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Baggage, Idiosyncrasies and Personality Defects

Boxing Gloves (courtesy xedos4)

The honeymoon is officially over. We had our first serious disagreement. It could have been tragic, had things not turned around.

Things had been going well between Frog Prince and me. When things go well, it’s, as some might say, nothing to write home about. So, I haven’t been blogging. Who wants to read about all hearts and flowers? Boring!!

I’m blogging now because things have just gotten interesting.

FP and I were in what people call the ‘honeymoon’ phase of our new relationship. We got along well, were really into each other and the hormones kicked in. Perfectly natural. But, this is not to say that I have been ignoring my gut when noticing things that may indicate FP’s suitability as a good match. And, I have discovered a few things. We do ourselves a favor by not having blinders on when entering into a new relationship. When a red flag comes up, pay attention to it!

I have a saying I like to use often: We all have baggage; it’s all in how you carry it. Everyone has personality defects and idiosyncrasies; it’s a matter of how they match up – or not – with a potential partner. I am in constant observation of FP’s idiosyncrasies and personality defects as well as attempting to understand what his emotional capacity is in terms of previous relationships (aka, baggage). Up until the last few weeks, I’ve found no flaws. To be honest, I was somewhat relived to find that FP wasn’t perfect. This was a way to know that I wasn’t dreaming or blinded by emotions.

My desire to be with FP practically overrode everything else in my life. We had been seeing each other nearly every day. My stress at having to scramble to find work and his stress at having to care for his dying mother conspired to draw us both together, desperately grasping at each other in an attempt to confirm that there was something in this world other than our own troubles. I felt like a drowning person, holding on for dear life.

FP had been absolutely wonderful to me. He’s been great with the dogs, takes me out to dinner and does a lot of little things that show me he cares. He is very communicative about the state of our relationship, quite the opposite of most men. FP is also a great story-teller. He can weave a trip to the dentist into an entertaining story, full of adventure. He is an observer of people, and absorbs information about someone that most people would just forget. Mannerisms, accents, facial expressions – he gets a kick out of playing the weaving and bobbing movements of Captain Jack Sparrow in public, just to see me react. He can read my face in an instant, detecting the slightest mood change.

Early on, he expressed his concern about my safety, being a single woman in a small town. He would ensure that I kept my deadbolts locked, etc. Knowing I have two big black dogs that, despite looking big and scary, would rather greet an intruder than bite him or her, he offered me one of his pistols to keep at home just for protection. I had been raised in a family of police officers (father, uncle and grandfather and almost became one myself) and know my way around just about any firearm, but initially, I balked at this. It took a bit of cajoling on his part to get me to accept his assistance.

He would call before coming over to see if there was anything he could pick up at the store for me. He would often show up with a bag of goodies – wine, bottled water, rice (we both go through a lot of rice, and I cook it often for us), etc. He went over my yard with weed killer over a few weeks, because I got hit with a nasty case of poison oak rash. He would take out my trash. On the surface, this was wonderful, and I really appreciated it. But, over time, I began to feel resentful.

Even as I desired to be with FP, I became short of temper. His visits were tolerated; his stories became tedious and I would tell him to get to the point. He would ask me what I thought of this or that, and I would snap out an impatient – and often negative – answer. I became argumentative and contrary – it seemed to him that he could not say anything or do anything to make me happy. And, he was right. When he left after his visits, I would feel sullen and angry. I’m sure he felt confused as all hell.

One evening, we were sitting on the sofa, and after I had bitten his head off for an innocent question, he came right out and said, “I don’t like what’s happened recently and I don’t like the direction that this relationship is going. If you want out, just say so.”

{Insert sound effect of vinyl record being badly scratched}

Oh, my God! I thought to myself. What am I doing? I’m watching this man get ready to walk out the door and not come back. Guilt and shame burning on my face, I had to take a deep breath – and look inside me for the answer.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, per se. But, my reactions to his actions needed defining. I had to understand what was going on in my head to figure out how to fix this.

I realize now that it was my sense of independence that felt threatened.

About independence: I am fiercely independent, and since I was a kid, prided myself on being able to pick myself up by my bootstraps without anyone’s assistance, no matter the obstacle. This is a philosophy ingrained in me over a period of decades, so it’s not easy to relinquish any part of that to accept help from anyone. Although an admirable quality, you can call this a character flaw, because it can serve as a barrier in a relationship, as well.

I also tend to be impatient when exchanging information. After so many years on computers, I have come to understand that I am like one in some ways. I process information much faster than some (including FP), and I get frustrated when someone takes too long to get to the point. Another personality defect – potentially very damaging.

I had been subscribing to newsletters from a number of relationship experts, including Rori Raye, who has published a number of books and videos on making relationships work. I even purchased one of her videos, Modern Siren (I recommend at least getting her emails and/or reading her blog). I hadn’t looked at the video since my parting of ways with Frog Two, but I realized at that moment, as FP was looking at me with a mixture of hurt and anger on his face, that I needed to quickly dive into the knowledge I gained from those DVDs. If I did not resolve this, I was looking at yet another failed relationship.

It seemed like an eternity, but in the space of just a few seconds, I was able to figure out what was bothering me. I needed to tell FP in a way that was non-confrontational, yet expressed my feelings. I placed my hand over my heart, to ensure that I was speaking from my heart without accusing or blaming FP for anything, and taking a deep breath, I spoke.

I realized that I was beginning to feel stifled, smothered, I told him. His presence, although I felt I could not go without it, was beginning to feel suffocating. Unconsciously, I was pushing him away. I expressed my feelings, and tried to help him understand my own fierce sense of independence.

To my intense relief, he countered with an admission that he thought he might be smothering me a bit, but felt he could not help himself and wanted to do everything he could to help me. He wanted to be involved in the relationship. His first marriage encouraged that kind of ‘take charge’ behavior from him, as well as the caretaking of his mother. He said that it was like second nature to him to just do what he felt needed doing. And, his desire to see me overrode his thoughts that he might be smothering me.

Wow – a breakthrough, and it took almost no effort! He understood! He promised that he would back off on the smothering and automatically doing things for me. I promised that I would be more upfront about feeling smothered and have more patience with him telling stories.

But sometimes, information needs sharing – and without all the trips down interesting, yet unimportant side roads. Sometimes, he’ll go off in a direction that has nothing to do with what he was speaking about, and my patience (or lack thereof) in obtaining important information when necessary, gets a workout. He admitted that he tends to wander off on a tangent sometimes. I explained that it was like asking him to paint a door, but then he ends up painting the entire neighborhood. So, we have devised a loving way to get him back on track, if needed: “Paint the door, honey,” is all I need to say in order to get him back on point – and it works beautifully!

Since that day, we have gotten back on track in our relationship, and I’m feeling good about the direction we’re going. So does FP. I expect that there will be more disagreements, maybe a rehashing about being smothering or my impatience at getting to the point. But, I believe we have the tools to address issues such as this in a way that is not accusing or hurtful – if I can just keep myself from blurting my thoughts without thinking and feeling first.

More later,

~SA

100 Days

(Editor's note: This was originally posted in my journal on one of my dating sites on May 14, 2011. I didn't post it here at that time, because of certain timeline issues, but now feel that it's appropriate.  It's been slightly edited for clarity. JR: I have you to thank for the song mentioned.)

