome.

What do I even say to him? Will he remember who I am? What if he REALIZES who I am and doesn’t respond? What if he accidentally swiped right? And just like that, I’m back in high school right along with all my paralyzing insecurities about the boy I have a crush on.

“I’m not that person anymore, Amanda. I’ve grown up. I’m different, more self-assured. More, interesting. Plus, he is not the sun Amanda. YOU are the sun.” I coached myself until I had the courage to type, “XXXXX! How are you? You know we know each other in real life, right?” Knowing full well I may never hear back from him I hit SEND. And then chewed off all my nails waiting.

Within a little bit he wrote back and the smile on my face spread from cheek to cheek and just for a brief moment I entertained the thought that just maybe I would get my Hallmark movie after all. After several long exchanges back and forth and a few hour long phone calls we decided to meet up. We picked a place in Issaquah with outdoor seating to be COVID safe. We met and six hours later, it was decided. We had amazing chemistry. Or at least we could talk nonstop for six hours. But it was more than just two friends talking at length. Mixed in was the perfect amount of flirting and lust filled eyes gazing. It was dreamy.

We continued talking over the next few days, both through text and on the phone as he lives an hour and a half north which is a little outside my comfort level of “no long distance dating” but not a total deal breaker. One of the things I found so refreshing about him was that he preferred talking over the phone. It wasn’t just refreshing. It was a full on turn on in todays dating world. We decided to meet up later that week when he was back in the area.

But a few days into our whirlwind flirtation it happened. I don’t know what it is but I feel it in my gut before it actually happens. A disconnect. It’s like I can feel them break away or wander off mentally. As an anxious attachment style, in the past this would send me into a fit of anxiety. But now I know as an anxious I tend to attract avoidant so I know to hang back a bit and just let them work their process too. So I did. I went about my thing all the while knowing something felt off. It’s the blessing and the curse of being a highly and borderline freakishly intuitive person.

When the day we decided to meet up came and he hadn’t solidified plans I just knew. This was also after two other unanswered texts. I knew he had no intentions of really pursuing anything. I’ve been in this dating game long enough to know what it feels like to have someone interested and to have someone throw me in their "I’ll just reach out when I’m lonely” back pocket. I also knew that I really needed to uphold my boundaries and that I am looking for a man that is consistent. Someone who wants to get to know me as much as I want to know them. Someone who’s actions and words totally align.

Mind you, wanting and actually holding out for are two entirely different things.

After the second unanswered text, I decided that here was my opportunity to see my growth. I could lean into the anxiety of being ghosted or the potential ghosting that was happening and allow myself to feel the rejection and disappointment, and let it go, knowing very well that ghosting is a reflection of them, not me. The next day he called and left a message that he had to head back north because a friend had an emergency. Which, now knowing what I know, I can’t help but wonder if this “friend” was really more than a friend.

Cool. Stuff happens in life. I get that. But that still doesn’t warrant not responding to my “hey did you still want to get together today” text from the day before. When I called back it went to voicemail and then, after two days of no response, my anxiousness got the best of me. Ya’ll know how I feel about ghosting and if you don’t, read this post. I have a 0% tolerance for it and call that shit out when I realize it is happening. We literally live in the easiest time to just be direct. You can send a friggin’ text message it’s that easy.

After several text drafts I finally settled on the one that felt the most emotionally mature and just wished him the best but that I am worthy of the decency of someone not just disappearing on me. Blah blah blah. He called right away after receiving this text. We had a good conversation and he apologized and said he did want to continue getting to know me and was interested.

Then….nothing. Ghosted. Again.

After nothing more came from him over the course of the next few days I just let it go. I was already exhausted from something that was suppose to be fun, flirty, steamy and new.

I know enough now to know that sure, his actions plain sucked and were rude and insensitive but I also recognize that I had a part too. We always have a part because we continue to entertain their actions. We ignore our boundaries.

So I spent the next few weeks in my shop working on my art and doing what I do best, reflecting on why it is that I am still attracting avoidant and unavailable men.

And here is the part of the story I really don’t want to admit but I have to because well, it’s part of the story and more importantly, part of my next level of growth.

