Full Disclosure

So we’ve made some connection and a couple of emails have passed between us. Now what? Do we step out from the site and share our personal email addresses? How much am I willing to share without meeting? And how much do I actually want to know?

In the early days of email, our addresses were cryptic and anonymous. Now we so commonly use our names that signatures are redundant. Sharing personal email with a new flirtation is the gateway to Google searches and Facebook stalking.

Is this OK? I’m not sure. To protect myself and maintain some control, I have a separate email account sans last name. Unnecessarily optimistic, since I’ve googled me and found only trace signs that I exist. I’ve found others with my same name. Even a photo of my ex-husband.  Do I have to go public with My Frog Princes to put myself on the map? Naaa.

But when I get the passcode into his world, I use it. Hesitantly. I’ll do some precautionary due diligence, but I don’t want to dig too deep. How can we really understand things we read when they lack context? Bad intel may lead to unmerited high hopes or create unwarranted negative expectations. Do we admit to having done the searches, or is it taken for granted that we both will (The correct answer is “yes.”)?

When we learn too much in advance, what will we talk about if we meet? If we already know the answers to the interview questions, and there’s no connection, then what? Check our phones for emails?

The Personal Essay; An Overview

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.

How Did I Get Here?

Every relationship I ever had with a man evolved out of an existing social situation; we were friends who took it to the next level. I’ve never been on a date…not once, ever. Now that my 26 year marriage is over I’m constantly faced with the question, “Are you dating yet?”

First I wasn’t ready. Then I was. But how? I’m always meeting new people and putting myself into social situations. I figured I’d meet date-able men organically. So far, nope. The one man in over a year who piqued my interest wasn’t interested.

I’ve joined the pay-to-date world of online dating sites. No prince charming yet. A few nibbles. A few interesting communication threads. Some booty calls and weird contacts. Last week, my first ever date.

Why

I’m new to online dating. Actually, I’m new to dating. I’ve heard stories from friends about their experiences, and been warned that this wasn’t going to be easy. It’s not.

It’s impersonal, yet I take it personally sometimes. It’s calculated, so it’s hard to be natural. It takes some trial and error, but…I’m not sure what I expect.

Every time I sign on I see men who seem interesting, men who seem smart, men who seem arrogant, men who seem sweet, men who seem my “type” and men who don’t. Some are trying too hard, some not hard enough. Sometimes too many photos, sometimes too few. And I know that when men view my profile, they assess me the same way.

I am going to share my experiences and opinions. I’ll also share stories I’ve been told, and invite you to share your stories and impressions as well. Two rules: 1. Be nice. 2. Respect privacy. We are all vulnerable and doing our best. And to all my frog princes, good luck finding your Cinderella!