Is This a Date?

Frustrated. That word neatly sums up my dating life lately.

Agitated. That word neatly sums up my physical relationships lately, as in there isn’t one.

Confused. That word sums up how I have been feeling lately.

Frustrated

What is the deal with dating these days? Do you know how many times I’ve been out and I’ve asked myself is this a date? Are we just friends that are hanging out? There is no real clarification which leads me to believe it ISN’T a date. In my mind a date is when the boy is interested in the girl and it is clearly stated. Is that wrong? We also have more than a text message relationship and the girl is actively pursued. Meaning the boy makes arrangements to pick up the girl for said date, makes plans, dresses well, is a gentleman all night and he picks up the bill. The other thing he does? Makes sure she gets home ok. Recently upon realizing I was actually out on a date (we ran into some of his friends and he introduced me as “his date, Joanna”) and not just friends hanging out, I was shocked. This was a date? Fuck. I wish I had known that. He was late to meet me, cheap and a whole host of other things that I would never put up with from a romantic suitor.

When did dating turn into this ambiguous space? When did it become a solely text message world? When did dick pics become a NORMAL thing? I’ve only received one but it came out of the blue and I think it was his honest to God way of saying “looking fwd to seeing you this weekend.” Maybe he thought this would turn me on, but I’d rather watch someone vomit spaghetti than look at your dork in an unsolicited photo. I’ve asked a few friends about this and it turns out that this is a NORMAL thing. Men, if you have a camera and a penis. Just stop. I don’t care about your one eyed wonder, at least not yet.

Also, when did guys stop paying for things? When did they stop offering to buy a drink at the bar? When did they start leaving a woman on the street late at night to wait for her uber by herself and then expect that she will want to see you again? Am I simply meeting the wrong dudes? Are my standards somehow way to high?

Brace yourself. It is time for a super generalization that most definitely isn’t fair or based in any real science other than the science of my brain and collective experience, so basically, science.  I think this problem is pretty specific to American men, not all of them, but a heck of a lot of ’em. In some ways I have been completely spoiled by the European and Latin American men in my life, the ones who will carry your purse on the street so you aren’t burdened with it. “You need gas in your car? I will go out in the rain/snow/sleet/wake up earlier than you so you don’t have to rush around this morning and get it for you” type of guy.  The ones who still open doors, make sure your needs are completely met before they even think of their own, and romance the pants off of you… literally. I have an ex from Cuba where, at times, foreplay would start the minute our eyes opened in the morning and wouldn’t conclude until they closed later that night. Ahem. I might think about that sort of thing a little too much lately. VvvVVvvvvVVvvvvvv. *battery dies… AGAIN.*  I digress. Do I have some American guy friends that know how to do these things for their ladies? Yes. Is it the overwhelming majority as in some other cultures? No.

(**side note. I also feel it is important to mention these non-American men have flaws… For example, they can be quick to point out when you’ve put on weight with their brutal honesty. A friend recently pinched my side as he exclaimed “You’ve put on weight.” I wanted to be upset about it but a) it’s cultural and b) it was physical contact. So “eh.”)

Agitated

I am almost embarrassed to admit this but not really. This is who I am. So here it is, a dirty (not dirty at all) little secret. For months I have had no reason to tweeze the 1 or 2 wild nipple hairs that I’ve battled since puberty. I do however, tweeze them, or else I’d be able to floss my teeth with them and they could be used as rope swings as they hang out of bikini top at the pool. *Ahem* That is to say that my ex moved out in October of LAST YEAR and I have not had ANY sort of physical contact (read: sex, heavy petting, etc) since he moved out. I’d also like to point out that he was physically disabled the entire last YEAR of our relationship so it wasn’t like we were overly active in that department any way. I swear to God if I sneezed right now a cloud of dust like Pig Pen will slowly form around the ankle area of my pants. In my head I say the word “sex” and I literally hear crickets chirping. Spiderman squirts webs from his wrist. I do it from my lady parts.

Could I just go out and have sex? Yes, of course, I am a woman and I have a vagina. D’uh. That’s science. But I have NEVER in my life just done a casual sex thing with a random person and I am not really interested in it. I’ve tried and I have never actually been able to go through with it.  I actually enjoy sex with a person that I care for and feel connected too.

The idea of stranger sex doesn’t excite me in any way at all, unless maybe it’s this guy. I might be able to muster up some excitement for this.

This is affecting me in ways I never expected. Following my divorce in 2009 I went a good long while with no relationship or physical *ahem* activity. I don’t remember it being this agitating. I really enjoyed that time alone. I knew I needed it and I relished it. (read: I was terrified to have sex with someone new after so many years with only my husband) Lately, I feel as though I am trying to force a physical connection & looking for it in places where it probably wouldn’t ever naturally exist. “Oh yes, wait a minute Mr. Postman! Do you want to get to know each other and then have a serious makeout session right here by the mailbox is there a letter in your bag for me?

To be honest, it isn’t even so much the sex as much as it is just the physical contact. I just want a good make-out session, some good ol’ classic dry humping, a hand to grab the hair at the base of my neck and give a pull while we have a good intense kiss and even just a hand to hold as we walk down the street. I think of the dates I’ve had recently and don’t see myself doing these things with any of them. The few dates I’ve been on, eh, they’re just too timid. They can’t even call a date a date so how are we ever going to get to the dry humping part?

Confused

Am I somehow too high maintenance now? When did THAT happen? I once had a boyfriend that told me, very seriously, to “shut my pie hole” while celebrating a birthday dinner with friends and family. I didn’t break up with him (right away). In retrospect, as I think about that guy, I am glad I got myself some standards.

I am super social but I have not been open to even real flirting until recently. Currently, I am not on any dating sites or using any dating applications on my phone. (<– professional sounding sentence to negate earlier penis drawing.) I don’t work in an office or a corporate environment that has me out and about meeting people left and right. Do I have an active social life. Yes. Am I meeting the right kind of people? No.

Is this how the dating world has changed during the time I was married, divorced and then in another couple long term relationships? How much adapting do I need to do? I know how to be single. In fact, I fucking love myself (like every single night.) Maybe, I enjoy myself and being single a little too much though and I need to do some more compromising or resetting of what dating is? Should I just start yelling “get off my lawn!” and collecting cats now?

I’d love to hear from you. Are you having a similar experience in the dating world? Or are you a dude that can’t call a date a date? Want to give me some solid advice? Do it in the comments. I am all ears. *wipes dust from pants*