The weeks rolled by until about a month later there he was again. To be honest, I could feel that he was going to reach out soon. Don’t ask me how or why I know these things but I can ALWAYS feel it. The night after election night I saw my phone light up indicating that I had a text and as I reached for my phone to see who it was I knew before I looked.

“Hey Amanda. I hope you are well. I’ve been thinking about you and I’d really like to spend time with you and continue to get to know you more.”

I stared at my phone.

Fuck.

My mom’s words that she borrowed from Oprah who repeated what was originally said by Maya Angelu echoed through my head, “Amanda, people show you who they are right away. Believe them.”

Yeah ladies, I know I know. But this was the guy and I’ve still got unresolved daddy issues so…

I responded. Right after I went up to my landlords place and talked to him for thirty minutes about what I should do. We have a funny relationship like that.

High school crush guy and I talked for awhile on the phone ever so delicately tip toeing around the elephant in the room and I listened as he told me how overwhelmingly busy the weeks were after we initially met and as he talked, I told my intuition that was screaming “NOBODY IS THAT BUSY WHEN IT COMES TO SOMEONE THEY ARE INTERESTED IN” to take a hike. Hottie McHottie was back damnit and we had unfinished business.

Before we got off the phone he said he would be in touch to let me know about ‘spending time together.’

As we hung up I couldn’t shake the feeling that nobody is THAT busy for someone they are truly interested in. But then again, this is my Hallmark movie and anything is possible.

The days that followed again proved my intuition right. Nothing.

As I type all this out all I can think is, good Lord Amanda. You’ve still got work to do.

I want to point out here I am in no way trying to be a victim to his actions here. I know very well that by responding to his messages, I invited him back into my life knowing that my gut was telling me a different story.

There was a time not too long ago that I would take this and make it ALL about how I wasn’t enough for them. Because of therapy and actively pulling apart my past trauma and the stories I create in my head, I realized that this is merely a reflection of where I still need to heal.

This time I just let his lack of follow through go. Annoyed I promised myself that when he reached out again I’d ignore it.

Util he did reach out again two weeks later. I stared at my phone once again.

“Hey! I’ve been thinking about you and your curls.”

I know, barf. As I type this all out I see how barfy this actually was. Believe you me, I am cringing at myself right now.

I know exactly what I should have done. I do.

It’s just, with some men it’s easier then others. Some men I can just say good-bye too but others, others are like the emerald green Kryptonite in my life and Jesus Christ, it’s like even though I’m repeatedly burning my hand on the hot stove, I just keep forgetting it’s hot or choose to believe that this time, even though the stove is a bright fiery red, it’s really not that hot.

But yeah, instead of ignoring the text like I should have, I responded. And once again he said he really wanted to spend time with me. This time I laid my boundaries out VERY clearly. I said the only way I would entertain this is if he was consistent and actually made plans.

And this time he was actually consistent with the correspondence. He called and texted but after two weeks of still no attempt at making any plans I knew, once again, I was being strung along. Probably because he knew he could get what he needed (attention) from a sucker like me. Somewhere inside he knew he was my form of Kryptonite, my drug of choice, and all he had to do was give me just enough and I was hooked.

But I kept coming back to something: nobody is THAT busy when it comes to true romantic interest. Sure, maybe it’s timing. Or maybe I just need to admit to myself that still have work to do.

I keep telling myself that I want a man who shows up from day one and is consistent in his interest for me. I want the chemistry AND the consistency. I don’t want guessing games or the wondering what if’s. I know, on a conscious level, that I am worthy of what I want and am actively learning how to really believe that. I suppose this is done by showing up for myself different. By setting very clear and consistent boundaries and communicating and acting on them.

So I bid him farewell and asked that he please respect my boundaries. And I hated every moment of it because this drug feels just as good as it feels bad.

And I took my bruised ego and disappointment and annoyance at boundaries on a good long walk. I have a clear idea of the truth now. My truth. I want more for myself.

There is still a part of me that is longing to be chosen by the avoidant man. That little girl in me who’s dad never could be there for her the way she needed him to be aches to be chosen.

I guess what I am realizing is I have to keep choosing her and one day that will be enough.

