How Much Baggage Is Too Much?

Baggage: The shit people go into relationships with, ie, kids, addictions, diseases, etc. (from Urban Dictionary). Emotional baggage, mostly having to do with not being on friendly terms with their children and/or parents, has been a common occurrence in the men I've met online. Mostly I've been able to avoid these men rather than getting involved with their shit.

Lately I've been wondering if baggage also includes crazy ex-partners. Those people in your past who you just can't reconcile with the you in the now. The wild cards. If so, I would have to say that my biggest carry-on is the creepy ex boyfriend who harassed me and then stalked me for over a year after I broke up with him. I never mention him to my dates, because, like Rihanna recently admitted, even though you are not the one who did the crazy, a lot of pain and shame comes from imagining how the relationship will reflect on us as individuals. The thought that people might judge us by how crazy our exes look or act is scary and very painful, as is the realization that we have fallen in love with someone who is capable of being that ugly and despicable.

Is it fair to judge a person based upon someone with whom they were involved before we came into their life? I hate to admit it, but I do it, even though I certainly wouldn't want anyone to judge me by my ex husband, for example. His looks have gone far downhill from the man I married 30 years ago. He is depressed and bitter; a shell of his former self. I would never be even remotely attracted to either his looks or his personality in the present, and I wouldn't be able to stand it if anyone looked at him and thought less of me for having been with him in the past.

It turns out that I am quite the hypocrite - I judged the Cunning Bilingualist rather harshly by the sight of his ex girlfriend, whom I happened to get a very unflattering view of, and didn't speak to him for a day because of the emotions the encounter brought up in me. I just couldn't get past how pathetic she seemed, and yes, I admit that I thought less of him because of who she appeared to be. Not only was she not very attractive and very unkempt, but she was also slurring her words and obviously drunk. She was clearly devastated that he had moved on from her and had his arm around me at the time.

I hurried off and left them there, needing time to think. Had being involved with an alcoholic been a lesson he needed to learn, or was it a pattern with him? What if the proverbial shoe had been on the other foot, and we had encountered one of my past lovers? Does everybody have a person that they aren't very proud of in their past? Should he have told me about her before this happened? It was our 4th date, but we'd only known each other a short time - less than 2 weeks. I hadn't told him about any of my exes and their dysfunctional lives, but I'm pretty sure none of those guys would have been that unhappy to see me enjoying another man's company.

In the end I gave him the opportunity to take me out on another date, mostly because I didn't observe any inappropriate emotional reaction or drama from him during the encounter with his ex, and I found out that they had broken up 7 months ago. We discussed our perceptions and much more, and have been able to talk about past mistakes and hurts, and our desire to be in healthy, dynamic relationships. We have had 6 dates now, and I'm not disappointed at all about my decision to rethink my previous dismay and unease. It's produced a feeling of openness and honesty between us unlike any that I've experienced before. I've learned so much more about myself because of knowing him, and that feels very good.

Date #52: The Widower, or "Why Don't You Take A Picture, It'll Last Longer..."

 When the Widower winked at me I saw that his profile stipulated that he wanted an "athletic and toned" woman. I wrote back straight away saying that we wouldn't be a match, because I'm not now, nor have I ever claimed to be especially athletic, or even particularly toned. He immediately retracted, claiming that he wrote that years ago, and it's not true anymore, and my pictures looked really great to him, yada yada.

His profile said he was 61. During our date, while we were sharing details of our college years and work experience, he suddenly admitted that he's actually 66, explaining that it was getting increasingly harder for him to keep adding 5 years to all the dates in his head, so he needed to come clean. The thing is, he didn't look too bad, even for a 61-year old, except for a decided stoop to his shoulders and a slight limp in his walk. For a guy who was so obviously hung up on physique and body types, he must have felt that he needed to compensate for his shortcomings by dating fitness coaches. This isn't the first time that an older date's profile has insisted that he's "fit and active," listing all of the activities he does to keep in shape "5 times a week," only to be sort of feeble-looking in real life.

