Dating After Divorce Continued…

              Previously, I mentioned how I made the decisions around divorce and dating. How I described the thought of dating again scary, terrifying and overwhelming to anyone that would listen. Dating should be fun and exciting, exhilarating when done right. After divorce, it was a Six-Flags rollercoaster ride of emotions spurred on by a mix of sex, wine and anxiety attacks. There were three stages of reintegration.

Stage 1. Get out of the house

Stage 2. Lust and discovering my desires

Stage 3. Lust, Love and Stuff

Most people might not think that Stage 1 would be all that difficult but it really was for me. I found that after my divorce, along with a PTSD diagnosis, I also suffered from social anxiety. I still do. There is this wild fear that I am awkward, or often behave inappropriately. I worry I am an embarrassment to others and myself. Now I know there have been occasions where I have been an embarrassment, but the large majority of the time I have been told I am charming, charismatic, easy to talk to, funny and all-around good company. This fear of my behaviour in mixed company made “Getting out of the house” a challenge. I started dating like most single moms do now, from the comfort of my sofa, in my leggings with a glass of wine. I downloaded the apps (just three really: Plenty of Fish, match.com, and Bumble, in that order). Answered all the questions. Wrote a little blip about myself and uploaded a picture I had my mom take of me earlier that day.

Not the one mom took…

Not using a picture of myself 5 years younger was very important to me. I never wanted anyone to say “you don’t look like your picture”! The first night was all about window shopping. I was not sure I could even look at a man and think about attraction or feelings. Quickly discovered there was no problem there. It was very easy to swipe left or right, impersonal and easy. In other words, it was prefect. Soon after that, flattering text chats and not long after, I had agreed to meet some man for coffee. Divorced, 2 young kids, business owner, kind of flirty, attractive but not really my type. At this point I didn’t trust myself to know what my type was, I just wanted to talk and try on a man. See if I enjoyed their company. This man was coffee and then dinner and then I agreed to lose his number. I did this kind of romantic job interview style dating for a while. I truly can’t remember when it stopped being about appetizers or an excuse to wear something nice. Thank god for that social experiment stage though, it allowed me to narrow down what I found attractive about men. It also allowed me to practice asserting myself and being clear about my intentions.

Stage 2 required more wine. This is a joke and a fact. I was horny. Hugh Hefner said it best, “Good girls like sex too” so don’t get me started on overworked, tired, guilt- suffering moms. I wanted to be touched and was terrified of being touched all at the same time. I had a million questions playing on a continuous reel. Questions like: Am I a good kisser? How will I feel with a new man touching me? Am I sexy or can I fake sexy? What if they are turned off by my stretch marks or the fact that my boobs hide in my arm pits when I lay on my back? Shaved, landing strip or trimmed? (Disco bush was never an option). Do I know how to pleasure a man? Do I know what brings me pleasure? When did I start using the word pleasure? I was driving myself crazy. I remembered watching a show where two friends were talking, the one was spinning much like I was and spewing her insecure internal dialog to the other. That friend unapologetically interrupted with “Hey, you need to be nicer to my friend.” This hit me, I needed to be a better friend to myself. What if my best friend was sitting with me asking all these questions? I started systematically answering what I could. Am I a good kisser? I have been told I am. Moving on. How will I feel being touched? That can not be answered in advance, I would have to wait and see. Am I sexy? Well, that is relative and individual. I decided to focus on what I found sexy and what turned me on instead. Then there was the stretchmarks and shy boobs, these insecurities ran deep. Part of me was very aware that men found me attractive and that everyone has stuff they wish they could change. Another part of me wondered if Spanx yet developed a full bodysuit with realistic nipples and easy access openings? As for landscaping, I decided I spend more time with this area so I would do what suited me. The pleasure, pleasure, pleasure stuff for me got washed away by, of all people, my mom. She turned to me one day and pointed out that I first figured out what went where as a teenager and must have mastered it cause most days, I was running on little sleep thanks to the sexual aftermath still sleeping in cribs down the hall. Thanks mom. Questions answered, I was ready to pursue sexual relations post divorce.