I look forward to mulling this one over in therapy on Tuesday.

Here Is How You Date. Tips From The Girl Who Is Perpetually Single

“We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.” ― Dr. Seuss

The other day my best friend sent me a text. “Hey! I told ________ that we should do a girl’s night and maybe you can show her the ropes on how to date now and which apps to use. Another family friend just broke up with her boyfriend and is moving back to Seattle too!” All I could think was, oh my sweet friend, it’s obvious by your enthusiasm that you’ve been married a very long time.

I read the message and all I could think was, “Welcome ladies…to the Hunger Games. May the odds ever be in your favor” Because let’s be honest, dating now in general feels a little bit like we are all running around aimlessly on an island, without a clue as to what we are doing. And dating in 2020 feels like we are Tom Hanks in Castaway stranded on a desert island talking to our friend, the volleyball.

But then I laughed and accept that I’ve been in this game a long time and really nothing has changed and now I have become some kind of dating expert that my married friends refer their newly single friends to. Albeit, not the best one but as my mom likes to remind me, I’ve dated a lot over the years because I’ve been perpetually single for the majority of my life. Except for that one time I got married. So yeah, maybe I am some kind of expert.

I tend to do really good with relationships that last just about two months, and every now and again, I land on a six monther. Yes I can pretend I know what I’m doing but really, lets be honest, I suck at dating. I am, however, an expert, at being single.

Dating is hard for someone like me who is intense and full of big emotions and feelings and thrives in deep conversation. First dates are the worst. Just like with a job interview or networking event, I’m usually the awkward one talking about the weather. I have no middle ground. No in-between. I’m either “Oh did you hear it’s suppose to be sunny next week?” Or I’m like, “So, tell me about your inner child pain and how you are working towards healing it so you can show up in the world as your most authentic self.” Sprinkle in some lingering daddy issues, lack of trust from an ex-husband that cheated repeatedly and an anxious attachment style, my friends, dating expert I am not. A regular on my therapists couch, er, computer screen, I am.

The point of my self-deprecating rant is dating scares the shit out of me because it always shines a big bright search light on my deepest, most painful wounds and I like myself better when I’m single. I’m cool, calm, witty, super confident, sexy and fit, adventurous and relaxed. I’m like, every guys dream girl.

I also feel like good, available men are like some mythical creature. Everyone says they know a friend of a friend of a friend who’s seen one but there is very little evidence that they actually exist.

Admittedly, I’ve spent many a mind-numbing hours perusing dating apps, looking at profiles of men sitting next to giant Tigers or holding a large dead fish with big creepy smiles sprawled across their faces that says, “Ugh. Me. Provide. For. You. Me. Strong. Me. Brave.” I can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of subliminal cavemen messaging. Like, they may not be able to hit us over the head with a club and drag us into their cave by our hair anymore but if they post a picture sitting next to some sedated Tiger on an island in Thailand I’m suppose to be like, “Oh, damn, this man, he’s gonna keep me safe.”

Ah, nope. Swipe. Left.

If you sense a cynical tone it’s true. I’m close to almost settling on the fact that I’ll probably just grow old alone in a cabin in the woods with cats and books and a shop out back with a chop saw. And then I find myself thinking with this current dating market, one can only hope.

The other day I found my cynicism bleeding into a conversation with a friend and saying that maybe all I need is a sex friend and companion to spend a few hours talking with every now and then. Ya know, scratch both itches with one stone kind of thing. Or is that kill two birds? Basically, someone I hump and then spend a few hours eating food and talking with and then we go about our own independent way. But he called my bluff and reminded me that this isn’t really me and what I truly long for is what most long for, a meaningful partnership where I am loved for my unique weirdness.

And he is right.

Despite my cynicism, I am a internal optimist when it comes to matters of the heart. A lover of the dream.

As my therapist once told me after another devastating heartbreak, “Amanda. You know what I love about you most? Your heart just never gives up. No matter how much you get hurt by love you still believe it’s out there just looking for you too.”

And it’s true.

