Burn out is common with online dating and at some point most of us find we need to get off the apps, clean out our inboxes and take a break. It’s a thing.
In my case earlier this year, regrouping and taking a break felt not only necessary, but essential. Here I was, single, over 60 on dating apps – yep life was all going to plan.
I hadn’t been alone since my late ‘20s, and I’d been taking care of people for 40 years.
There was no time for a mid-life crisis, so I had a post mid-life one, because let’s face it, at this age, I’m past mid-life.
I got a tattoo, (very tasteful in my opinion) plumped up that upper lip a bit with some filler and did a little recreational Botox - all things I would have never considered a few years ago. I was getting my sexy back along with Justin Timberlake and “damn girl” is all I can say.
I was good – alone, feeling stable, happy and pretty uninterested in attaching to someone.
And then it happened. Someone actually showed up who was attractive, interesting and had a brain.
Of course, I didn’t want to date him.
His profile was pretty much an “A” paper – he was pedigreed and accomplished. I ignored him. Just wasn't interested and he didn't look like someone I'd be attracted to.
Six weeks later, he reached out again with a charming note that essentially said, “Hey, why aren’t we meeting? We seem to have a lot in common.”
What the hell, I write back, “Hi, must have missed this, sure you want to meet for coffee?”
He says, “Let’s talk on the phone first.”
I’m thinking, can’t we just meet and get this over with so I can move on?
I pass through the first gate by phone and we arrange to meet. I'm completely ambivalent about this person and not excited to meet him. I fit him into a day when I had two other meetings planned so he was not the main event and that felt appropriate.
We met for coffee and he was 6’5” (a plus for this 5’9” girl) not unattractive and actually quite nice. We spent a few effortless hours together exchanging basic information and testing the waters.
As we wound up the “meeting” (I finally understood the first encounter is a “meeting” and not a date) he invited me to dinner at a restaurant near my home.
I’m not sure I want to do this so I answer yes because I have no working filters.
As I drive home, I call a friend to share my ambivalence about dating in general, and this man, specifically.
It doesn’t get better. The next day as I’m leaving from a walk with a friend she asked me, “Why are you even going? I’ve never seen you so bummed out. Try to have fun.”
Yeah. Okay.
As I get ready, I'm thinking this is not worth the cost of the makeup or hair care products. But I go anyway because he seems like a genuinely decent guy, and it's a Friday night and I have nothing to do.
It was an unseasonably warm evening and we met in an outdoor, rooftop restaurant. Conversation was going fine, vibe was okay, and I'm still not sure if I'm interested. He’s a little overly familiar which is slightly unnerving.
What was really unnerving though was my face was melting off in the heat of the evening, and I felt like I was sitting in a sticky pool. A lot of inner dialogue was now underway about how to avoid him getting a good look at the swamp back there when we leave.
We leave and I do a side-move-talking-backwards to him to distract him until we can walk in parallel. It works, sort of.
Do men think like this, ever?
We grab an ice cream cone nearby and talk for two hours on a bench.
We have a lot in common. Odd things most people would not have in common, like sending our kids to the same wilderness program in Oregon.
A short kiss goodnight, and I watch him out of the rear-view mirror thinking I might kind-of like him. Bummer.
The next day my son called and asked, “Hey mom, so how was your date?”
Heavy sigh, “Well, it was actually good. I had a good time.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” he said, and I sigh and say, “Yeah, I know,” and we both laugh because just a few days earlier I had told my friends and family I was taking a break.
The man-date and I text a bit and he sends me a link to a documentary about a trek he took to Mt. Kilimanjaro. I watch it on a BART ride to SF because he has suggested that we “hike together” in Marin, on the Dip Sea trail. (I used to run and friends who were better runners didn’t finish the Dip Sea.)
I send a text, “Hey Kilimanjaro, just watched your documentary, and I am thoroughly intimidated now, but yes, I will go on a hike with you. Could we maybe just call it a 'walk' to take down my generalized anxiety?”
He asks, “Do I like romance? “
If memory serves, uh, yeah.