I am learning a lot of things about myself in this most recent period of dating (since I moved to NC in January). Things I had not taken into consideration before, but had been patently obvious. I have read websites, books, blogs and articles on dating and relationships, and each has its advice and wisdom. Some things I don’t agree with, but some things I have come to realize the truth of. For example, it takes time to determine whether a certain individual will make good relationship material. On the surface, it seems like a “duh” statement – but, I’ve seen too many folks (including myself) jumping right into a committed relationship without really getting to know each other.

My fear (and in my experience, the reality) is that what was first full of chemistry and a whole lotta lust will dull – and perhaps sour – in short order. I would not wish this on anyone, but having experienced this very phenomenon so many times, I have determined that I will not skip down that road blindly again. It’s not easy to resist the temptation of putting one's life on hold and making future plans concerning someone with whom after a few dates, seems so beautifully matched. But, recent experience tells me that I must resist. My heart is on the line, you see. This is why my Frog Prince will remain nameless until I am as sure as I can be concerning his long-term potential.

Some experts say that waiting at least 90 days or so before making a determination on the suitability of the object of your affection as a “keeper” may save one a great deal of pain and frustration. Which brings to mind a song I recently heard. Enjoy.

The Frog who Could be Prince

I am down to one current Pond resident. I had actually planned to slow the parade o’ frogs for a time, simply because dating in this way is exhausting and I just wanted to lay low for a while. Some folks have told me that as soon as one stops looking, the right one comes along. Who’d have thought that my experience would be that close to the mark? Who’d believe that this frog – the only remaining frog in my Pond – would just pop up on the radar by happenstance and actually end up with tons of Prince potential? Talk about serendipity!

Okay, so let me back up a little. Several weeks ago, on one of the online systems I use, this man had put my profile in his ‘favorites’ list. This is a common occurrence. Generally when that happens, most people once notified would simply not acknowledge it. My thinking is that the favorites setting isn’t just for the convenience of the person selecting the ‘favorite’ – it’s also for creating interest in the person having been selected as such. It can be used as a great opener for further communication. I choose to take advantage of such attention by checking out the man’s profile to see if there is some interest on my end. If I am interested (or even if I’m not), I will message the other person, thanking him for making my profile a ‘favorite.’

This was such a day. Once I was notified that my profile was selected as a favorite, I checked his profile. To be honest, I didn’t think we’d be such a match. His profile indicated that we had some things in common, but that there were some core differences. Plus, his profile said he was in the entertainment business and had been for more than 25 years. Nothing wrong with that, but what would I have in common with someone who does that sort of thing, I ask you? According to his pictures, he was very good-looking – almost too good-looking. My knee-jerk thought was, “Why the hell is he making my profile a favorite? He probably has tons of women groveling at his feet!” I initially had him pegged as a ‘player.’ Add to that, our philosophies seemed quite divergent. Oh, well, I thought to myself – I should at least be polite and acknowledge the action. So, I messaged him to say thank you. I do this for nearly everyone who makes my profile a ‘favorite,’ so this is not out of the ordinary. But, I don’t expect a reply. However, he did reply saying that he would love to meet up sometime. I replied positively in an non-committal way (I was truly getting tired of this string of “first-and-only” dates), but decided that if he openly asked for a meeting, I would comply. Well, sure enough, he did, and we communicated over the course of nearly a week to arrange a meeting over coffee.

I wasn’t optimistic in the least. To be honest, I determined that this frog would be the last to play in my pond for a while. I was simply tiring of playing this game and felt the need to hang up my lily pad to reset (perhaps just a couple of weeks, but I really needed a break). I had already hid some of my profiles on other systems in an effort to reduce the traffic of frogs jumping in and out of my pond. This particular system was to be among the last that on that list.

In a previous post, I had described my first date with Frog Eleven, and it was everything I claimed. We have since seen each other several times over the last month and it seems to be getting better and better. As it turns out, we have a lot of things in common, not the least of which is an affinity for dogs. And, those core things I thought were opposite of my own beliefs, turns out are not as far from my own philosophies, after all.

About Frog Eleven

Frog Eleven is polite, considerate and very, very charming. About 6’1” and 190 lbs, he is large and strong. In his prime he has weighed as much as 240 lbs, I’m told. A former owner of two fitness centers, he still has an athletic build, complete with broad shoulders and powerful arms and legs. His face shows a bit of careworn age, but when he smiles, the years seem to erase magically and a boyish look takes over. For an older man (he is almost 10 years my senior), I find him to be delightful eye candy. The hair on his head is not colored as I had once assumed; I noticed the gray sprinkled among the thick, sable brown locks once I got close enough. His strong Southern accent was difficult for me to adjust to at first, but has since grown on me. Bright blue, smiling eyes reflect his good humor. He has a calm demeanor that is somehow comforting when I am around him. He is friendly and social to everyone (from store clerk to maitre d') he comes in contact with. He is an equal-opportunity charmer!

He speaks little of his career in the entertainment business, but what he has told me is rather interesting – but not all that impressive. He’s actually semi-retired, and since moving to NC to care for his mother, he’s not been doing much work. It’s really not a big deal – he is far from the glitz and glamour of those in the A-list, although he has been known to attend gatherings of those on that list. I liken his career to those of most people in the entertainment industry – I would guess that 90 percent of them are small-time. He is among that group. Celebrity, for the most part, has never impressed me anyway, so it doesn’t matter what he does, in my opinion. I’ve rubbed shoulders with many high-profile figures, celebrities and politicos in my time, and discovered that they’re all human – just like us. To his credit, Frog Eleven shows all of the charm – and none of the ego or haughtiness – of some in that field of work.

During his first marriage, he raised Bulldogs (back then, they were called English Bulldogs). He understands and loves dogs, although he hasn’t had any for some time. We have talked at great length about this common interest, and have found we share the same philosophy on health issues, care and training. Thank goodness, no issues there! He was curious about my dogs, and interested in hearing about my plans for the future concerning them. He looks forward to attending dog shows with me.

He was soon given the opportunity to prove his feelings and philosophies about dogs. A couple of weeks ago, Merlin, my dog, appeared to have a back issue. Frightened, I made a same-day appointment with the local vet, but I was concerned about how to get him in the car. I had thought to call my girlfriend, who is smaller than I am – we would have a very hard time trying to get a 140-lb dog into my little car if he could not get up on his own. I made the decision to call Frog Eleven for help. To my surprise, he finished what he was doing as soon as he was able, and made his way over to my house. As luck would have it, Merlin began to improve by the time we took him to the vet, so physical help was not needed. However, I was very worried, so Frog Eleven went with me for moral support. He was just what the doctor ordered! His calm presence, as well as his arm placed protectively around my shoulder, was a balm and kept me from freaking out. Thankfully, Merlin’s issue was not orthopedic; he had a urinary tract infection. Antibiotics were all that was needed. I was relieved and happy and got lots of hugs from Frog Eleven. Afterward, he had the chance to interact with both dogs at my home, and Boston, my girl, is quite taken with him. The feeling is mutual, by my observation. He loves the dogs and they completely return the favor.

Since that day, Frog Eleven and I have seen each other frequently. Since he was the only frog in the Pond at the time, we were exclusive by default. However, recently, we have made the conscious decision that exclusivity is what we both want, and so we are going forward with that in mind.