As jaded or reluctant as I may appear, there is a part of me that is filled with the hope that love is out there for someone like me. That one day my weird will find it’s matching weird counterpart and we will live happily ever after in our perfectly little weird bubble. That one day we will meet and he will be everything I never knew I was looking for and he’ll like cats too. That is what keeps me swiping.

The truth is I don’t really date and I haven’t dated since I ended the two month thing with the last guy in early May and now there is this whole hysterectomy thing and healing from that so I’m just, I think, in a bit of a holding pattern right now because to be honest, I’d rather meet someone in real life and this whole Coronavirus thing has made that feel a bit hard right now. Not impossible, just hard. I mean, I do look great in a face mask.

Most of the time I just don’t come across anyone I find interesting enough to swipe right on but every now and then I do. It’s more likely my trauma bonding but that little pit in my stomach starts to flutter, ripping down the cobwebs that began to form from when things ended with whatever guy I was dating last and excitement erupts. And I think, “My faith has been restored! I I just may want to know more about this person.” It doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s like a sugar rush straight to the head. I’m high and hooked.

It actually happened recently but just as quickly as he entered, poof, he disappeared never to be heard from again. Which is a whole other rant and brings me back to something I’ve already written about before; ghosting and how unbelievable immature it is. And rude. Didn’t your parents teach you about respect?

Oh my God can we stop with the ghosting already? People. I’m going to say this once. There is an actual human being behind those profiles and text messages. Human beings who have their own ‘stuff’ they are working through and I know our brains have somehow forgotten this but for f*&k’s sake, despite the technological shield these apps make us believe is there, ghosting still feels pretty damn shitty. No matter how many Mark Groves Instagram quotes you read about how it’s not you, it’s the other person’s lack of something, it. still. feels. shitty.

And you want to know why so many of us are a jaded?

Ghosting. It’s called ghosting!

Especially when we literally live in an era where all you have to do is send a text message that says:

Hey, it was nice getting
to know you a bit
but I’m not feeling it.
I wish you the best.

This actually happened to me several months ago and it was like a breath of f*&king fresh air. Yeah my ego stung for a moment upon first reading it but then I just felt relieved because it was honest and true and oh how I love and value both of those things. Door closed, move on. Next!

There is no wondering if maybe they were in some kind of terrible car accident or how they are probably just scared because I’m that awesome and that intimidates them (insert sarcasm here please). No, it’s good old fashion clear communication and it’s what my dreams are made of. We need to get back to this. Actually, we need to start this because let’s be honest, it was really never there to begin with. Remember, I’ve been at this a long time. I know.

And here is another thing I want to bring up about honesty. What should be on your dating profile. These are non negotiable and it’s backed up by a poll I took on Instagram so it’s fact. Trust me.

If you are looking for something real and long-term, casual or if you are just DTF (Down to F&*k and yes for those of you that have been in a relationship forever, it’s a real thing)

Okay my friends, there are those of us that are seeking something real and have turned to dating apps because meeting someone in person just seems so out of the realm of possible in todays world. Then, there are those who are just exploring dating and want to keep it casual and fun and ‘see what happens.” Last there are those who are just wanting to plain old get down and dirty, no strings attached with every Jane, Suzy and Pam. Cool. All of it is okay. All of it is welcomed. But ALL of it needs to be clearly communicated in your profile. This gives the other person the option to think responsibly about what they want and whether or not they are willing to entertain the idea of getting to know you. Simple as that. It’s call R.E.S.P.E.C.T. Aretha Franklin wrote a song all about it.

Kids

I posted in my stories the other day asking my Insta community what they thought about whether or not people with kids should be fully transparent about it in their profiles. Every single comment came back was a big resounding YES. And I agree. Same guy above that was poof, gone, also didn’t disclose that he had kids in his profile. I found out after he gave me his Instagram handle and I did a little “research.” To be honest, I was irritated, first that he so quickly gave me his Instagram handle because I have a hard boundary about not doing said ‘research.’ Instead, I prefer to get to know them organically. But when you put it in front of my face it’s like putting candy in front of a small child and saying don’t eat it as you walk out of the room leaving them all alone. Yeah. Right.

