Adventures in Online Dating: He Was a Great Guy

But that doesn’t mean he’s MY great guy. And I’m okay with that.

A little over 4 months into online dating, I’m feeling more confident sorting through profiles. I am starting to recognize what I’m attracted to in a man’s profile. “Nate’s” profile was top notch: an attractive photo of him on the patio, dappled sun falling around him, gazing straight into the camera a glass of red wine up as if to say “Cheers to this beautiful day and to you.” It’s amazing what I can read into a profile picture. Not a selfie to be found among his selection of photos, which gives him an air of confidence that is magnetic. He definitely put some thought into choosing his photos.

His “About Me” was also well done, written from the perspective of a happy man who is living a life he enjoys while also seeking someone to share that glass of wine and new adventures with, “rotating between flip-flops, runners, and glass slippers,” a combination that sounds just right to me. The rest of his pictures fit in with what I am looking for - someone who has a sense of humor, loves to be outside, loves dogs. His profile definitely checked a lot of boxes that matter to me, giving me a sense of having some important things in common. Additionally, he appeared to be happy with his life as-is, but was looking for someone to share it with - not desperately looking, but looking. I swiped right.

Given that I saw ”Nate’s” profile on my first day of being on Bumble, I hit “Say Hello,” not knowing it would send a silly GIF of a woman in a huge Tweety Bird sweatshirt circling her hands in the air and dancing off the screen. OMG I wanted to take it back immediately, but there is not a do-over button. This was not the first impression I was going for. 

I did my best to rescue the moment, making fun of the GIF, explaining that I was new to Bumble and had no clue they would send such a goofy “say hello” image, adding that whoever selected that GIF should be fired with a funny emoji to lighten my tone. “But I’d love to know more about you. Tell me something that is important for me to know…” Remember, dear reader, that all of this is totally new to me and wayyyyy outside my comfort zone. Don’t judge me for what I share with you…;)

His response was unique and drew me in with humor and an impressive vocabulary in a pretend rant about how it is important to know that Red Lobster’s “Ultimate Feast” went up in price but that the portions noticeably decreased, “a crisis that easily transcends” everything else going on in the world. He then turned it back to me with my original question, adding a jingle from 80’s pop culture: “What important information do you have for me? Inquiring minds want to know!”

Now, while you might not find my summary of how our banter began a compelling reason to keep engaging with someone on a dating profile, for a girl who loves words, humor, and creativity, I was instantly hooked and smiling, eager to see what he would come up with next. His opening paragraph set me off into the nerdy-ist side of myself, allowing me to have some fun in our texting, seeing what uncommon words I could work into our chat.  The fun continued with witty banter going back and forth for about a week before we were able to schedule a phone call, or as he called it an opportunity to “amuse you through the fine art of telephonic conversation.”

By the time we got around to the phone call, I was somewhat looking forward to it based on the creative conversation he had demonstrated via text. And yet I was also nervous because 1) All of this is so new, and 2) I feel a little uncomfortable with strangers having my phone number. I guess I could have called him through the Bumble app, but I truthfully didn’t think of that. He texted his phone number so I called him while walking the dog. The walking/talking combo seems to be a good strategy for me. It gives me a way to dispel my nervous energy and helps me concentrate on the conversation. Plus it makes my dog happy. Win-win.

The conversation was long enough and easy enough that I said yes to meeting him for a date. Date #1 with Nate was on the calendar.

We met on a Sunday for dinner, ignoring advice I’ve received to only meet for a drink or cup of coffee. Taking the lesson from my first Bumble date, I arrived early so that I would be the one to see him coming into the restaurant, and not have to stand around nervously looking around to find him, wondering if he looked like his photo. 

When he had not shown up by 7pm, I began to wonder if I was going to experience a no show, something online dating blogs say happens all the time. My phone rang at 7:02pm and he apologized for being late, adding that he would explain more upon arrival. Per his request, I checked in for our reservation and sat back down in a seat that allowed me a good view of the door. 

He arrived about 15 minutes late, apologizing profusely and explaining that his dog had gastrointestinal issues that couldn’t be ignored until he got home from dinner. A dog owner myself, I accepted his apology…but was relieved he didn’t go into more detail.  A full explanation really wasn’t necessary, thank you. 