Going Forward

Here, one might think that I will have nothing more to blog about, now. Wrong! Although it would seem that I have met my Prince, I have told him that I will not consider ourselves as being in a committed relationship for at least three months, perhaps longer. So, until we pass that marker, I will be blogging occasionally about how our relationship is developing. I am cautiously optimistic, but cautious all the same. I can only be myself. And hope.

So, now comes the dilemma: What should I call him now? Is he still Frog Eleven? Or, is he Potential Prince? Your input is welcome.

I’ll keep you posted,

SA

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Breaking Up is Hard to Do

This post will go over some of my experience with rejection – both aspects of receiving and giving. It’s never easy either way, but if you’re going to dive into the frog pond, you have to deal with this at some point. You can’t determine the suitability of someone just by email and phone calls – you have to meet them.

Since the concept of this blog began, I have met nearly a dozen men. For many of these meetings, I know within 30 minutes whether there is that “click” or not. For the vast majority, there is nothing, and we go our separate ways – no hard feelings. However, sometimes it takes a few (or several) dates to make this determination. Often something “clicks” but then something “unclicks.” It could be a number of things to cause it, but I won’t get into that here, as it’s very subjective. This is a common phenomenon, and breaking it off (including breaking the news to your future former dating partner) can be somewhat difficult. Case in point, my experience with Frog Two, who did not bother to break the news to anyone prior to announcing to the world his change in status. I do NOT recommend this mode of notification. It makes more enemies than friends.

For my part, it’s important to cut the relationship cleanly – no messiness if at all possible. I do this by sitting with the intended victim in person (if possible), and after thanking them for their companionship, explain that I no longer feel that we can go further. If said victim asks why, then I will explain to them – as delicately as possible – the reasons. I never raise my voice, use slurs or name-calling and I make it as short as possible.

My experience with Frog Nine, in particular, can be used as a cautionary tale. From several dates over the course of two weeks, I had gone from cautiously optimistic to total aversion. This is a lesson on how to break up (or not) and how to react to said break-up (or not).

For our first meeting, we arranged to meet at a coffee and wine bar one evening, and aside from the fact that Frog Nine was late (and didn’t feel the need to update me himself; I’d called him), we had a good time once he arrived. Not attractive to me in the least, but he was personable, if a little too cozy. Still, he did not overstep any boundaries, and later told me that I could take all the time I needed. After the first meeting, and before the end of the next, I got the feeling that he was a lot more into me than I was into him. He sent an email later that day asking for the next date, saying, “tonight would not be too soon.” Hmmm… Still, I saw in him a huge capacity for sweetness and compassion and decided to continue trying to discover who he really was. I got that in spades.

Our next - and third - date was dinner at his house. He lived in a town nearby in a very old (circa 1900s) section. He said he owned his house outright and has no payments. The brick house looked nice on the outside but somewhat run down on the inside. It wasn’t dirty or damaged; just old and not updated. He was preparing dinner: a nice steak with pasta and shrimp and green salad. I came in around the beginning of it, so offered to help, which he accepted. A man that cooks and works well with you in the kitchen is a bonus. He also prepared for me one of his specialty drinks: a mint julep. I’m not a huge bourbon fan, but the drink was nice and cooling on a warm evening. I nursed my one drink while he went through at least three over the course of the date, by my count. Nothing really wrong with that (I don’t drink a lot, so it can really affect me), as he seemed to be able to hold his liquor, but I did take a mental note. The date ended positively and the next day, he asked me out for that evening. I declined, saying that I had things I needed to do. Over the next several days, he persisted, and I acquiesced. We were to go out, but I met him at his house. By this time, he had already had a few drinks and was showing it. I tolerated the date, and at the end, told him what was on my mind.

I had been raised around alcoholics and drug addicts, and for some miraculous reason, that disorder did not plague me. I had seen the effects of substance abuse, and I will not – under any circumstances – accept that in any partner. I won’t even date a ‘recovering’ substance abuser. I’ve seen that shit hit the fan and scatter far and wide. Too damaging. Won’t do it. Period.

He told me that he just got carried away, and that it wouldn’t happen again. I shouldn’t have, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I was to be proven wrong.

The last date was when he came over to my house (I had misgivings about any future with him, but decided to follow through), and he brought two bottles of wine. Most heavy drinkers are not picky about what they drink, and it was true here. I could not drink what he had, but he proceeded to drink glass after glass in short order. I watched him go from reasonably sober to nearly tottering drunk. He was pawing me, and I had just had enough. He made a comment to me that put me on high-alert: “What about your other boyfriends – do I need to kill any of them?” He tried to put if off as a joke, but that was an extremely dangerous thing to say. I told him that he had to leave – now. The compassionate part of me wanted to just have him sleep it off on the sofa, but my fear was that he would take advantage of my generosity and not keep to the sofa like a good boy. So, I went against my logic and I kicked his ass out, only marginally concerned that he would be driving drunk. I secretly hoped he would be pulled over, perhaps saving himself and untold others. It did not escape my mind the ramifications of an accident which involved innocent people. My instinct for self-preservation overrode any compassion I had for anyone else. As sad as it sounds, I'm sure few people would do otherwise.

This was not the end of Frog Nine. Over the course of several days, he emailed, texted and called me several times a day. I tried to ignore his overtures, thinking that he would finally get the hint. He did not. I decided that I needed to call him and give him the “come to Jesus” talk. He did not answer his phone, so I decided to give him his walking papers by voicemail (not my favorite mode of dumping a frog, but I felt he gave me no choice). I told him that I didn’t want to see him again, that his relationship with alcohol was a dangerous one and that any further communication with me would be ignored. He followed up the next day with an email (ugh!) asking why I was acting this way. Okay, so this time I was really concerned. I feared that he might decide to show up at my house some day and force the issue. I have since taken measures to ensure that if that happened, there would be an evidence trail if things got bad.

I don’t recommend that one should go out and buy a gun or any other defensive device – especially if one is not trained thoroughly in such devices. I am, but no longer own a pistol. So, I took the following measures:

Since I had been dating multiple men, I kept a spreadsheet with all pertinent information on it, including the full name, address (if known), phone number, and dating site info (username, etc.). I sent this document to two trusted Facebook friends. These friends are people with whom I had communication with almost daily, and would notice if my activity on FB waned. These people had my contact info, so would follow up. On my phone, I programmed the numbers of those trusted friends as ICE (In Case of Emergency) contacts. I felt that if something unfortunate happened, that there would be an evidence trail in place.

Was I jumping to conclusions? Perhaps, but this is an object lesson to prove that you just don’t know someone when you’re in the first weeks of dating – perhaps even the first months. I will recommend this practice to anyone who wishes to do online dating - or any dating, for that matter. An ounce of prevention, don’t you know.

I am down to just one frog in the pond. My next post will go over my experience with Frog Eleven: the Frog who could be Prince.

It’s Raining Frogs (Kind of)!

These last few weeks have been busy ones here in the Pond. My ‘collection’ has expanded more than twice over since last I reported. I will update you all on what’s been happening:

You already know about Frog Five, but I am sad to report that he no longer qualifies to reside in my Pond. The online system we got connected through offers a ‘matching algorithm’ through answering questions and taking certain tests. Potential matches can read each other’s answers and test results. Through his answered questions – which he invited me to peruse – I discovered to my extreme chagrin that Frog Five had admitted to – how do I say this delicately? – obtaining the services of a…’working girl.’ Now, I realize that many men may have done this in the past – it’s a fact of life. However, having admitted to it publicly leaves me feeling pretty disgusted. In speaking with him about it (which I felt I needed to do), his answer was simply, “Oh that was when I was in the military,” – as if that was all the justification he needed. That might be sufficient justification for him, but all the rationalization and logic in the world will not remove the ‘creep factor’ from my opinion of him. Another question he answered badly was along the lines of, “Is there any justification for cheating on your spouse?” His answer: “Yes” – another red flag. So, this little froggy goes ribbit, ribbit, ribbit – ALL the way home!