He didn’t share that he had kids in his profile nor did he share it in our back and forth conversation. Although not a very long conversation, he did list out other ‘fact’ about him like how he owned a home and makes mean tacos. Personally, I feel like “I’m the proud dad of kids” goes right up there. Right after “I make mean tacos and stiff margaritas.” And to preference, I’m totally open to dating guys with kids but it’s a very different mindset and I need to mentally prepare. It’s a whole different set of boundaries, potential responsibilities and lifestyle to think about. I also feel that when you withhold that information it can lead someone to think you are a deadbeat dad and aren’t proud of being a parent. Honestly, if I’m going to date a guy with kids, he better be damn proud of the dad he is.

It’s called integrity.

It’s also similar to why I always have a picture of me with my dog and cat on my profile. I know a lot of guys don’t like cats and well, I do and will more than likely always have a cat and I rather give them the opportunity to pass me by then feel like it’s some big dirty secret that I like cats. My cat is curled up on my lap right now in fact and it is pretty friggin’ cute. So yay cats!

But in all seriousness, take a step back for a minute. Don’t you want the person you meet to be fully on board with who you are from the get go? And I mean ALL of you. For me, it feels better to get some of the bigger, I can’t change this about me things out in the open ASAP, especially as I get older. Instead of many dates later only to discover (after feels have started to form, etc) that they are in fact, deadly allergic to cats. Or kids for that matter.

If you are in an open relationship

This, to me, is a no brainer but apparently it’s not. This was also something that got brought up by a friend of mine that is in an open relationship. He told me that when he puts it in his profile he doesn’t get a lot of matches but when he leaves it out, he does. Um, yeah, duh. Makes sense. Although I completely support those who choose to be in an open relationship, I myself, know I would not thrive in one and want to know what I am getting in the very beginning. I want the choice. I asked said friend what happens when he eventually tells the person he is in an open relationship and he said he is met with a lot of questions and that people tend to assume that he is up to no good. That’s what happens when you are not transparent about something from the beginning. It makes you look like you are doing something sleazy even when you aren’t.

I agree that we could all be a lot more open-minded about open relationships and there is absolutely nothing wrong with them. However, it’s not for everyone and to get to the point where you may be open to it, there needs to be a level of trust and trust is built from truth, transparency and alignment.

Put it in your profile my friends.

If you have a non-negotiable, strong religious affiliation

Look, I’m down with the G.O.D and the Universe and Spirit and all that jazz but my God may not be your God and if your way of relating to God is a nonnegotiable for you and you don’t have room in your life for my view of God then it will never work. Seriously, I’ve tried this. Remember that one time I got married. Yeah, well, we had very different ideas of God and it bled into every decision, value and overall, the integrity of our whole marriage. And thank G.O.D we actually never did get pregnant because it would have bled into that too.

Now I’m not talking bout your every day average holiday church goer. I’m talking about those that maybe want to try ChristianMingle.com instead of your good ol’ Hinge or Bumble. If you are on that level it’s important to fully disclose it. If it’s a serious part of your life, own it.

And to cap it all off. One of my best friends, same friend who sent me the text above gave me some of the best advice ever. Way back when she met her now husband, she told me that if I am truly looking for a relationship, to always ask the big questions right from the get go. Because as she says, “Amanda, you are looking for a partner. Don’t waste your time. If they don’t want the things you do, move on. Next!” It took me a good long while to figure that one out.

So yeah, I’m intense and my own version of weird and maybe I will end up in a cabin in the woods with cats and books walking in circles singing Gregory Alan Isakov melodramatic songs on repeat as I wallow in the idea of a dream that never happened but I will always believe that somewhere out in this big old world there is someone who likes cats just as much as I do. Or who can at least tolerate them because they like me a whole lot. I have to believe that there is someone(s) out there looking for my perfect version of weird too. And hey, at least I’ll always know that during this whole damn dating process I stayed true to myself. I lived my integrity.

And to that is say, ME-OW. I mean, a-men.

An Old Fashion Girl's Thoughts on Dating, on pain and growth and her happily ever after.

Ah, yes. This post.  Here's a little warning: it's long(er).

