Author: What's in a Profile?

Warm Hugs

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This really happened. I don’t remember who started it, but it was an unforgettable exchange.

I responded to a message or a like or a wink with an email. I sign my first name in emails. (For our purposes, my name is Lisa.) In return, I received several paragraphs that began by saying he’d been checking regularly hoping that he’d hear from me. Addressed to Amy. So happy to hear back from you, Amy. I love your profile, Amy. What turns you on or off in a man, Amy?

He shared details of his day going to the gym, doing laundry, and lying on the couch. He punctuated the captivating narrative with “warm hugs” and “smiles.” A real catch; Amy’s one lucky girl! Incidentally, many men describe themselves as “a real catch” in their profiles. Is that appealing to many women? Not to me, but to each his own.

My friend Amy is on the same sites that I’m on. Was she the Amy? Nope. Too bad for him, because for the right man, she will be a real catch.

Are You For Real?

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How are we supposed to know if someone is genuine? Remember the ever-so-slightly younger man to whom I sent my number? For several days I heard nothing. I sent another email, following up on something we’d had in common.

This time he did respond, telling me this is his last day on the site and that I should get in touch through his regular email account (odd, since I’d already sent my number). This appears to be a recurring MO, and a red flag. I don’t know why this is the play, but it doesn’t seem to be on the up and up. And it’s mean. It makes me want to sign off forever. I don’t.

I can’t stop. It’s an addiction. We’re playing the slots, trying to beat the odds. The game is compelling, voyeuristic, intoxicating. The rewards are within our reach, but so evasive.

Hope springs eternal as the bells start ringing and the lights are flashing; a lucky winner just hit the jackpot.

Me, A Cougar?

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My twentysomething daughter and her friends were at my place talking about their dating profiles. Like the old days of driving carpools, I was the fly on the wall. I actually sat at my computer taking notes on their advice to each other.

My number one take-away…less is more. If you’re more specific, you are narrowing your options. I rewrote my essays with this in mind. I wanted to make a few important but general points about who I am (or how I see myself), in a just a few compelling sentences.

TWO men emailed me, and both commented on my essay! Here’s the best part…they’re both a couple of years younger than me. Any woman who’s checked out online dating will tell you that many men specify their preference for younger women. Of course they do. They say their friends would tell you they look, feel and act younger than their ages. They may mention sex in their interests sections; they don’t mention Viagra.

I’ve sent my number to one and haven’t yet responded to the other. As usual, will update as there’s more to know.

Phew…I’m on fi-ya!!

Fantasy Date

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It was around midnight on a Friday or Saturday night, and I was checking in on one of my dating sites. As a rule I turn off the live chat features, mostly because I can’t multi-task. I can’t say why, but that night the feature was active and I found myself chatting with a man who definitely did not seem my type (nor I his).

This is a good time to tell you; I’m a bit of an innocent.

Our “conversation” was easy, about golf, golf lessons, golf courses. I don’t quite play golf yet, but I’ve been dabbling. Took a couple of lessons. Bought a golf skirt.

He started telling me about his work with women’s shoes. Very high end, very high heels. We chatted about our preferences in hard liquor. That we were both night owls. About clubbing (not for me).

Then back to the high heels. He was SURE I’d like them, and that they’d look great on me. I laughed (“hahaha”), said we’re clearly not a match, and we signed off.

It was a while before I realized that I’d totally missed his cues. This wasn’t a chat; it was a fantasy date, and I was a no-show.

How Will We Know?

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One of the oddest things about online dating is the process, and a process it is. It takes for granted that the photos we post accurately depict us as we are seen. That our essays convey some real element of our personalities. That emphasis falls on details we mean to highlight. That we are honest, with ourselves and with our viewers.

There is an assumption that we actually know what characteristics will appeal to us and that we can identify them. The algorithms determine that we match because we both like the beach and going to the movies, and sends us those connections to view.

Most of the personal essays are similar…good people who love their families, like to laugh, can be trusted, dine out, and go on vacations. An occasional essay conveys some personality and provides a little more insight. From that, one of you makes a move, and now you’re emailing. You learn just a little more. Where his kids live. How long he’s been single. He likes to grill. You’re ready for the phone call.