If I could offer advice to denizens of the online dating world, I would say that there are questions one should never answer on these systems. Period.

On to the newest frogs:

Frog Six

Early 50s, Six feet tall. Lots of lovely gray hair. Cute as hell, with a deep voice and a sexy southern drawl. Self-employed home inspector. Our first meeting at a trendy coffee shop was very nice – we laughed and had a good time. I had hoped to see him again, and he did call a couple of times afterward, where we chatted for quite some time. But, he did not follow through to directly ask me out. I am not about to go chasing anyone. If he wasn’t moved to ask me out again, I wasn’t going to do it for him.

Frog Seven

Nice enough fellow – early to mid 50s, if I recall correctly. Large and powerfully built, balding, but had short red hair. He was laid off from his job at a large shipping entity, but was going to school. He was very nice, but the conversations we had were not natural and flowing. He tended to talk about what he wanted in a partner – and nothing else. He made some jokes and tended to give me nicknames I didn’t care for. He seemed very needy and did not abide by my requests to limit his contact. His visit to the pond was brief.

Frog Eight

Not much to say about Frog Eight. Nice guy – genuine. Mid-fifties. Retired. Another one with a head full of lovely gray hair. His pictures actually look better than he did in person, sadly. Now, I am not seeking an Adonis – I understand that we gain weight as we age. I am far from perfect, so accept that with the men I meet. Having said that, extreme amounts of weight are an issue – I want my guy relatively healthy. With women, it’s easier to tell what her general body condition is just by seeing the face – most of us gain weight in the face as we gain weight elsewhere; with men, it’s difficult to determine with a photo of just the face and/or chest. In meeting Frog Eight, I saw that he had a bit of a weight issue – it was all in his middle. This is also rather unhealthy – I would like for my guy to have the health to stick around a bit on this earth. Other things contributed to his not ‘flipping my switch,’ so he is no longer in the pond, either.

Frog Nine

When I first met this man, he was not attractive to me in the least. He still isn’t, really, but has a charm and a soft voice and a southern drawl that would melt almost any frozen heart. Rather short in stature, he was a former body builder, so had a nice physique. He is also a psychotherapist and has a huge capacity for compassion. The negatives: He misrepresented his age – by 10 years – so that is a red flag (what else could he be lying about?), he is very recently split from his former partner of more than 20 years and he seems to have a bad relationship with alcohol. We have had some incredible conversations about life, the universe and everything, and I will miss that. But, I cannot get involved with someone like him. We’re supposed to go out Saturday night, but my heart just isn’t in it. I’m not sure what to do there.

Frog Ten

Speaker, writer, ordained minister (!). Charming, but quite unattractive. He admitted to some health issues, so that’s a strike off for me. A bit of an egomaniac – he talks about himself a lot. Most of our conversations on the phone and during the meeting was about him and how much money, property and celebrity connections he has. And, what he’s looking for in a woman. Having said that, he is also a very nice person, and I believe he would make a good friend. He has already asked me a lot of questions about what I know being in my professional world, and appreciates that I am a writer. He has complimented me on my writing skill, and has offered to publish any book I write (he claims to own a publishing company). If this is true, I may take him up on that, but not at the cost of entering into a relationship with him. I believe he has met someone more suitable for him, anyway, as he alluded to that during a recent phone call. So, friends I think we will remain.

Frog Eleven

When I first saw this man’s profile, he didn’t really appeal to me. Sure, he’s handsome and seemed quite polished and sophisticated. But, he is an actor and entertainer – something I never thought I would ever pair up with. He lives in South Carolina, but is up here caring for his ailing mother. Through the algorithms previously mentioned, we seemed to have some core differences in our philosophies. However, we had some lovely correspondence, and I agreed to meet him for coffee. I was in for a big surprise!

As many of you know, I am new to the area, so when he told me where he wanted to meet, I didn’t think anything of it – thought it was just a coffee shop. Au contraire! It was a posh lunch and dinner spot for the very well-heeled! He saw me as I walked toward the entrance, where he greeted me with a friendly, genuine hug and escorted me inside, opening the door for me (nice touch!). I was then presented with a beautiful, single yellow rose! In all of my experience in online dating, only one other ever has presented me with any type of flower, and that was many years ago (and quite a bad experience). Surprised and pleased, I graciously accepted the gift. We were guided to a cloth-covered table, where we sat down and began to talk.

Charming, handsome and polished he certainly was. But, he was also real, genuine, very interesting, intelligent and not egotistical in the least. He did not mention much about who he rubbed shoulders with or what he's done as an actor and entertainer. He is about 6’1”, weighs between 185 and 190 lbs – a former owner of two gyms, so has nice body condition. He is in his mid-50s, but has a full head of hair, dark brown (probably colored, but so what?), piercing blue eyes and a beautiful smile. A born Southerner, his drawl is pronounced - but he speaks articulately, deliberately, with a nice, smooth and soothing tone.

We did not have coffee, but nibbled on a lovely gourmet cheese and fruit plate while drinking a nice wine spritzer – perfect for the hot day – and finished it off sharing a crème brulee. We were there for two solid hours! I had an obligation to be elsewhere at a certain time, so had to take my leave. I did not want to go. And later I learned, he did not want me to go!

We have spent the days since talking to each other on the phone and have a date for Sunday. I have since discovered that he used to breed English bulldogs, so he understands and supports my passion for my dogs and knows his way around a horse, too!

Funny, I haven’t thought much about Frog Two since meeting Frog Eleven…

I do have another potential frog in the Pond. He lives in Richmond, VA, so meeting might be a challenge. Time will tell.

More later,

SA

Frog or Toad (Part Two)

(...continued from May 15th post)

I took another deep drink from my wine; took a deeper breath into my lungs. Let it out slowly. Walking from the kitchen, I heard a rap on the door. I opened it to see Frog Two…with his dog. That’s interesting. And annoying. I figured that he brought her to help diffuse the situation in case things got ugly. Kind of like a shield. Abby loves me, you see, and I think he figured that I wouldn’t go off the deep end if she was there. He said he’d had her at work all day (he often takes her to work with him) with an apologetic look on his face. Whether it was pre-meditated or if it was the lack of any forethought, I decided to forgive it. I can’t blame him for wanting to try and take the edge off of a confrontation both of us dreaded. A bigger issue was at hand.

I told him to come in and release Abby from her lead; she knows her way around and is comfortable in my home. He took the cap he was wearing off as he walked in, speaking to the good manners he had trained himself with and which charmed me from the first. Without looking at him, I asked if he would like a glass of wine. I would have been a cad if I didn’t offer (a small part of me wanted to be a cad). He accepted, so I got another glass from the wall unit and poured the wine. The bottle I had opened was not the French wine he had given to me two weeks before; that would have been ironic and not a little poetic. When he gave it to me – supposedly in exchange for watching Abby for him – I told him that I wanted to share it with him. Go figure. I handed him the glass, still not looking at him, and invited him to have a seat on the sofa.