The Backstory

As we drove North on I-405, I sat in the front seat as my pregnant sister-in-law squeezed in between my niece and nephew in the back of their Ford Escape. My older brother sipped his latte and they talked with the kids about the nature of our drive north. Trying to explain to a four and two year old that grandpa is now in heaven with Jesus is like trying to explain how babies are made. Both awkward, confusing and a delicate dance of deciding how much to share. And then your four year old nephew asks, "when am I going to heaven with Jesus?" And your heart crumbles just a little. 

It was May 18th and I had been back in Seattle for only a few days. I was settling in to my new life, setting up my home living with my older brother and sister-in-law, niece and nephew. I was also back in the same town I grew up in and my life all of the sudden felt like a made for TV movie. 

It was the day of my grandpa's memorial service who passed away almost a month earlier, the same week I decided to leave my husband. My cat, the only thing that made me feel someone normal in this new world I was navigating, had been missing for 15 hours, and it would have been my third wedding anniversary. I sighed, releasing the heavy breath I had been holding on to as I gazed out the window watching the forest green pines pass by at rapid speed. I focused on the afterglow, that stream of light you see when moving at fast speeds.

I thought about the day ahead, the inevitable questions, the comments, the sympathetic looks, and I knew that all it would take was just one and I would crumble. I prayed that I could hold it all together.  

We stepped into the church and were all a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of people who came to pay their respects to my grandfather. He was a man who dedicated himself to serving his community and it showed. I plastered on a fake smile and reminded myself that this was about celebrating the wonderful and hilarious person that was my grandpa. However, at any time, I could always use my niece or nephew as an excuse to step away. I eyed the vacant nursery room full of toys and books and planned my potential escape, hiding away in a room full of giggles, toy trains and Bernstein Bears Books. 

The service was a beautiful tribute to my grandpa and for the first time, I felt relief from my own pain by celebrating his memory. After the service, we gathered in the room adjacent to potluck. As I walked down the dimly lit hallway I coached myself for all the possible outcomes, "This is it Amanda. Just get through this and you can head home and lie on the couch with Henry and Kate and watch Thomas the Train. Everything will be fine." 

I did my best to avoid, turning conversations around to focus on the other person but somewhere inside I knew it was inevitable. And I know people meant well. It's an awkward situation to be in really. They are saying and doing what they think will help, offering up any words that will potentially make all of this easier. What I really wanted was for them to say nothing or to just say, "I know this sucks. I'm sorry." Instead, I was met with the expected:

"There are so many amazing men out there Amanda."

"Honey, there are plenty of fish in the sea,"

"He doesn't know what he's losing. What a jerk!" 

"You'lI meet the right person when its time."

I politely excused myself, walking as fast as I could to the double doors at the back of the church cafeteria, picking up my pace until I was jogging to the playground where Henry was playing with my bonus dad. I knew I could find some reprieve with them. I knew it would be all talks of Thomas and dinosaurs. No divorce. No dating. No men. No eventually. 

 I sat on the swing watching Henry squeal with excitement as he repetitively slide down the slide and for a few moments I was able to escape the thoughts that at some point, I would have to navigate that deep sea with all those colorful fish once again.

But for now, I pumped my feet back and forth as the swing took me higher and higher and Henry's giggles temporarily filled the cracks in my heart.  

---

Two Years Later

A lot has changed in the world of dating since I was last on the market. It seems to me, that dating had become an interesting and complex game of "online" cat and mouse. There was a time, back in my early twenties, that I tried online dating. Back then it was only Match.com and eHarmony. The latter felt a little too intense for me at the time, and I gave Match a go. I met a few really great guys and ended up dated one with a lot of potential. However, that was right before all my surgeries and I tried to be in the relationship as I was going through everything but in the end, realized I had nothing to give at the time and ended it to his disappointment. 

This was eleven years ago and a time when online dating wasn't really something you discussed openly. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me, like I was awkward and lacked normal social skills that were necessary to meet men. Which was partially true, I'm notoriously awkward when it come to flirting and showing someone I'm actually interested in, that I am, in fact, interested in them. 