Fortunately he did look like his profile picture. After years of hearing about dates that don’t look like their profile, I find huge relief when they do match up. I haven’t been doing this very long, I realize, so I will just be grateful one date at a time.

As handsome as he was, I had an initial gut response that said a clear and simple “no.” Just like with my first eHarmony date, this was a sudden, quiet “knowing” not based upon anything I could understand in my head. I’ve learned that even if I don’t understand my inner voice, I have to pay attention to what she tells me. This might be one reason blogs advise short first dates, like coffee or a drink, so it is easier to make it a short evening. But I had said yes to dinner, so I’d have to live and learn. I already knew I didn’t want to go on a second date, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy a good conversation over a nice meal. 

“Because of his playful sense of humor, our dinner conversation was really quite enjoyable. But I did sense he was using all of this cleverness to protect himself from feeling vulnerable or having to make real, deep conversation.”

I often hide from vulnerability behind lots of different things, too.  Taking the focus off of myself, I’ve avoided such exposure with intellectual conversation, being a curious and reflective listener, and encouraging other people to tell their stories rather than bravely telling my own, so I really shouldn’t judge him. We all have little things we do that help us feel insulated and safe.

Nate had arrived full of what I call nervous energy, which I totally get. There’s this feeling when showing up on a date...the “I hope they like me, I don’t want to be rejected” feeling. It is so hard to brush this off and focus on what’s really going on in the present moment. I’m clear that I don’t want to carry my old approval-craving patterns into dating this time. I can see how in the past the need for acceptance led me to being insecure and hide important parts of myself from someone new—parts that I presumed a man wouldn’t like.  In a sense, I was rejecting those parts of myself even before he had a chance to see them and make his own assessment.

Dating now, at this stage of life, I not only have an increased awareness of when I’m falling into those self-defeating old patterns, but I also want to stay focused on whether or not I really like him. So another relevant question is: “do I feel like my best self with him?” I spent enough uncomfortable years feeling unable to be my authentic self in my marriage. I just can’t let that happen again.

As dinner ended, I felt anxiety rise up within me about how the date would end, and it only increased as he walked me to my car. He asked me if I wanted to see the James Bond movie Wednesday night and I said “maybe,” citing a possible conflict that night, even though I already knew I didn’t want to go. This is a common reaction with Enneagram 9’s; saying no feels like conflict so we often say yes without meaning it.  Part of me would love to accept his invitation just to avoid saying no, but that's another old pattern I’m trying not to repeat. It’s just too hard to be present and comfortable in any situation where my gut is telling me I don’t want to be there. How did I ever get so disconnected from myself? I’m so grateful for the new growth and reconnection that has come from experiences like these, even when they do make me feel anxious.

I had to give myself grace for saying maybe, and count that as progress—because I didn’t automatically say yes when what I really wanted to say was no. I will have to take baby steps to get to a place where I can stand up more confidently in moments like this. I realize that I really just don’t know what to say and how to say it clearly, kindly, and confidently. How do you say “it was so nice to meet you and thank you for dinner, but I don’t foresee a love connection…so this is goodbye?” Or “it’s not about you, it’s about me,” without sounding so trite? No question he is a great guy, but he’s not the right great guy for me. We headed our separate ways, with me promising myself that I would learn how to be more forthcoming and authentic with my yes’s and my no’s. 

The next day I felt myself tensing up when he texted to say hi. This is another sign for me to pay attention to - tension is my inner self trying to tell me something. I knew I had to be up front and tell him I don’t sense connection between us I want to pursue. I realize I could have just ignored the text, but I don’t want to be a person who does things that way. So I replied, thanking him again for dinner, and asking how his dog was doing. I then explained that I didn’t think there was a future romantic relationship between us, and therefore wanted to respect his time, energy, and feelings. I thanked him for the pleasure of his company, and wished him well.

His response was one that I wish more women could experience, as tales from the blogs I’d been reading were much different. This man was kind, mature, and complimentary without a hint of negativity. He said that he felt the same way, but tried to push through it because he thought I was infinitely awesome, but just not the right fit for him at this time. “I know you will find someone who will treat you like the great woman you are. My best to you.”

With that, I closed the books on “Nate” from Bumble. In retrospect, he was infinitely awesome, too, allowing me to affirm MYSELF, speak my truth, and realize that just because someone is a “great guy” does not automatically mean he is MY great guy.

Nate—cheers to this beautiful day…and to YOU.