He sat somewhat toward the center on the left and, wanting some distance, I crammed myself against the right arm, removed my feet from the mules I was wearing and folded my legs under me. Turning my body toward his, I took my time to get comfortable; I figured I should be as relaxed as possible for this unpleasantness. Looking at my lap, I took a deep breath and slowly raised my eyes to meet his. Putting my hand on my chest to remind myself that I must say what I feel – directly from my heart – I spoke.

I heard my own voice as halting and nervous at first, when I told him of the feelings of anger, hurt and betrayal I felt (still fresh, though more than a week had passed). Then, I watched his eyes – steady in their gaze moments before – get large, then soften and look away. He appeared quite shocked at the realization of the effect of his actions. Emboldened, my voice steadied. I spoke in even tones, never raising my voice. It wasn’t necessary; I saw in his face and eyes the shadow of shame and hurt.

It was not my intention to talk him out of his decision to pair up with someone else – that is a waste of time, and would make me look like a desperate fool. His choice is his choice, and he’s the one who has to live with it. If he cannot see what a catch I am, that's his problem, not mine.

Taking a deep breath of his own, he looked at me and said (paraphrased):

“I’m so sorry – I don’t know what to say. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve never been in this kind of situation before, so I really had no idea how to go about it. I’m horrified that I caused you that much pain. I completely underestimated your feelings and I am so very sorry.”

I explained to him that when dealing with issues of the heart, consideration of others is paramount. To blithely announce to the world about one's status change without consideration for the people he was directly involved with was inconsiderate. Still not raising my voice, the words came across like a shout: "It was horrible. What a horrible, horrible thing to do," I exclaimed. "Unthinking, unfeeling, inconsiderate and absolutely horrible! Not just for me, but for anyone else you had been seeing!

"Did you tell anyone else before you announced it to the world?"

"No, I didn't," to which I groaned, “Dear God!” and looked at him in mild exasperation.

I admitted that I had feelings of him moving away from me for weeks. He had no answer to that – and I didn't really want one. He did not deny it, which is an admission in and of itself. When I met him last at the movies, and I pointed out to him that I had asked him point-blank, “Is there anything you need to tell me?” his answer was, “I didn't want to lose you as a friend.” I nearly blew up. Glaring at him and growling my words (still not raising my voice), I asked, “Did you actually think that I would ignore the fact that you lied to me? What kind of a friend is that? You would have saved me a hell of a lot of pain and anxiety had you just told me the truth, instead of stringing me along!”

He flinched, having been cut to the quick. He explained that he had a female friend, who seemed to be able to make friends of her former lovers, and he wanted to emulate her and do what she did to gain friendships from his own experiences. “I don’t know how she does it,” he admitted. I jumped in with another stab: “Perhaps she did it by being sensitive, considerate – and truthful.” Another flinch.

“I handled this badly,” he said.

“Yes, you did," I said, my eyes boring into him. "Now, we have to figure out if a friendship can be salvaged from this train wreck,” I said quietly.

I told him that I had to work through this anger and that will take time. I didn’t want him contacting me for a while; that I would be the one to contact him. If he had direct questions about anything related to my field of specialty (we had discussed much of that during our dating), that he was free to do so. But, I did not want him to email for any other purpose. “Let me contact you – that will be the best indicator of my willingness to be friends.”

I told him that I wanted his honesty going forward. “Can you promise me that?”

He sat for a moment, thoughtful. “I promise that I will do better,” he replied, which was as truthful as I could ask for.

I had to accept that. I would have said the same thing.

My venom expended, I told him he could leave at any time. Instead, he asked, “Can Abby play with your dogs for a while?” I couldn’t help but smile. The expression on his face was hopeful, childlike in it’s reflection of appeasement. I believe he truly wanted to mend the rift and see if a friendship could develop. It was still light outside, so I relented. Frog Two refilled his wine glass and made his way to the back yard with Abby while I released my own hounds. I refilled my own glass and headed outside. The dogs played while we interacted with each other through them. Amazingly, that worked like a balm. It broke the tension and both of us relaxed after such a grueling confrontation. I felt the first stirrings of healing.

Darkness was prevailing, so we gathered the herd and went back inside. Frog Two leashed Abby and made his way toward the front door. I thanked him for coming despite the unpleasantness of what he was facing. He thanked me for being honest and telling him exactly what I felt. I told him that I would always tell him what I feel. “That is a promise.”

We hugged in a way that was friendly, but held the undercurrent of past emotion. I watched as he and Abby got into his car. I closed the door, sat on the sofa and cried.

Several minutes later, as I was taking the wine glasses to the kitchen, I noticed something on the ottoman.

He left his cap.

Frog or Toad? (Part one)

My last post explained some of the feelings I had developed for Frog Two over the course of two months, and just after that post, I discovered – rather abruptly – that he had decided to enter into a relationship with someone else. The shock was more in how I found out than the news itself, although the news was pretty shocking, too. He kept it all veiled and hidden.

We met through an online dating service, and this service allows users to put their status as “married / single / seeing someone,” etc. I had logged on to discover that he had changed his status to “seeing someone” after having been set at “single” since we met. He did not bother to take the time to inform me of this change prior to his announcing it to the world.

Yes, I was very hurt that he decided to focus his attentions on someone else (especially, since he said he had no intentions to “get involved” with anyone), but what really got me was the apparent disregard for my feelings (and those of others he was seeing) when he decided to notify the world without coming forward privately first. It was like a kick in the chest. I felt angry, hurt – and in no small measure, betrayed, strung along and lied to.

Had I been deluding myself? Maybe – and that’s a hard thing to admit. However, I did the best I could to discover his feelings by asking specific questions. Yet, after he had answered them, I still felt at odds, and I didn’t acknowledge that. That is where my fault lies, I think. By failing to address my own doubts, I gave him too much of the benefit of the doubt.

I emailed him in reaction to his announcement – “I would have appreciated knowing – why could you not have told me?” He apologized and asked if we could talk about it the next day. My response was along the lines of, “The only way I will speak to you about it is in person. If you don’t want to do that, then we have nothing to talk about.” “Of course, we can talk about it in person,” he said, and from there, it was arranged for him to come to my house the Tuesday evening after returning from my trip. I left for my trip 2 days later, longing for a break from my melancholy. My friends made short work of it, and put me back in a place of happiness. I am very grateful for that, and I thank you all (you know who you are) for your parts in ensuring that I didn’t dwell on this rejection.

I had intended on simply forgetting about things while on my trip, and I was doing a great job of it, until he emailed me a few days later. “Hey, how is your trip?” Great – another kick in the chest sets me reeling. I determined to not even respond and ignore any other communication from him while I was trying to enjoy myself almost a thousand miles away from my pain.

On my drive back home days later, I tried not to think about him, but the solitude of the drive and the memory-inducing music on my radio conspired to bring him to the forefront. I came to a sad conclusion drawn by deep thought over the sound of the road beneath my wheels. I realized that I invested a lot more into him than I actually thought (or cared to admit). I realized to my shame that my sole reason for dating other men was to try and wait Frog Two out. Hoping that someday he would be ready and I would be there when that happened. Talk about backfire. That’s a tough thing to admit to, but admit to it I must.