However, in just six short years since I was last on the market, online dating has become rather mainstream and culturally accepted. It almost feels expected of you when you are single. Check almost any single persons phone and it's covered with apps like Tinder, Bumble, Plenty of Fish, Match, eHarmony, OK Cupid, Chemistry.com, Christian Mingle, JDate, Farmersonly.com...and trust me, the list goes on and on. As a single person, you start to feel that if you are not connected to several of them at once, you are possibly missing someone. Even worse, you are possibly missing THE ONE. I mean, I did love living on a farm. Just saying. (I'm kidding. I am not on Farmersonly.com)

When I initially moved to San Diego, I was ten months post split and felt the self-inflicted pressure to start dating again. That and the fact that I found out my ex was in a full-blown relationship, I begrudgingly joined Tinder and Bumble. However, since I was new here, and can be somewhat awkward and shy, I tried to look at it as good way to meet new people. Even if they were all men.  Within the first few weeks I meet two really great guys and dating both of them briefly. However, both ended after just a few weeks as I came to the realization that I was absolutely not ready to date.

I had spent the better part of my first year divorced running from one thing to the next, and found myself, for the first time ever, with this new feeling of wanting to be alone. This was rather confusion for someone who spent the better part of her twenties looking for that one. And when I say better part of I mean ALL of my twenties. 

 But since I was fully committed to learning and growing from my split, I listened to the need for solitude and took a vow of celibacy and dedicated myself to the time it would take to explore my feelings. I knew dating and those apps would only cause a distraction from working this process. 

So I took the apps off my phone, put some other things I was pursuing on hold and allowed myself to just feel the wave of those, at times, obnoxious, yet necessary emotions. And it sucked. I'm serious. I now fully understand why so many people run from their pain. It's quite literally the worst, most confusing and uncontrollable feeling ever. At least with physical pain, like when you cut yourself or break a bone, you know there is an ending in site. You know that pain is brief and temporary. Emotional pain is being thrown into the unknown. There is no timeline, no guidelines, no bandaid or stitches to speed up the healing process. Just waiting, and waiting, and waiting, hoping, that eventually, you'll make it out on the other side and feel like yourself again. 

I realized though, that it is a necessary part of healthy adulting. Dealing with pain that is. I knew that if I truly wanted to show up in the world, and eventually, the dating world again healthy, I had to come to understand my habits and patterns which meant I was going to have to get down and dirty with the shits of my past. I had to come to an understanding. I had to figure out why I felt so unworthy of a healthy, loving, kind, compassionate, trustworthy, loyal, funny, and wonderful man. The man I had always dreamed of. 

This doesn't mean that I didn't get distracted by a guy or two (or three). Old habits die hard, right? As much as I wasn't looking to date, I felt like I kept getting tested to see how I was progressing. There were a couple of guys I met in "real" life during this time that I thought I wanted to get to know and see if there was any chemistry. They showed interest, one even asked me out, the old fashion way, by calling me on the phone which blew my mind. However, he ended up meeting someone else while on a vacation prior to our actual date and felt like he wanted to pursue that. This has actually happened to me way more then I care to admit. I also happen to be the girl who a guy dates right before he ends up meeting the one he marries. This may have contributed to my awkwardness over time. 

 That experience, though, brought up more of those shitty feelings. Feelings of unworthiness, of acceptance, of never being 'enough' and I again realized I needed to continue to put dating and men on hold because what I've come to discover is that when you are in an emotionally unhealthy place you exude a smell that repels the healthy ones and you end up attracting the very thing you don't want...the unhealthy male version of yourself. 

So I dove into some creative outlets and just went back to giving myself more time and allowed more of those shitty feelings to come up. This is right about the time that Adele's hit single, Hello came out. Good Lord that woman knows how to puncture my heart in the best, and worst, kind of way. The first time I heard this song I found myself sobbing uncontrollably on my living room floor. I mean, "I'm in California dreaming of who we use to be..." I'm pretty sure she wrote that song with me in mind. 

Those tears were only the beginning though. It was like an emotional detox. It was going to feel worse before it felt better. I was dealing with the pain, the pain of betrayal, of expectations never met, of loss, the death of my 'old fashion, happily ever after.' And it hurt. It hurt bad. 