This is where the rollercoaster really picks up some speed and turns a corner. I was excited and scared. I remember the first time. I would compare it to a surprizing out of body experience. There had been a few dates and I let him come to my place while my kids had a sleep over at my mom’s. It was strategic. I wanted to be in my own environment where there would be no chance of an “I can’t find my bra moment.” At my place I could count on finding it eventually if lost. Among other reasons. He brought me wine and I gladly drank the entire bottle. Full disclosure, I had drunk two glasses earlier while cleaning and getting ready for him to come by. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, with a play-by-play commentator in my head. The commentator was very impressed by the attention and interest being paid to me, and I would have to say so was I. Truth is, mom was right. I did have it worked out as to what went where. The biggest surprize for me had nothing to do with orgasms or preferred positions. It was the after-sex check in about how I was feeling and how cared for I felt. It surprized me so much I had more questions and I asked him every single one. For the rest of this stage, I experienced all the fear, all the anxiety, all the fun, and exhilaration. The emotional relationship was still just about the one I was having with myself. The time allowed me an escape from my single mom stress, to just be a woman. It also gave me funny sexy escapades to brag about to my friends over drinks.

Stage 3: The final stage of my dating after divorce journey began because I realized lust was not enough for me. I wanted lust, I wanted affection, I wanted wine and long conversations but I wanted that man to have real and deep feelings for me. I found myself at one point in my lusty dating stage confusing what was happening as feelings, when in truth I just enjoyed that persons attention, physical touch and the excitement. I had to decide what I really wanted. I have always wanted what my grandparents had, so I spent some time thinking about their relationship’s impact on me.

While I was ironing all this out in my head, I went on a little girl’s trip with a friend whose life mirrors a lot of mine. One day after trying to hike and instead drinking wine and grabbing lunch, she said something I will never forget. She told me that she was not interested in dating to date. She felt her marriage robbed her of time and she was not giving anymore up freely. She wanted love. She wanted the kind of love that spoke to her soul. She wanted to meet someone and enjoy everything about them and treasure every moment together. That once she had that in her life, she would need it to survive.  She wanted to fall in love so deep with a man and have a man fall for her their dreams wound around each other.  Therefore, she was settling for nothing less.

That day as she spoke, I remember thinking that was crazy talk. That those were unrealistic fantasies. In hind sight, she was describing the love my grandparents shared for 68 years of marriage. The cliché would describe them as two sides of the same coin. That’s garbage, she is fiery and private and not very affectionate at all other than with him. He was even tempered (for the most part), extremely out going and the first in line to give you a hug or a hand to hold. But they worked, not in the opposites bla bla bla kind of way. They were true partners in life. They took care of each other. Every decision they ever made after saying “I do” had been made with their relationship as top priority. When she hurt, he hurt. His dreams were hers. Her triumphs were his. They were a unit, a family, their souls desires were wrapped around each other. Their fights were epic because the passion between them was intense. They were a real-life Nicholas Sparks novel. I, however, was settling for sex and feelings. More to the point I had made the decision no sex till there were feelings. Even at this stage I was still trying men on like hats. Sorry fellas. At least I was until I wasn’t…

Their

love spanned 68 years

It took one date with my now husband to change everything. I had told him via text that I was not interested in a physical relationship of any kind until there were feelings involved. He didn’t run. In fact, he told me he admired my boundaries, (Do real grownups talk like this?). The lead up to that date was like every other one for me. 2 glasses of wine while getting ready. Extreme anxiety regarding his expectations and my awkward behaviour and at least 3 outfit changes. Then we met. He looked exactly like his profile pictures, he was outgoing and easy to talk to but seemed a bit nervous. The thing that struck me was that I felt at ease right away. It was like he was someone that had been in my life for longer than I could remember. It is cheesy and will sound like crazy talk but he spoke to my soul. I started to care for him more and more with every passing moment. That date went from dinner and drinks to a quick walk over to an arcade where we ended up just sitting and laughing and telling stories about our lives. We had gotten so wrapped up in each other we never noticed all the other patrons leave and the staff begin their closing duties. There we were enjoying everything about one another, treasuring the time. We never noticed 6 hours go by. To be clear, this is how the next five dates went. It started to be a joke between us that our dates were more like little escapes from our lives. Upon reflection that is exactly what I think falling in love with someone should feel like, like a blissful escape from all the responsibility, from the grind and the hustle, and the endless searching.