ME: “Yes, romance is always welcome and encouraged.”
“OK, I have a plan. Let’s meet Friday. I hope you like boats and water.”
ME: “Sure.”
“And champagne?”
Duh.
I’m thinking we are doing a Bay cruise, or he’s chartered a boat?
He sends me a text message that morning as I am getting ready and tells me there are restrooms nearby in case there’s a water mishap.
Water mishap?
Are we taking a tugboat around the Bay or going on a Gilligan's Island cruise?
Of course, he has no idea how absolutely hilarious this is to me. I’m laughing so hard I’m crying and ruining my makeup because if there is anyone who would actually have a water mishap, it would be me.
I have texted my friend to tell her this and her first response was, oh yeah, of course you would fall in the water.
I text him back, “Well, I’m sure it will be fine, and if there is a water mishap, it will make for a good story.”
Now I’m deeply concerned about a water mishap.
I was told we were going to a nice restaurant for dinner and I asked if I should wear something other than jeans, and he said, yes.
So, I’m in leather pants.
We end up in a row boat in Golden Gate Park.
This guy has significant means, or so he’s said.
I'm on the budget cruise, but he’s brought food and a decent bottle of champagne.
He is rowing merrily along as I continue to contemplate my growing phobia about a “water mishap." We are now having what I would call an interesting conversation about how he’s looking forward to getting past this “first part” (uh, you mean dating and getting to know each other?) so we can spend weekend/weeknights together. He’s also calling me his girlfriend in the East Bay and so forth.
Aren’t we precious? Might we be getting ahead of ourselves here, just an itty-bitty bit?
He also dropped a comment that if I wasn’t serious it would be good to know so neither of us waste our time.
More preciousness: an ultimatum. Super interesting dating strategy on a first date.
It’s classic ‘love-bombing’ - when someone is way too familiar, too soon.
Good news though, I manage to stay dry for the entire excursion and even disembark the row boat without a water mishap. Things are looking up for me.
We take a short hike up a hill to take in a panoramic view of the entire City beneath us where he kisses me.
He’s essentially nailing the romance part so far, not because of the row boat, but because I am a City girl, and nothing is more romantic and beautiful than my home town, San Francisco.
It continues. We go to a very nice restaurant under the Bay Bridge and it’s romantic. After dinner we walk to the SF Giant’s ballpark holding hands while talking, flirting and occasionally kissing.
This was all good stuff and he just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would have come up with all of this on his own, so I’m pretty convinced he has a dating coach to go along with his concierge doctor and the other exclusive services he’s accustomed to.
My alternative theory is that this is his signature move and every date gets this tour; both may be true.
The next date was also well done. Dude is an overachiever. We go to the SF MOMA, take an impromptu cable car ride, and walk to Chinatown for a great meal.
He calls me his “hot girlfriend” from Walnut Creek and I’m now sort of 'all-in,' telling friends he’s growing on me.
Again, bummer because I was just getting comfortable alone, free and unencumbered.
I tell a friend, “I think I may have a boyfriend.” I can’t even believe I uttered those words at my age. It’s just weird.
I head off to BottleRock with a friend that weekend and we exchange a few cute texts and a picture of us on the Cable Car. I get home and let him know I was home. Hours later he texts me and says he is glad I had fun.
I ask, “When can I see you again?”
And he ghosts me. All night.
He is a caregiver for his mother so I’m concerned that something may have happened. I leave a quick voice mail the next day saying, “Hey, just checking in. Hope all is okay. Give me a call back when you are free.”
Silence.
Let the mind games begin.
Now I think he’s dating other people, which at this point, is perfectly legitimate. Though, when we had discussed this earlier, I thought he was focused on a one-at-a-time strategy.
He tells me his mother had an ingrown toenail and he was at a medical appointment with her all day to address it. This exceeds ‘the-dog-ate-my homework’ excuse by billions of light years.
I’m a total head case now.
ME: “Morning, I’m heading out for my golf round so send me some good vibes. Wondered if you have time to get together this weekend? Would love to see you again.”
