Dating in Your 30s, aka HELL.

I was recently on a family vacation, when my Dad asked me if I was still on my dating sabbatical.  In his defense, I did say last fall I was going to take some time off from the Bumbles and Tinders and just relax and maybe try to meet someone “IRL.”  What I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I wasn’t so much on a sabbatical as just a really long dry spell.

Y’all, dating is HARD.  And it’s even harder when you are in your 30s.  I remember being younger and thinking I had all the time in the world to find “the one”, but anymore I feel like “the one” done ran off with someone else, like in a sad country song.

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Bumper knows

Plus, I haven’t had the best luck in the love department.  You’ll remember the post about Mr. Paleo who ditched me after I had carbs at dinner, correct?  Then there was the time I got cheated on at a Christian sports camp.  I found out by running into the guy and his actual girlfriend on my day off at a JCREW Outlet in Branson, Missouri.  I still remember the ugly bright blue flip-flops he was holding.  Sigh.  Another time I got broken up with by being told that I would be the “one that got away.”  I was like, wait, what?  We are sitting on my couch, I’m literally not going anywhere, I live here.  And finally, falling in love in my twenties only to have it end by being told I was too good at expressing my feelings.  Maybe he was right, I mean I do have a public blog.  So, needless to say, it’s been a little rocky.

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Not to say for one second that my singledom isn’t partially my fault.  I am (clearly) kind of a lot to handle, a little lot awkward – and I went through a really unfortunate phase in my past of immediately disliking anyone who was nice to me.  So there are a lot of stories I could also tell you about really nice guys wanting to date me and me running the other way like an idiot…but those are less fun.  And I also went through a great phase where I LOVED being single.  I was actually really happy with doing my own thing.  I had the cats, a place to live, food/wine, and a Netflix subscription (why yes, I’m still watching, how kind of you to ask!).  And I really LIKED spending time with myself, doing what I wanted to do.  Don’t want to do the dishes tonight?  Fine!  Laundry needs to be done but, hey, remember you have those boxers from that one guy you dated back in law school you can wear under your pants tomorrow…PROBLEM SOLVED!  You want to have cheese and crackers standing up in your kitchen for dinner, and cold pizza for breakfast?  Done, done and Done.  Man, my life was kind of set.

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True story.

But in the last few years, I have to admit I’ve been hearing that little, sentimental voice, nagging whispering in my ear, “Hey girl, don’t you want to have someone responsible’s retirement fund to live off of when you’re older?”  And you know what? Yes.  Yes, I do.  All of that adds up to me being almost 40, single as can possibly be, and kind of wondering what the hell to do next.  So, after the conversation with my father, and subsequent conversation(s) with my therapist, I decided to join Match.com.

YOU GUYS.  It’s only been one week, but things are not OK there.

Look, I’m sure it’s not all bad, and I have a friend in Tulsa who is actually having really good luck with it right now, which is part of the reason I joined, but I have come to the conclusion that what Elaine said is true: 95 % of the population is undateable.

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Honestly, I could have done this entire post in just Seinfeld gifs.

Whether I am in that 95% or not remains to be seen.

Let’s just start from the beginning.  I filled out my profile but kept it pretty simple – like, I didn’t even mention the cats – then uploaded a few pics from Facebook.  I couldn’t really figure out how to work the interface at first (bc OLD), therefore I accidentally “favorited” somebody I hadn’t even matched with or had a conversation with yet, so that was super awkward, but I couldn’t UN-favorite him, because that seemed even worse, so I just left it.  Honestly, that wasn’t even the most embarrassing thing I did THAT DAY,  so I just moved on.  A few hours later, I got a notification that someone had liked me, and I pulled up his profile:

So…is he higher or lower than Lord Butt Munch?

Darth.  Butt.  Munch.  Maybe it’s just me, but one would think that on a site where you are paying actual money, these people would either get weeded out, or offered the gentle suggestion that if you are on a dating site to meet women, maybe changing your profile name is a good idea.  Needless to say, I did not return his interest.  However, I did blast it on Instagram.

I also received about 11 messages (unanswered) from a man named Mr. Wang who inquired, among other things, how many children I would like to have and if I was interested in a long-term romantic relationship with him that may lead to marriage because given our age, he would like to build a family.  He also quite accurately pointed out that my smile was like a rainbow.  One just messaged me “Hey Blonde, what’s your drink?” (ummmmmmmmm, poison?), and another said something about wineries (thumbs up), then said he hoped my Cinderella complex wasn’t too strong (thumbs down).

Finally, there was Michael, who was a “Daily Match”.  It was love at first sight.

THE SIDEWALK ISN’T EVEN CENTERED FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

Like I said, it’s only been a week, and I’m not sure how much more I can take, but I promised my friend Catherine that I would give it the 3 months THEY MAKE YOU PAY FOR BECAUSE 1 MONTH ISN’T AN OPTION. So, I’m going to give it the old college try and even try to have a good attitude about it – at the very least it will give me good blog stories and witty banter I can employ at real people parties.  But if this first week is any indication, at the end of the day, I’m just gonna be like:

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Stay tuned, everybody.  I feel like this is going to give me a LOT of material.

Love,

Mrs. DarthButtMunch

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6 Comments

  1. …also in your 40’s….

  2. Her friend Catherine

    August 17, 2017 at 6:26 pm

    Go Kappa or go home! #collegetry #forthablog

  3. DarthButtMunch? Really? That sumbitch is nearly fifty and called himself DarthButtMunch? Is this South Park? What is happening? I am twenty-nine and single (and have chronic, debilitating social anxiety, so I don’t even have any actual real people friends) and now I am very, very afraid.

    Good luck. Hopefully you meet someone. Or at the very least, like you said, get some good stories out of it.

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