Late last summer, I thought it would be a good idea to join a dating app. You can skip the middle and end and just know, it wasn’t. I had a goal–ten dates by the end of 2024. It was some sort of misguided attempt to affirm that I am continuing to live and moving forward. Ugh. Gross. Can I go back in time and tell late summer 2024 Becci that she was/is continuing to live and move forward? Some lessons get to be learned harder than others, I reckon. I met three different fellas and had a total of five dates. I won’t bore you with the details.
Here’s what I learned:
Being polite and listening are not the same as romantic interest. Chemistry matters. More than chemistry matters–things like curiosity, care, and effort are essential. If my platonic friends make more of an effort to check on me and care for me than any romantic interest, I need to pay attention to that. Sometimes things don’t have deep, hidden meanings. They aren’t symbols of something important. Bryan’s first gift to me was a potato peeler. One of these fellas gave me bucket of potatoes. A hopeful romantic heart wants to make meaning even if there isn’t any. Sometimes a bucket of potatoes is just a bucket of potatoes.
Where do I go from here? I recalibrate. Dating was not some magical lift to my spirits. It was basically terrible (no offense to the three fellas–I’m just not your huckleberry). I am discovering how to be my own huckleberry and remembering I have people tell me every day they love me. Is it the mind/body/heart/soul connection I had with Bryan? No. But right now it’s exactly what I need.
Feryl Files 
I can’t imagine trying to date again. And fortunately at my age I think it would be ok if I just didn’t. Do I worry I would be lonely? Not really. Maybe I’m a sociopath! (But a really lazy one who doesn’t really want to bother anyone – I just want them to leave me alone. Wait, maybe I’m just an introvert.)
But good for you for trying! You can say that you did & now you’re not wondering if you should.
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