I don't quite know why I feel like things are "going well" at OK Cupid. Actually, I have no way of knowing. But it's been a pleasant enough experience checking out profiles, comparing answers to the match questions, and wondering whether I am going to take this story any further.
Somehow, I was feeling so pumped by my OKC experience that I got the (ill-conceived) idea to check out TransGenderDate.com. Things moved along smoothly enough at first--I built out my profile, using the same photos I used on OKC, got my ID verified, and made my first blog post, an introduction of sorts.
Within an hour of doing that, I was descended upon by a pack of rabid dogs. Nine really harsh comments appeared, making fun of my writing, pointing out a typo I made and suggesting I had cognitive issues as a result. One dissected my article paragraph by paragraph, and attempted to cut me to the quick, psychologically-speaking, with a very practiced hand (at this particular kind of cruelty). One of the "nicer" ones simply had the title "Yawn..." and an embedded YouTube video of crickets chirping. Cute.
Oh, there was this one guy who might have been making fun of me too, but could have been giving me some "friendly" advice. He suggested that I was being given the standard "warm welcome" for newbies who hadn't lurked long enough to grok the culture there. I probably should have thanked him for that.
The comments were mostly from women, and the one giving me the free paragraph-by-paragraph personality analysis took the additional step of blocking me before I even knew who she was, or could read her comments. It was like she had no other use for me except to dump some shit on me and disappear. What sort of person does that? Opportunity missed (for a "teaching moment.")
I've been in similar situations before, where you're expected to keep your mouth shut until you know whose asses need to be caressed in order to be welcomed into the fold. But those were discussion groups--not a little blog connected to a profile on some dating site. Imagine some guy after his first day ever on Facebook being savaged from a dozen, angry FB regulars because his first comment about Farmville was "meh?"
Fucking harsh.
I took it rather personally too, I'm afraid. I was embarrassed by the typo (numerous jokes about me being too "literate" to know what spellcheck was), my face got hot while I read the comments, which seemed to build on each other with a sort of resonant nastiness.
So did I take it all in stride, shrug it off with a laugh, my pried intact--"like a man?" Nope. I deleted my account right then and there. What a ninny, right? I didn't even screen-cap it for future reference. I was so taken aback by what happened that I didn't want to be there any more. I didn't want anything more to do with such a place, so full vile and mean-spirited people.
I feel like a fucking idiot for even letting it get to me. Who the fuck were these people to me, anyway? Random strangers that I would probably never be friends with under any circumstances anyway. Why would a give a flying fuck about what ANY of them thought about me?
I definitely have some soul-searching to do. Even though nothing like this has happened with OK Cupid, it has shaken my confidence a little. How presumptuous am I being with my activities there thus far? Example: For shits and giggles I re-did my profile questions with a bunch of pseudo-haiku poems. A couple of them are OK, but they're kind of "slap dash" and I'm sure I'm not "impressing" anyone.
Well, I guess I need to lick my wounds and "man up" if I intend to put myself out in the world again.
In the meantime, I'll just write a stupid Blogger post for my OKC friends to wince at.
What can I say? I've got it goin' on, I really do!
Siwwy Wabbit!
Friday, September 20, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Welcome OKC peeps!
The last time I was in a relationship, and coincidentally, the last time I had sex with someone other than myself, was 2008. It was also supposed to be the last time I would ever get involved with someone I met online. As you might guess, it didn't turn out well. She was a lovely London-based artist and yogini that I met via MySpace and Facebook the year before. We were emotionally-entangled before we ever physically met, which set the stage for a very awkward week together when we finally did. Although our hearts and minds were game, something was missing on the physical plane.
I now believe that biochemical compatibility plays a stronger role in bonding with another than I previously assumed. It may even be more about the "energy" that accompanies physical presence. I cannot say for sure. But after that experience I decided that I would tread more carefully in the future where online love connections were concerned.
For awhile I was kind of resigned to being alone. After all, I don't feel particularly lonely, and am somewhat solitary by nature. Were I to die today, I would have few regrets, particularly were loving and sexing are concerned. I've loved and been loved by some really amazing people, and been through most of the peaks and valleys that come with being intimate with someone, including making a life together.
Still, there's an unacknowledged yearning that I usually don't even notice unless I'm in the presence of someone I find myself particularly attracted to--a hint of magic, or some powerful intoxicant of "possibility" which may be more romantic projection than something perceived. Whatever it is, something awakens in me at that moment and I realize that maybe I'm not done with love (in the romantic sense) after all.