I arrived home determined to face the person who hurt me. To tell him exactly how I felt. What good it would do I could only say for myself. I needed to get this off my chest - and out of my heart. I had no idea how he would react - or even if he would actually show up. Surprisingly, the day before the scheduled meeting, Frog Two sent an email to confirm. With an economy of words bordering on terseness, I confirmed. Mentally preparing myself for the – for lack of a better word – confrontation was fruitless. I rehearsed all the things I wanted to say and could spout the words out flawlessly with no one around. But, when Tuesday evening rolled around and, sitting across from him, I looked into his face, most of those beautiful, eloquent words went right out the window.

The anxiety was going to drive me insane, so in the hour before the appointed arrival, I opened a bottle of wine and drank deeply to steady my nerves. I put the dogs in their crates (I did not want any distractions) and minutes after the arranged time, I hear the familiar rumble of his BMW in my driveway.

To be continued…

Moving On

I had an epiphany last night. Actually, it was early this morning, because I could not sleep (I haven't been able to sleep well for a couple of weeks now). It came on the wave of the release of pent-up frustration at not being able to follow my desire to make Frog Two a permanent fixture in my life (by now, most of you should know my feelings for him). He has not been very responsive to my emails as of late. There could be a number of reasons for this, and it may have nothing to do with me. But instead of wondering why (or even broaching the subject to him), I took this as a sign that he and I may be going onto divergent paths. That realization caused a flood of emotion and a torrent of tears. Thoughts of missed opportunities and bad timing careening in my brain. The crying was cleansing and allowed me to see things as they are, not as I want them to be. Letting go and moving on, no matter how pragmatic and appropriate, is hard to do.

That is not to say that we’re formally parting ways, never to see one another again; I don’t think that’s the case. But, I believe that we will end up more as friends than anything else, simply because he is not ready for anything else. Could that change? Of course – stranger things have happened. I still believe that he will keep contact with me on occasion. I’m not pushing him out of my life. But, I am also not going to try to pull him into my life, either. So, I attempt to follow my own advice and just let it be. Gone are the hopes of something more than what is plainly there; gone are my attempts at keeping me in his thoughts.

Now, I need to let go and move on. Easier said than done.

Update: I have just found out that Frog Two has become involved with someone else.

- SA

My Dating Philosophy

In today’s post, I thought I would expound upon my dating philosophy, in addition to updating you all on my pond adventures. But, I’d also like to ask a boon of my Facebook friends:
Please, PLEASE – share this with others on Facebook if you’d like to. I encourage it. But, please do NOT use my real name when doing so. I’d like to make my blog presence as removed as possible from my real self, for obvious reasons. On to my philosophy.

Please, good reader – let me make this perfectly clear: I am dating around; I’m not sleeping around. The vast majority of my dates are first-time meetings – and nothing else. What happens, more often than not, is by the time the first meeting is half over, one of us has decided the other is not a good match. I have to admit that the ratio for me making the call rather than him is about 4:1, however. I’m including pre-blog figures, since I’m only up to Frog Five this time around. I’m not a floozy, a loose woman or a “ho.” Why am I dating like this? Here’s my analogy:

Say you’re out shopping for a car. You go to the dealer, test drive one car, then purchase it and drive it off the lot. Then, after a few days or weeks, you decide you don’t like it, so you take it back and start looking for the next car. Does that make any sense at all? It’s not the best way to shop for a car that suits you – and you shouldn’t to that with men, either. Serial dating is the worst time-suck on the face of the planet if you’re at my age and looking for a long-term relationship. As with cars, you want to "test-drive" as many men as you can over a period of time before making a move toward exclusivity. Why on earth would I want to cut off all other potential matches with someone who “seems” like we get along (on the surface), then find out in short order that we’re not such a good match? I’d have to start all over again in finding a nice man. I don’t have a hell of a lot of time to waste – I have to make every date count.

Nearly all dating advice sites (and there are plenty of them) recommend not engaging in sexual activity with anyone until or unless exclusivity (at least of a sexual nature) is declared. This means being very clear about one’s status and goal. And, I am not making my status a secret. If things look like they will go beyond the first couple of dates, I will let my date know that I am seeing other men. Frog Two knew this before the end of our second date.

Being physically intimate with anyone while in the “dating” mode is not a good idea, for innumerable reasons. It can create all sorts of complicated problems, in addition to the obvious health risks. That is not to say that I’m not tempted with Frog Two. Problem is, the feeling is mutual and is the precise reason why we are trying to work out a level of physical interaction with each other that minimizes the chance that things will go over the edge before either of us is ready. A very difficult balancing act, to be sure. We have discussed our sexual attraction - among the intellectual and other attraction - with each other. And, as a whole, I would have no problem whatsoever entering into a physical relationship with him. However, the biggest fear I have is to become a “friend with benefits.” I told Frog Two that I did not want to be considered such, and that if we become intimate, that I wanted “all of him” – heart, body and soul. However, this “line in the sand” does complicate things when passions rise. Drawing the line – or crossing it – will alter our relationship, perhaps permanently. Scary, especially when he is the only one with whom I am even remotely considering on that level.

On to my date yesterday. Frog Five came to my neck of the woods for lunch and a movie. He had earlier suggested that we rent a movie to watch at my house, but there’s no way that I will have him at my house until and unless I feel I can trust him. I like him, but I doubt if we will actually become an item, but the fact that he can fly anywhere in the U.S. and have a companion fly free, too is pretty attractive – at least for a little while.

Lunch at a Mexican place was okay. He’s a smart guy, and we have some things in common. His movie and TV tastes run toward the comic book or action-flick side, but he did actually suggest seeing the Lincoln Lawyer, which was fantastic! I needed to have some work done on my car (brakes – gulp!), so had the car fixed while we wandered around chatting. He’s a pretty decent conversationalist, and has some strong opinions on certain things, but he seems respectful of opposing views – unless (by his admission) they go far off to the extreme. He is also polite, and always opens doors for me – a nice touch. He alluded to seeing me again, asking me to contact him when I returned from my trip. At that time, he will also get the "I'm seeing other men" speech, in one way or another.

There have been a number of potential “Frog Sixes,” but no one has stepped up to the plate to actually meet. This is fine, as I’m too focused on getting ready for my trip to Michigan in a week. For those who don’t know what I am talking about, there is an annual dog show for my breed, and the event is somewhat of a Mecca. We spend our time bragging about our dogs, complimenting others’ dogs, networking and partying like there’s no tomorrow. The majority of my hangovers in a given year are a direct result of these shows.

I think my next post (since I will probably not be seeing anyone over the next two weeks) will be about how I set up my profile(s) in online dating sites – how I attract men and how I approach them when I am attracted to them. I’ll give my insight on what to show in your profile, what not to show and how to present yourself – textually and pictorially. This is just one woman’s opinion, so I don’t expect anyone to see me as an expert (I certainly am not), but I think after all these years, I do have some decent ideas.

Until then,

SA

Boundaries

“Friends first” is an extremely overused, little understood phrase. For some, it connotes a feeling of placing a wall between people in a romantic situation. For others, it’s a way to express that a relationship is more than the sum of its parts. For me, the jury is out. I’d like to believe in the latter; but I've too often run into the former. But, then, I've never met anyone quite like Frog Two.