Awkward. You’ve compared resumes; it’s a phone interview with HR. You learn some more basics, just enough to see if you both think a date is worth your time.

Regardless of all the data in the world, a connection either happens or not when you’re face to face. You may think a certain person is “your type,” and then easy conversation and a natural comfort lead you to the unlikely match. If you get there and don’t “feel it,” you’re  outta luck because you’ve already covered the superficial topics via email and phone calls.

How many of our real candidates are we weeding out for the wrong reasons? I eliminate men with mustaches and men posed with motorcycles. Why?

Call Me, Maybe

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I have a friend who successfully gets past initial contacts and always has a date in the works. I asked her to share her secrets, listened to what she said, and gave her strategy a whirl. Seems she knew what she was talking about. And here I am, letting the secret out of the vault.

Following her lead, I joined an additional site, one she recommended. Based on my experiences so far, you get the most attention when you are new to a site. Not necessarily better, but higher volume.

I generally send actual messages addressing something in his profile. A photo, a caption, a reference. I try to include a question. I almost never receive a reply. I’ve changed my photos…no reply. Updated my essay…no reply. Or I get a “thank you,” with no engagement in conversation.

But when I see my friend, she’s waiting on another call. What am I doing wrong? No…what is she doing right?! She sends the winks. When she responds to winks and emails, she doesn’t become a pen pal. She invites him to give her a call.

This weekend I got a nibble from a guy who seemed interesting; I boldly suggested we talk. Voila! We have a call scheduled. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Thanks, Yoda.

My Virtual Boyfriend

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Almost immediately after registering on my first dating site, I made a connection. But that’s not where this story begins.

Last summer I saw one of the 70’s jam bands (think Grateful Dead-ish). At the show, I mentioned to one of my friends that the next love of my life could be in that crowd. Yes, the next love of my life could be a bald guy in tie dye.

Fast forward several weeks and I’m an internet dating virgin. I read a profile that interests me. He seems low key, and we share a couple of interests, so I send an email. And he responds. Wouldn’t ya know it, he was at that same concert. Jam bands are his jam.

We emailed back and forth a couple of times and set up a phone date. He was nice. Shared a lot about himself, and we had a few coincidences that made conversation easy enough. I checked him out on facebook, bald guy in tie dye at a concert. Every photo. Every single photo. I had my doubts.

The second phone call overwhelmed me. He’d thought about me non-stop and felt we had a real connection. Too much based on too little.

The next day I broke up with my virtual boyfriend like a millennial…by text.

The Personal Essay; An Overview

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The dating site’s matrix determines that we are both dog lovers and like to travel, we both eat and…small world…go to the gym. 100% match! The cornerstones of our real profiles are the personal essays and photos. The essay is our pitch, the chance to tell our stories and describe ourselves as we perceive we are perceived. Or hope we are perceived. Or how we would like to perceive ourselves.

We try to highlight our most unique, positive and desirable traits. Turns out most people like to laugh, are trustworthy, and are charitable. Our pasts are in our pasts. Everybody’s kids are the most important things in their lives (I hope we’re treating them as such.). And everyone just wants to meet someone nice to share nights by the fire, be Harry to Sally. (Or vice versa, or two Harrys, or two Sallys. As I am women seeking man, I’ll write in that tense.)

Some essays begin with the list of positive attributes. He’s “handsome, honest, caring, funny, successful, and modest.” Clearly modest. He’s a skydiving, mountain climbing, surfing, guitar player; when he drinks, he drinks Dos Equis.

What about the men who invite women to message them if “you have beautiful, long legs?” They bring my insecurities right to the surface. I wish I was the sexy, classy, sophisticated, accomplished woman you seek. Most of us aren’t. Most of us, and most of you, are good, regular people trying to lead good, regular lives.

The essays that make me read on have natural voices. If he cares to, he proofreads. If he’s funny, his essay is funny. If he’s casual, his tone is casual. If he’s honest, it doesn’t feel like a pitch. They leave me curious, wanting to know more.