So quickly up to speed: I met “the one”, we dated, he left, he came back and he said..no still not ready for a relationship. My daughter and I decided as a unique possibility perhaps she could be a matchmaker for me. Here is what follows.
First she began a rigorous screening process, not allowing my picture to be shown because she said, “It can’t be about that.” I agree. That’s nice.
But then it gets serious. Her first screening and filter was set to such heights it yielded precisely one guy. It’s only been a few days and she’s had inquiries about bending the high bar which she may consider, but not yet.
She was going to meet the one guy this weekend but it got pushed back. Hmm. Let the insecurity begin. She seems fine with it. All good. But me. Now I have a problem.
I’m already anticipating rejection, failure, whatever that flaw is within me that is just not feminine enough will come through and he’ll run for the door. Just like the onion guy (I call him that due to his cooking tips), I feel rejection coming and I don’t know if I’m up to it. I was always the girl at the high school dance who asked the boys. Why? I couldn’t stand leaning against the wall and not being chosen. I don’t have the female bravado, or would it be bravada, that believes there will always be someone who will want to dance with me. Nor do I have the cool eyed patience to stand pat. I break–almost straight away. I thought, I’ll take the lead and make something happen, why wait? It never worked, really, in a good way except that I did dance.
This quality has been rewarded in every other part of life. I dove into motherhood like a doctoral candidate. I read every book, went to parenting seminars, deliberately engaged women at the playground to glean their best tips and when my daughter came along I never gave up. I tried one thing, if it didn’t work I tried 100 more. As a journalist I dug for the story. I used to say there is no such thing as no, I will get the information I need, if not today eventually. Sometimes I would work six months or a year on a single story until it was absolutely substantiated. My whole thinking was that if all else fails there is will and tenacity. There is hard work.
Not one part of that applies here.
My matchmaker is the best. If it is possible, she will do it. But, what if it is not possible? Then she feels like she failed and I know I have. I also don’t know what “it” is or what success even looks like. This is what is in my head right now.
Truthfully, I’m not desperate. I have a business I am growing and its finally taking nice shape, I have a fantastic family and amazing friends. I’m out and about often and not particularly lonely. So what’s this about?
Maybe, honestly, I just want to be chosen. I want to be at the dance, smiling in my perfect dress and be asked. I want to think that maybe it’s not up to me. But then I also want all this irrational crap like fireworks, and soul connection and some scene from a Ginger Rogers/Fred Astaire movie. I know I need to just grow up, heaven knows I’m old enough to have, yet it rattles around in me.
I don’t know. I do know that the human condition and all human beings have more in common than we have differences. If I feel this way, there are others. There are always others. I’m hoping by sharing this experience with its ups and downs something can be taken away for you…and maybe even for me.
Yes, I had hoped by this time in life I would be happily ensconced in a long marriage surrounded by comfortable things and people. I hoped I would confidently let my hair gray and I would no longer care. But it’s not what happened and I don’t think it happens for many people. It seems we are doomed to aspire until we die. So there it is.
I will continue with my matchmaker and see what happens. My make over was pushed back until next weekend and I will smile through the waxed face and new hair. I will meet the candidates and I will hope and fear and love (even if its just a little) or I will not meet anyone and go back to that book and Netflix.
One thing I know for sure; however this dance comes out–I did not lean against a wall and go home early. I’ve got that.
Please join me in telling your stories of angry onions, failed love, great advice or whatever you feel like talking about. It’s good to know we are not alone.