In my last post, I expressed concern about Frog Two’s attentions. From the time we met, there was an almost tangible spark and the chemistry has been extremely intense. Perfect match, you say? Au contraire, mon ami! Although I am ready to be involved with one man, Frog Two is not ready to commit to one woman. His caution is understandable, having just gotten out of a very toxic marriage (his ex has borderline personality disorder and refused to acknowledge or even submit to treatment). Because I value him as a friend at least as much as I value him as a potential partner (we really do get along that well), I have been willing to allow him to set the pace and direction of our relationship, such that it is. Having said that, it’s been hard to maintain self-control whenever we get together. We have had some deep discussions about this, and we set our boundaries clearly (I thought). 

On Monday, we met in front of the movie theatre in a shopping mall and grabbed a bite to eat at a restaurant nearby. We talked and laughed just like we always do. He is such an easy person to talk to and we can discuss nearly anything without fear of offense, even if we disagreed. But, the movie was a different story. He did not lay a hand on me during the first hour of the movie, although we sat leaning toward each other to whisper some comment or other. Even though this was not was I was expecting (nor did I like it one bit), I tried to respect this boundary. However, after a time, I noticed he was sitting on his own hands! I knew then that he was fighting the urge, so I grabbed his hand, which he seemed more than happy to have me do. OY – what’s up with that?? After the movie, I expressed to him my confusion at this apparent change in physical interaction, and asked him if we could talk about it. He said sure, and got in my car to drive near his car, then parked and talked.

I understand intellectually that he is not ready for a relationship of the kind I want – he needs to work out who he is before he can see us as a cohesive unit. Does the knowledge make it easy to deal with? Nope. But, I value him as a person enough to honor where he needs to be – even at the cost of gaining only a friend and not a life partner. I will continue to date others; I have no plans to do otherwise. Until he – or someone else I connect with – moves forward to ask for exclusivity, I won’t stop dating.

I expressed to him that I was more than happy to honor the boundaries set before me, but it seemed that they were changing and that change wasn’t what I was expecting. It seems that there was a misunderstanding as to the specific level of physical interaction that each of us agreed on. He admitted as much. I told him that if he did not want to touch at all, I would accept that – but I did not like it. He agreed that it was hard not to touch, because, he said, that I have a sensuality that is hard to ignore. “It appears to be completely innate.” To which, I jokingly apologized.

As if he felt he needed to let me know (I did not and will never ask), he said he was not involved with anyone, but is simply meeting interesting people. More often than not meeting just once and not finding a connection. Oddly, he also said he wasn’t sleeping with anyone – that was certainly not asked for. I’m not sure why he felt the need to volunteer that bit of info. I’m not sleeping with anyone either, but I’m not sure how long that can continue. (On a side note, at some point in time I will talk about a few of the dating techniques I’m learning, one of which is called circular dating. An interesting method, which may or may not involve being sexually monogamous to one while dating others non-sexually. More on that later.)

We briefly moved to safer waters, and I asked if he would be bringing his dog over on Friday for pet sitting. He said he’d text or email me with a time to drop her off.

Returning to the subject at hand, I told him that I would sit back and let him make the next move. I was going to place the ball in his court and that if he wanted to see me it was his responsibility to ask. I will no longer take the initiative. Those of you who know me well, know that this was one of the hardest things for me to do. It is possible that he won’t ask me out again. But, that scenario is unlikely, because I know I have made an impact on him. He told me for the second time that I am simply amazing and he wanted me in his life in whatever capacity was good for both of us. He explained that he doesn’t have a lot of really close friends, and at the very least, would like that for us. “Will that change? I don’t know,” he said, answering his own question. So, I’m certain he will reach out to me. Will it be a week, a month or longer? I have no idea. My hands are off the controls.

In a manner of speaking, I am controlling the relationship. By refusing to do anything at all, I control it by pushing it onto his plate. Contacting me will be his idea; not mine. But, contact me, he will. I am that confident.

I think we got it worked out, because we parted with a nice, long kiss good night.

SA

Of Mullets and Men

I met two frogs this weekend (see previous post for overview). I met Frog Four on Saturday at noon at a place in my town called the Wooden Nickel Pub. A hole in the wall, essentially. Not that that’s a bad thing, but I think I will not go there again. I discovered that the pictures he posted on his profile did not reveal the fact that he had a MULLET! That, and I discovered that the photos are also at least 5 years old. C’mon, people – digital camera technology has advanced to the point where one can purchase a camera really cheap! Hell, most cell phones have cameras in them! I think I will ask how old the pictures are from now on. Jeebus!!!

He was a really nice guy, was polite and considerate. But that mullet thing…I can’t abide by that. Nope, can’t do that. I was polite and we had a good conversation. He put me on the spot toward the end, asking if I’d like to do this again. This? You mean, sit in a dive bar, eating a nasty hamburger, drinking a pissy beer and talking to a mullet-wearing guy who can’t face how old he actually is? I took the non-confrontational approach, and said I wasn’t sure, but my head was screaming NOOOOOO!

Frog Five was less of a disappointment. He lives in the Winston-Salem area, so I drove out to meet him at – of all places – East Coast Wings. Not my first choice, but since I didn’t know the area, I figured it couldn’t be worse than where I was yesterday. In actuality, it was better. My stomach is still getting over the bug of early last week, so I didn’t eat much. But, what I did have wasn’t half bad. The weather was beautiful, so we sat outside. Frog Four even looked like his photos. He is not a ticketing agent, like I said previously - but a reservations supervisor. Nice man, quirky in his sense of humor, but quite personable and has some degree of intelligence. We later went to Old Winston, one of the historical districts in the area and walked around a bit. There was a quaint ice cream parlor, so we each got a cone to enjoy in the warm weather. All in all a very nice time. He asked to see me again, so he will be coming out my way next time.

I have to admit that my feelings (hopes) for Frog Two interferes with my efforts to date others. However, I know that I must date other people, because he isn’t ready for a relationship – and I have no idea when or if that might be. Since we are in two different places as far as our readiness for a relationship is concerned, but so much in sync in just about everything else, I am in a constant state of stress. Since last Saturday, I’ve been feeling confused. He was not as affectionate with me as he had been previously. Was it because he doesn’t like me as well anymore, or because he didn’t want to display affection to me at his house while we were working on his car (neighbors, friends, etc)? He put his arm around me and later held my hand while we were out hiking, so at least I know I’m not repulsive to him. We did make arrangements to meet on Monday (tomorrow), and in our email exchange this evening, his reply was somewhat comforting. So, I will satisfy myself with whatever he is willing to offer me, and not complain.

I am trying to be hands-off in dictating the direction of the path that Frog Two and I are on. He is not a man that would take well to a pushy woman. And, I am realizing in my more mature years, that I don’t want to push. If I am unable to develop a relationship with a man that feels natural (and my path with Frog Two feels very free and natural), then I don’t want that relationship. Taking my hands off the controls is very difficult for me, however. The good news is that I am willing to allow him to control the speed and direction - however it may go. I will follow his lead. And, oddly enough, I think that's the best thing for us.

Until next time,

SA

The Toads are Out There

I promised that I would go into a recent situation that could have turned out rather badly, had things not revealed themselves sooner. But, first, let me explain that I have a “process” of sorts in place for communicating and meeting men from online. It was developed over the years as a filter – allowing us to get acquainted without sharing personal information. This requires that both parties be willing to do some amount of messaging/emailing (no IM, no phone) before meeting. It allows me to get a feel for who I’m dealing with. This one time, I broke one of my own rules – and it could have cost me dearly.

