In the last few months, I have given in to the world of cyberdating. Most single LDS women who have access to the net will claim they want nothing to do with on-line matchmaking, but get them in a gender isolated ice cream binge late at night, and everyone in the room will admit to a lark through at least one "date mart." Most of us give in after a couple of those blind dates with Mr. Not-even-close. We know that somewhere in the far reaches of compuworld is a man that meets our idea of perfection. We know that if we first communicate in words and build a friendship, the epitome of manhood will fall in love with our minds and our bodies won't matter. We know that only geography has kept us from eternal bliss. We know that if we don't find a broader base of men, we will suffer from decades of late night ice cream binges!
My first steps into cyberdating were clandestine. Did I want anyone to know I had to resort to typing to have a date on my 41st birthday? I set my alarm for 2:00a.m. My children weren't to know their mother, a chaste and humble woman, was going in search of a man. At my age, staying up until 2 a.m. was harder than finding a perfect match., but I endured for the sake of my eternal destiny! Just in case one of the kids had to take care of that late night soda I had told them not to drink, I kept my cursor on the x at the top of the page ready to exit at a moment's notice. I felt almost predatory. And then I entered a world of choices.
It wasn't standing up against a wall at a singles dance like part of a short order menu. It wasn't dating roulette; accepting a date with the bishop's wife's third cousin's accountant. It was a list of men I could accept or reject at the click of a mouse. And it came so naturally. I had been comparative shopping for years. Now I could compare traits as easily as I compared the weights on cans of pineapple. This was relationship Shangri-La!
"Oh you naïve one!" the experienced ones shouted. I fell for it as I always do. I assumed if it was in print, it is true. Did I really think 9 out of every 10 LDS men worked out regularly? Do you know how many dancers there are in the church? And all but two of 350 men between the ages of 40 and 50, listed a sense of humor as the most important attribute they were looking for in an eternal companion. Looks didn't matter. Hey, as long as looks didn't matter, I was the number one choice of the vast majority of single LDS males from age 20 to 70! I posted and then tried to figure out how I was going to make time to handle all the incoming male (oops! Freudian slip!) mail.
Twelve days later, I searched the lists of men for one who might write back. Let's see, my self-esteem needed an answer so maybe this one. After all, it says here, no one has left him a message in 247 days. Hmmmmm. This one has 17 children and has been divorces 4 times. That would scare off all but the most daring of the sisterhood. Then reality slapped me in the face. No one wrote because they didn't want to sit in front of a monitor telling them they had no new mail anymore than I did. So after a short session of eeny-meeny-miney-moe, I dropped a line off to four perspective "pen-pals." Three wrote back the very next day. None of them offered right away to take me to the Hawaiian temple on their yacht while the mid-single adult choir sang "We've Only Just Begun" in the distance. They didn't really know what to say or think any more than I did. Their notes were short, but they were interesting and funny and sweet and charming and I loved it!
Now unlike the lucky ones everyone reads about in the success stories, I'm still not married "happily ever after." And all my dates come out of a different dating pool. But I have more fun writing to men who will probably never see me. I can write in my bathrobe with no pretensions. There is no holding my hand over that unfortunate blemish on my nose while trying to talk The rejection factor is minimized because I've only been rejected by an e-mail address and maybe a section of a picture from a family reunion. In some ways it's the ultimate communication. I don't have to catch them at a bad time or them me. I write and they write when it's convenient. Now I know convenience is not the way to build a lasting relationship, but maybe all of us spend too much time trying to build lasting relationships. We need to spend a little more time learning about each other, enjoying the qualities we are willing to share, and accept on-line as not a better, but a different kind of friendship. I enjoy every minute visiting with a new and interesting person who can expand my understanding of human nature and make me giggle once in a while. I'm going to take life where I can get it and enjoy it.
Oh, by the way, is anyone out there interested in a short Mormon mommy who wipes out trees when she skis, golfs with a 46 handicap, forgets where her car keys are 47% of the time, sings too loudly with the oldies station in the car, and doesn't always pick up the hunks of stuff off the living room floor before she goes to bed? If so, write me. I'm yours for time and all eternity!