Getting to Less
In my daydreams, I meet with my ideal woman. This doesn’t happen very often. I’m able to conceptualize her; sometimes, I feel like I’ve met her already, and other times she’s an amalgamation. It’s like the female version of a princess fantasy, yet reversed for me as a man.
She’s short, curvy, spontaneous, shockingly intelligent, wise, funny, and faithful. We cook together, share the responsibilities and make jokes or make love all night. We dedicate ourselves to overcoming our challenges together. We have excellent, honest, and vulnerable communication. We trade music that makes us feel supernatural. She’s an exquisite plain Jane, looking gorgeous without ever having to wear makeup (yet does if she so feels). She’d look fabulous if all she had to wear were a garbage bag.
Pushing my mind to imagine the scenarios and activities we’d share seems easy. Conceptualizing that she exists takes a lot more work, and this visualization is accompanied by hundreds of dating failures for me.
Many of my clients and a few of my friends suggested I should do a dating blog or a YouTube channel dedicated to offering advice on how to succeed. Even though I have fine-tuned much of my approach and learned enough to garner an honorary Ph.D., I don’t feel qualified to tell people how to succeed at finding a partner. I do feel overqualified to share my failure, and that typically isn’t a story many people want to read. I’m going to share it anyway.
I started dating shortly after my divorce over two and a half years ago. I felt it was appropriate and that I was ready, given that the marriage had been disintegrating for years; she had moved out and moved on without me knowing. When I found out and exited, it was somewhat exhilarating to think I’d discover something that would work.
Most of the resistance I met then was because, as I was flatly told,
“You haven’t been divorced long enough.”
During the early days of the pandemic, no one truly knew what was taking place with Covid or what would become of anything. All of our futures were uncertain. Nonetheless, I made my way onto sites like Bumble and Hinge, thinking that, at a minimum, it would take my mind off the pain of…