This happened mere days ago. I had received a message on a system from a gentleman (call him Toad One) who wanted to get to know me. From his pictures, he’s a big man (about 6’1” and 230-250 lbs), a bodybuilder and rather handsome. We corresponded on that system a couple of times, then he asked for my phone number. I am loath to give it out, as I explained, but he insisted, saying that he’s not a computer person and it’s difficult for him to email back and forth. So, I opted to call him from my computer using Skype. He seemed very nice, polite and respectful, and we talked for over an hour and a half. However, he regularly referred to “If you and I were together, I would do this…” or “…we would go here and do that.” At the time I thought it quaint, and concluded that he didn’t have much experience with dating. Expectations can get pretty high when first starting out, so I am quick to point out my own experience, and that I keep my expectations low.

He asked me if I was dating other men, and I was honest with him. He said that he understood, but asked that if we met (we had scheduled a meeting for this past Friday) and we really get along well, would I stop dating other men. I was hesitant – again, this pointed to his high expectations. He compromised, asking if I would just give it a few dates before deciding on whether to move on or not. I acquiesced, thinking, “what’s a few dates?” I thought it would be highly unlikely that I would find someone to surpass Frog Two, but I was open to the possibility.

I decided that he would be fine with my number, so I gave it to him. We closed the call, and I thought that was it. I wouldn’t hear anything more until Friday. I went back on the system to review his profile and those of others. I received a text from him a few minutes later, accusing me of breaking my word because I was on the system again (some systems will allow users to see if specific users are online, and he no doubt saw me). I texted back that that wasn’t the agreement, and that I thought he was being unreasonable. I won’t repeat what he texted to me after that, but suffice to say, I told him to leave me alone. He texted back, and I ignored it, blocked his number and deleted all messages.

This toad displayed an extreme tendency for possessiveness and controlling any woman he thinks is his. To be honest, I’m still reeling from the exchange and the thought of potential disaster that was averted. But, I am safe – having only provided my phone number. A very, very dangerous situation could have resulted if I had but met with him and had he not shown his true colors then.

This exchange provided valuable lessons:

• Never deviate from my process – built from years of experience.
• When a man speaks of a relationship before you even meet, run. Run like hell.
• NEVER promise exclusivity – no matter how brief – until you are ready UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

It was enough to make me contemplate getting out of dating for a while. I’m not proud of my failure to stick to my guns. But, I learned, barely escaping from a nasty case of warts.

In other news, I have a meeting with Frog Four today: 51 years old, 5’7” (a bit shorter than I like), weight / height proportionate, a full head of salt and pepper hair and a goatee. A bit of a cowboy, but seems intelligent, polite and well-spoken. Owns a Harley. Has a clear sense of who he is, from what I can tell. We’re meeting for lunch at 11:30 at a local pub. Hope I can find some low-fat choices on the menu (probably not).

I also have a lunch meeting with Frog Five on Sunday: 54 years old, 5’ 10”, average build. A full head of gray hair; handsome in a boyish sort of way. Has been a ticketing agent for a major airline for a number of years (job security – yay!). Quirky in his sense of humor, it comes out in his emails. Seems like he would be fun.

Frog Six has not surfaced since contacting me Thursday. Not sure if he will. Not sure if I want to contact him, either. C’est la vie. If I don't hear from him, his designation will be removed, and my next frog will be named Frog Six (since we have not actually met). There are more where he came from.

I'll post again soon.

SA

Background

I am a battle-scarred veteran of the online dating scene. Twice married, both marriages failed for different reasons after a few years. I will not get into that here, but I might refer to this or that observation from time to time. I’m not sure I want to be married again, but I do want a committed relationship that has the potential of being stronger than any legal document. One can dream.

My introduction into online dating started in 1995, as a beta tester for a now-defunct online service. I was tasked with interacting with other beta testers all over the world testing functions and robustness of the system and relaying my findings to the developers. And, that’s where I met Rob, who lived in another country. I had separated from my first husband then, and feeling unworthy, I found Rob’s attentions flattering, to say the least. To make a long story short, we ended up in a relationship lasting more than 18 months. I had some serious airline miles under my belt. So, I’m no stranger to that world; nor am I a stranger to the slimy, dark underbelly of online dating. Maybe I will post more on that in the future.

Rob was the first. Many have followed off and on over the years. Fast-forward to 2011. Another husband came and went (not minimizing the marriage – just providing a timeline). I had signed on to several online dating sites over time. Some free; others quite spendy. I am thinking of providing critiques of some of them, for the enlightenment of those interested at some future point.

Since moving to my current location around January of this year, I have experienced a resurgence of confidence that I am worthy of a relationship and finding someone who is likewise worthy. Previously, my confidence had been hampered quite severely due to a number of circumstances. Today, I am rediscovering myself. A Renaissance woman.

Since relocating, I have been dating actively, and each man is referred to not by name, but by designation (Frog One, Frog Two, etc.). Below is a list and quasi-timeline, complete with some degree of detail.

Frog One:

40 years old. About 5’ 11 or so; borderline obese. Not great looking, but not repulsive, either. Loves critters. A real sweet guy. Too sweet, actually. I am certainly willing to look past the surface and forgive extra weight (I am no skinny mini). However, his mannerisms, the way he dressed, carried himself and his recent past all conspired against him. In addition, he showed his lack of confidence by emailing, calling and texting me several times a day. I cannot tolerate that kind of neediness, so I had to remove him from the pond.

Frog Two:

47 years old. 5’10” about 170. In good physical shape. Shaved head. One 11-year old daughter. A successful business owner, he does not want for anything (believe it or not, that is not important to me, nor is it the reason I’m seeing him). He is an accomplished musician (violin, guitar) and plays in the local symphony orchestra, a speed freak (has his own rally car) and photographer (does beautiful work). His face, although not attractive to me at first, has grown on me. From our first meeting in mid March, the attraction was instant and mutual. He has a way of carrying himself that shows an ease and genuine confidence seen rarely. He is attentive, affectionate, and open. A class act. We love each others’ dogs. We are still seeing each other, but he is in a different place relationship-wise than I am. Having said that, we had quickly developed a connection – a bond that could last for years. In what capacity, I have no idea. If he ever said he was ready for just one, I would throw every other frog out of this pond in a New York minute. ‘Nuff said.

Frog Three:

46 years old. About 5’9”, slight of build, killer smile. Smooth talker; pushy. After dating for a couple of weeks, I discover that he is a closet alcoholic. A veritable train wreck. I dumped him faster than you could say “cheers!”

Three new frogs have entered the pond, but I have not met them yet. I will detail them later. But, I will describe for you my near-miss of a tragic mistake in my next post. This could have ended badly, and I’m very glad all he had was my phone number.

Until then –

SA

Welcome to the swamp!

Secret Admirer here. You can call me SA. This is my first post on this blog, which is going to be about my exploits in the world of dating - online and offline, where applicable. Notes from the Lily Pad is so named, because the Lily Pad is where the frogs are, and as you know, you have to kiss a helluva lot of them to find your prince (*Thanks, CW).

This project (because that's really what it is, isn't it?) started on Facebook, and it seemed to entertain my friends. So, I will post my experiences here going forward. My next post will attempt to summarize my experiences up to this time. For those who have been following, please forgive the duplication.

I hope that this blog will serve at least as entertainment, but I hope that perhaps we might find some insight along the way, too.

And, maybe, just maybe, I will find my prince.

Ribbit,

SA