Throughout the date, the widower stared at my chest a lot, in a very obvious way. I would have understood if I had been wearing the magic dress or a low cut top, but "the girls" were snugly concealed beneath plenty of fabric that night. Why do men do that? Was he trying to activate his X-Ray vision? Do they think we don't notice, or is it some kind of primitive mating ritual? Besides that annoying habit, he was fairly nice and intelligent-sounding, and we had enough to talk about. He had a pleasing voice and a nice smile, and a great tan (which may have been fake, like his hair color, which was straight out of a bottle). We had a few drinks, then he asked me to stay for dinner. We were in a neighborhood bar where the World Series was playing on TV, so we talked a little about baseball too, but it was mostly about travel, our kids, books we've read, and how life was growing up in a small town. His timeline is too far ahead of mine - his kids are in their late 30s and he has a 17-year old granddaughter - but he's an otherwise OK guy. We had a pleasant time for an hour or so, and then we parted ways. In the parking lot he gave me one of those arms-wide-open hugs that you would give to an acquaintance, but definitely not the kind you would give to someone you were attracted to. Just as well, because the thought of seeing him naked did absolutely nothing for me. He didn't say he would call, so I'm assuming he won't, but if he did, I'd consider going out with him again, even with the age gap. The chances of a LTR between us are nonexistent, but it might be nice to go to a movie or a play with him, if only to be out with a date who could carry on an intelligent conversation. Not to worry; I have one more date lined up with a man who has opposing political views but still insists that he may surprise me with his liberal thinking. We'll see.

Meanwhile, speaking of stimulating conversation, the Cunning Bilingualist is trying hard to win my heart, and I must say he's doing an excellent job so far. He sent flowers to my office after calling the secretary to find out what time my lunch was, thus ensuring that I'd receive them in time to be noticed by the maximum number of co-workers, which is a big part of the experience. Nice touch! Then he took me on our 2nd date, which he carefully and thoughtfully planned and executed without a flaw: a sublime picnic on the beach (coincidentally located 2 blocks away from the Botanist's venue, but worlds apart in tone and feeling). We enjoyed delicious food, an amazing sunset complete with a green flash, and champagne. Later we sat under a full moon around a bonfire, and talked, snuggled, and laughed late into the night. He'd better be careful; I could get used to being treated that well...

Date #51: The Cunning Bilingualist

I hope that the title of this post has piqued the imagination of my readers. Sorry to disappoint if you were hoping to read about some great oral sex, but my 51st date earned his nickname because he speaks two languages and loves to email me witty little sayings in his second tongue. He also uses a lot of exclamation marks, and was so enthusiastic and excited to meet me that we set our first date for mid-week instead of waiting for the weekend.

We met at one of my favorite sushi bars. Let me just say that there was an instant synchronistic attraction and the night was simply delightful. "Light years beyond what I felt with the Botanist" is the way I described it to a friend after the date, because he had all of the warmth and humor that I appreciate in a man without any sarcasm or phoniness. He's a few years younger than I am, nice looking, with a full head of thick curly brown hair. Since I am usually not attracted to older men, this is a big plus. Another bonus: our kids are the same ages and they all live in the bay area, so there is the possibility of a road trip together in the future. I am also ecstatic that he likes the same kind of raw fish that I do - live clams and poke - and a willingness to try new things, like sea urchin and live shrimp. I now realize that if a date doesn't like sushi it will be a dealbreaker for me. I love this kind of food and can't imagine being with a man who wouldn't enjoy it with me as often as possible.

CB and I stayed out very late (on a school night!) eating, talking and then watching a movie. It was the most happy and comfortable I've felt on a date in a long time. We are going on a second date this weekend, for which he says he's planning something special. We are both interested, however I am holding back a little in an attempt be careful with my emotions and be more discerning than in the past. In fact, I have a date with #52 (the Widower) tomorrow, just to help me keep things in perspective. I learned a good lesson about keeping my enthusiasm in check from the past few dates, and am hoping to demonstrate my skills in that arena this time around. Speaking of that, I'm so glad that I called things off with the Botanist as soon as I did! The benefits of becoming more aware of my gut feelings are paying off for me in a big way, especially with the men I'm meeting this week. And hopefully, one of them might some day prove to be very proficient at giving oral exams!

If His Name Is Dave...

I recently asked my friend Randy to read this blog and let me know what he thought about it. He very diligently read the entire saga from back to front - all  92 posts! His reaction: he liked it, thought it was pretty funny, and then he wrote a song about it, because he's a songwriter and that's what he does best.*

He also offered up a suggestion: perhaps it might be fun if I added some details about how dating was for me in my teens and 20s compared with how it is now. Randy is my age - we were friends back in our college days, so I was rather surprised by his request, because I didn't really date much back then. In fact, I probably went on a grand total of 4 or 5 dates in all before I got married at age 24. Hey, I'm not alone - Tina Fey wasn't exactly popular with the guys at that age either!

