Unsurprisingly, last year’s good intentions are littered along the highway that was my life last year. It is very common for anyone who makes a New Year’s resolution to have them fail. About the only thing I can say with any positivity is: I did try. I had two intentions last year. The main one was to find a partner. I have this vision of a great partner who is funny, intelligent, and kind. But after going on a few disappointing dates and then dating the same guy for several months, now I am not sure I even want a partner anymore. Maybe I’m grieving the loss of the dream, not the dream itself.
The question is, should I bother trying again?
Right now it feels as if the letdown is too disruptive to my well-being. I mean, how many ways can I find out that a potential match is not a great fit for me before I give up, Chumbawumba notwithstanding? It’s taken me a complete bathroom renovation / makeover and several months to get my equilibrium back after this last failed relationship attempt.
On Dating
First, I think I’m too willing to see the good in people to date well. It didn’t take me but a few weeks and I fell right back into my pattern of accepting some really crappy behaviour. I made excuses for rudeness, bad temper, poor judgement, and a lack of hygiene. I wish I was joking. In the world I’ve been dropped in, even brushing your teeth every day is not a given.
On one hand, this makes me feel sad. On the other? I am an amazing catch as I not only brush but floss, too!
I even justified someone who could not take a joke. They were offended at my teasing playfulness. I apologized and stopped joking about anything, just in case. The give and take of this teasing is something I had always enjoyed in a relationship. It’s a great way to find out more about your partner, often in a fun, silly way. I was sad at the loss of it. Imagine going through life, never being able to joke about your partner’s lack of concern about being seen in their Speedo? I felt the poorer for it, like being with someone who didn’t know who Bon Scott was.
Bon Who?
Sigh. He didn’t know that, either. I told myself to grow up and grow out of my “rock girl” phase. That I was old and should give up my Doc Martens and ask for a blanket to cover my knees when I ate my soup.
It was with no small amount of relief that I was able to break up with this guy. The future with him looked bleak and cold. No laughter, no music, no banter.
Now I’ve had some terrible dates. But what this guy did to cause me to end it was another low for me. An unbelievable accusation that I had no response to.
What?!
Have you ever been accused of doing something that you could not come back from? Something so outside of your realm of existence that you could not formulate a reply? Now that I think about it, this question said more about him than it did me. No wonder I felt that whatever I said in defense would not be believed. He had already decided that I was lying.
So this guy, who I had been dating for almost three months, called me up one day, shortly after we had come back from a holiday together. After letting me go on chirpily for a few minutes, he said he had been cleaning out his porn collection and he had a question for me.
I was unnerved at this point. Now I had asked him about porn before and he’d told me, having been single for a long time, of course he watched porn. This is something I find disturbing but…it’s a guy thing so I leave it alone. I was ready for any question from him – although I was a bit uneasy. Where was this going?
I Beg Your PARDON?!?
He then said he’d come across a video in his collection and the woman in it looked exactly like me. In a porno, mind you. Me. In a porno.
I said, “What?!” He repeated the accusation in his serious, unwavering manner. I protested – panicked – said I’d never done anything like that…said I didn’t even like to be naked in front of anyone. Reminded him that on our recent vacation I’d changed into my pajamas in the bathroom. Then I started to stumble over my words, my mind racing. He believes this! Of me! I realized that this guy doesn’t even know me. And obviously, I do not know him.
Finally I grew quiet. Then I thought about my past – could someone have filmed me without me knowing? Drugged me?
I told him what I was thinking and said that I thought I needed to get the police involved. He then said quickly, “You can’t see your face – your head is cut off.”
What.the.hell.
At this point I was sobbing and not thinking clearly. I ended the call. And when I could talk again, the relationship.
In hindsight, I believe he was lying completely about the video and only wanted to see if I would admit to being in a porno.
Later when I told my cousin, she said he must have been joking. I told her that he was not – that he never joked about anything.
He was very insecure and this manifested itself in this bizarre accusation. In one way, I was a bit flattered. I’m 30 pounds overweight – probably even more by porn standards. Who would even want to see me naked?!
This Is So Not Me
What makes this even crazier is that I’m the last person who would be in a porno. I literally have a fear of being naked in front of others. I was rarely naked in front of my former husband – and I’d known him for thirty years. We liked the lights off. Certainly I didn’t walk around the house naked – ever. Not even when I was skinny!
I won’t even wear revealing clothing. Showing cleavage makes me feel bare. Having a skirt above my knees? I don’t do it. Sleeveless blouses or dresses make me feel too exposed.
When I was 15 and visiting a hippie island, a whole group went skinny dipping. Everyone except me, that is. I was teased for insisting on wearing a bathing suit. It was only when I was 48 that I threw caution to the wind – and my clothing – and jumped into a lake butt naked. Maybe someone filmed that brief few seconds…. Could that have been my 15 minutes of fame?! Am I out there somewhere, my head cut off, jumping naked into a lake?
It really begs the question: how did he recognize me? Beyond creepy.
So ended my brief three month relationship experiment. I almost want to date again to see if it can get any worse than this.
When some single woman you know tells you it’s bad out there, do me a favour. Believe her.