So I began to explore this hurt and while talking with a friend, she made an interesting observation about something I was saying. "I really don't think it has anything to do with him anymore Amanda" she said matter of fact. "It seems, to me, that it has everything to do with a lifetime of feeling unworthy and you just keep attracting men that are going to help you perpetuate this story." 

"Yeah, I know" I said with a sign. 

I already knew this. In the deepest part of my gut, I knew that I was actually the one that needed to change. That I had spent a lifetime trying to FIND someone that would make me feel complete, make me feel whole and worthy but the reality is, Jerry Maquire had it all wrong, YOU don't complete me...only I CAN complete me. And for the first time I saw the beauty in that. Only I can heal these wounds. Only I can fill those holes with love and kindness and accepting my messy, unruly imperfections. 

So this lead me to explore more of that. I got really curious with feelings that came up. I'd ask myself WHY a lot and I would just keep digging until I got some kind of answer, even it if was painful. 

And this is when I came to realize why so many avoid the pain. We live in a world that says feeling that pain is wrong. That we have to be strong and brave and courageous and that means we have to be void of any feelings other then ones that feel good. But without the pain, I'm not sure we will ever really know ourselves fully. 

I did this for a while, exploring the pain. And then one day I finally saw a light. Well, I didn't actually SEE a light but I felt lighter. I felt like I understood why I tend seek out a man who will save me and I realized that IS NOT what I want. I don't need or want to be saved. I want a partner. Someone who has his life and who respects that I have mine, and together, we share  adventures, laughter, vulnerability, passion and love, but know that we are perfectly capable and happy exploring this alone too. 

I had a good grasp on where I was going emotionally and had worked through a lot of pain. I had finally started shedding the dead skin of my past and was ready. Ready to get curious about dating again. 

So in January, after a long discussion with my roommate about how online dating is totally and 100% acceptable now, I connected back into Tinder and Bumble. Right away I met a guy and we spent a little time getting to know each other, went on a date and he was nice but for the first time, I listened to my gut when it screamed nope, this isn't it. There wasn't Chemistry. It was good on paper but not something I wanted to pursue any further. Chemistry, the kind where you just want to spend hours talking with someone getting to know them through laughing and flirting and stories and when its time to say good-bye, you find it hard to peel yourself away because there is just so much more to know. That is what I want. 

And then I found that chemistry a few weeks later with a roamer, a gypsy of sorts, a vagabond, a free spirit and he told me right away he wasn't looking for anything. And I fell back into old behaviors of convincing myself I was fine with that. See, old habits die hard.  I should have turned away then but I was pulled in by intrigue and chemistry and the old fashion belief that anything is possible.  We spent two days together and then he drove off, taking the possibility with him.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pretty disappointed, however, one of the best pieces of advice my mom ever gave me, something she actually learned from Oprah, was that people will show you who they are and where they are right away. It's your responsibility to believe them and not try to convince and manipulate otherwise.  

The realization I took away from that experience was actually pretty wonderful. It reminded me that the partner I hope to one day meet loves and values adventure and wanderlust just as much as I do. He knows how to treat a women. He knows the difference between "hanging out" and taking me on a date. And believes that I deserve dates. He has manners and perseverance and intrigue in pursuing me. He seeks the same kind of unconventional freedom that I do yet neither one of us will want to drive away from the potential. We will both be curious enough to lean in, even just a little. 

And more then anything, what I've taken away from all of this, this entire experience, every single part, from the pain of exploring my feelings after divorce to embarking on this new socially acceptable way of meeting a potential mate, is this new and intriguing peace with being happy alone.

What once felt like a personal defect, for once feels like a blessing. I know that no one will complete me. No somebody is going to come along on his white horse and save me and give me my happily ever after. Only I can really create that for myself. 

For the first time ever, whether I'm single or in a relationship, bares no weight on my sense of worthiness. It no longer dictates whether or not I live my adventure fully, or wait for someone to do it with.  For the first time, I feel truly excited about my own future, my own dreams, my own adventure. I'm excited to continuing building a life that feels truthful to me.

I am hopeful that, at some point, I'll meet a man that compliments my dreams, my desire for adventure and laughter and comfortable mutual ease. And we will add to each others lives but all the while, continue creating our own. 

That, to me, is happly ever after. 

The End.