As best as I can recall, back in the dark ages, "dating" went like this: you met someone, you were attracted to each other, you made out one night, and then you were a couple, until you were ready to move on. No big deal at the beginning or the end, at least for me. I mostly hung out with a large group of friends, except when I was "going out" with someone. The dating pool was made up of guys you went to school with or maybe met at a concert through friends, and it was all very casual. There was no getting your hair done, getting a pedicure, shaving your legs, or agonizing over what outfit to wear to go out to dinner. One of those boyfriends took me out to different events on a few occasions, but I think we were already a couple when that happened, and I don't remember those "dates" being anything like they are for me now.

 The biggest difference between dating Then and Now is where I meet men. Never in my wildest dreams would I have conceived of internet dating as the only way of finding them (well, I never imagined that there would be an internet either, so there you go). Back then I met boys everywhere I went, and immediately knew if there was an attraction between us. Making their acquaintance produced zero anxiety and there were no "pre-date jitters." The backwards "modern" way of meeting is much more nervous-making. After all of the buildup via email and phone calls, things have the potential of instantly going from positive to negative upon initial contact, where you finally and spontaneously discover if chemistry exists or not. So far, the negatives have drastically outnumbered the positives, and I don't know which hurts worse:  having the man mentally reject me right away, or trying to act polite because I am totally uninterested at the first sight of him.

Or, maybe Randy wanted me to compare the sexual aspects of dating Then vs. Now?  OK, the biggest difference about Then: it was the 1970s, and nobody used protection for the purpose of preventing sexually transmitted diseases. The only thing that we were interested in preventing was pregnancy, and that was accomplished by taking the pill. The onus was completely on the women; men preferred the feeling of sex without condoms (that hasn't changed) and in my experience, they never offered to use them as a preferred method (this is very different now - they always offer). There was no protocol for delaying sex on the girl's part or expectations of third-date sex on the boy's end, because it was the era of making love, not war. First-date sex was commonplace and very typical Back Then. It simply didn't occur to us that the future of our relationship might be compromised by giving in so quickly to that that urge, which was perceived as a completely natural and beautiful gift from the gods of love. Thankfully, my perception of sex as a beautiful gift is still the same, even though I've yet to give in to the urge on a first date in the Now.

 So there you have it, Randy. I'm not usually inclined to look back on what might have been, but just for one night, I'd love to go back to that young body knowing what I know now. Because, as Joni Mitchell said, "You don't know what you've got till it's gone..."




*Here are a few verses of Randy's song. It's loosely based on an ex of mine
(name changed to protect the anonymity of the bad boy in question):

"...My friend Mimi says my best chance of mating
is to find my soulmate through internet dating
I'm a hopeful romantic so I'll give it a try...
Somewhere there's gotta be a Mr. Right Guy!
But this internet Romeo is making me afraid
What if he turns out to really be a 'Dave'?


...Cause if his name is Dave
I don't wanna meet him
If his name is Dave!
He lies and he cheats,
He's selfish and uncaring
Without a brainwave...
I don't wanna meet him
if his name is Dave..."

World's Shortest Romance

The Botanist came on very strong, wined and dined me, and within two dates, convinced me to date him exclusively. Yes, he was smooth, but in a left-brain nerdy sort of way, which I found kind of charming at first. By date 3 though, his scientific mind and analytical nature was wearing thin. I had started to notice a lack of empathy in him, as if emotion towards loved ones was not his strong point. He didn't seem to have any close friends, and that bothered me too. But in the end, what convinced me to rethink the whole idea of being his girlfriend was his relationship with his son. Or rather, his estrangement from his son for the past three years. I realized that children weren't important to him when I invited him in to my house and he wouldn't look at a picture of my kids and me on my computer desktop. When I called his attention to it, he turned away and said, "Yeah, I already saw their pictures on your fridge." That ended it. Any man who wants to love me must at least acknowledge my children and respect that they are my first loves. And if he has children I expect that he will love them above all others. The Botanist can't even bring himself to pick up the phone and call his son who lives 2 miles away because of a falling out they had several years ago.  Sad, pathetic, and totally unacceptable to me.

And so, another one bites the dust. Surprisingly, I'm not sad or disheartened in the least about this. I'm actually proud that I was able to recognize that he was unsuitable boyfriend material so quickly, before I got attached. I had a couple of fun dates with him and we parted on friendly terms. No harm done, and I feel very happy about the fact that my bad date streak is over. I currently have 3 nice men emailing me, and 2 of them want to speak on the phone. Life is good.