Six hours later:
“I hope your golf game was enjoyable…This weekend, I am tied up with a Medicare presentation on Saturday and a 12-mile hike in Bolinas on Sunday with the hiking club…”
Good people, when a man prioritizes a Medicare seminar (which are on demand and about an hour long) over seeing someone who he called his girlfriend, this is not just a sign. It’s a truck with a megaphone driving down my block amplifying: "He’s not into you."
A Medicare conference over a date with me? That was low.
And when he couldn't say or write back something like, “Hey, I’m so sorry I can’t see you this weekend because I have other stuff to do but let’s find a time next week to get together,” just walk away girlfriend.
I don’t respond.
For five days we are in “the silent treatment” of the texting world and I’m wondering what happened. Why would you call someone your girlfriend, discuss future plans, and then just dump them?
I tell my hairdresser and beautiful soul about this situationship and my confusion. She knew my husband well and has endured my dating stories throughout the year. She laughs and says, “He’s the golden bachelor. This is just like the show where they go on extraordinary dates and the bachelor makes grand gestures, then decides if you are the one and gives you a rose. You didn’t get the rose girlfriend.”
I have never watched this show but have read about it and it seems like an excellent theory.
As I continue to ruminate on the many things he said and didn’t follow through on, I decide to close this one out and block him.
ME: “Hey Kilimanjaro, wanted to wish you all the best on your continued journey to stop kissing us “frogs” and find your princess. (a reference to a prior conversation) I don’t need to hear what changed for you with me because it may sting and I’m in a good place. But, I really think ghosting-out sucks. So, sending you sincere and truly positive vibes. Good luck on your dating journey."
He writes back:
“Claire, I’m not ghosting you and I really enjoyed the dates we spent together. I really mean that! You are a wonderful person and I hope you find what you are looking for closer to home…”
I wished him sincere and positive vibes and he wished that I find someone in a five-mile radius? We lived 35 miles apart, a commute that people do daily.
Really? You've just told me everything I need to know. I am geographically undesirable and not worth the effort.
Cool. Got it.
I get another text, “I’m really sorry that I didn’t get a chance to talk with you in the last several days and that you felt ghosted. As I mentioned, I was really busy last weekend and the 12-mile hike nearly crippled me on Monday into Tuesday. You are really sweet and very personable and as I said, I really enjoyed going out with you on those four dates…I hope you find someone closer so that the commute to see each other is easier…I’m really sorry if I hurt you…”
Remember when I was great? Now I’m sweet, and personable. I wonder what else I will become?
Maybe a first-class bitch.
And yes, I know we had four good dates. I can count; the emphasis on four did not go unnoticed. Did writing that make you feel like a good guy?
Stupidly, I write back:
“Hey there, thanks for this. I’m okay. You are great and I really like you. Distance is not a deal breaker for me at all, but maybe for you. Can I call you tomorrow?”
I decide this is absolutely ridiculous, block his number and did not receive a response.
I didn’t call.
The next day I am beginning to feel slightly relieved. He was not the right man for me. We did not vibe in a way that brought me joy. What he did do is make me remember how dating can make you feel insecure and for a minute, what it felt like to have male attention and be pursued.
Objectively, he’s a decent guy and would be considered “a catch,” albeit a bit turgid and emotionally flat. But, he was also duplicitous with the love-bombing act, and it really confused me.
The wonderful cocoon of texting, where you don't have to confront anyone face-to-face, breeds bad and disrespectful behavior.
When that happens, and there is no real closure, it causes a lot of brain gymnastics. Did he meet someone else? Does he give everyone a three – four date shot and then decide yea or nay? Did I say or do something to cause him to recoil/retreat?
In the end, the facts remain. Medicare won the day, as did the Bolinas hike and whatever other antics transpired after that.
For me, it was another set of experiences and I felt courted, which was nice.
I learned more about what to watch for and how to manage myself and my emotions and to trust my gut.
However, should any future Golden Bachelors show up, I will be immediately directing them to any available Medicare conference.