So for the past several years I've been kind of tuning out any ideas about being with someone again, despite the occasional heart pangs I just described. I kind of figured if/when the "right" person came along, I'd just know it. Until then, best not think too much about it. And that's where I've been at with "dating" for the past five years or so.
But when a very good friend of mine in Ireland was recently lamenting the end of a long-term relationship, and how hard it was for her to meet quality men, I thought of OK Cupid, because I had recently seen some mention of it in HBO's brilliant drama The Newsroom. I might have heard something about OKC before, but I didn't give it a serious look. I thought it was just another E-Harmony or Match.com. When the aim of helping out my friend, I signed up for an account--thinking I could better "sell her" on the idea if I poked around a bit myself.
I kind of got "sucked in" by it, to be honest. I was impressed by how well-designed it was. It seemed rather smart in how it set up matches and encouraged people to risk reaching out to people they found interesting. I've been playing around with it for a week now, and still haven't reported my findings back to my friend, because my research now involves my "real life." I'm actually finding it all sort of fun and intriguing.
I mentioned on one of the iterations of my profile (I keep changing it) that I feel like I may be too much a "work in progress" to attract the interest of the kind of women I might be interested in. This is a theme I'm likely to focus on a lot as I wade more deeply into OK Cupids mysterious waters. I sort of see this a long-term project that becomes part of the even larger enterprise of re-creating my own life into the "life of my dreams," something I've lacked the courage to even attempt up to now.
I used to think that I need to "better myself" to a certain level before I'd even entertain dating again. But as there is no defined end point, such a day may never come. It wouldn't be that big a deal given I claim that I don't "need" to be with anyone to be happy. (I truly believe this.) On the other hand, why can't meeting new people, maybe delighting some of them with my unique presence, and being delighted and challenged in turn, be part of the journey?
After all, NOW is all there is. (Eckhart Tolle space, for the initiates among you.)
This is but an introduction. I'd like to pop in here from time-to-time, I don't know how often, to reflect upon my OKC adventures. I haven't set any sort of editorial policy as yet with respect to what I might write about. For example, how specific can I get here? I'm inclined to protect the anonymity of OKC people I interact with--although I may want them to be able to recognize themselves, even though others might not so easily.
Finally--I am currently limited in that I have a free account, and have elected not to know who looks at my profile. So if you want me to notice you, rate me and/or message me.
Much love to you all, and may you find what you are looking for--be it on OK Cupid or elsewhere!
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
When a friendship is challenged by someone's "other half"
(I originally wrote this in April 2013 - the last time I hung out with the people described below was December 31, 2012. I left it as a draft all this time. As I'd like to write about some other things here soon, so I thought I'd just "pull the trigger," and publish it. I still haven't cleared the air with these people.)
I know a very nice man who I thought could be a good friend. When we met he was in a long-distance relationship with a woman who lived almost two thousand miles away, but had once shared a house with her.
About six months into our friendship, she moved back in with him, and things changed.
He loves her dearly, and I can see that he really appreciates having her around. Unfortunately, she doesn't care much for me, although she tries hard to tolerate me.
However, the last time I saw them (it's almost always "them" now that she's living with him again), things didn't go so well. She made an amazing dinner, and I told her so. But somehow we ended up in a private conversation while my friend was occupied with his kids, who were visiting that night. Something I said, the way I said it, or maybe my mere presence set her off. I felt really unwelcome, not sure of what I had done, or how I could "fix" it. I felt to leave, but as this would have made matters worse--because I was an invited guest that evening, I decided to linger a it bit so there wouldn't be an obvious causal relationship between her upset and my leaving.
A day or two later I emailed her to see how she was doing, and to apologize for not being more "tuned-in" to where she was at, as some greater sensitivity on my part might have kept her bad feelings from escalating to the point where she had to cry out in frustration and leave the room for some minutes.
She replied to my email, explaining that she wasn't feeling well that night, which may have contributed to what went wrong a couple days before. With language that felt a bit "stern" (but maybe just "emphatic") she gave me a list of things I could do differently in the future--like speaking more slowly and pausing more to give her a chance to speak. I grant that I was going at a different pace than she, but I did, in fact make an effort to hear her responses--and I can recall several of them. I was asking her questions, a lot of the, frankly, because I didn't understand the point she was trying to make. So I found it a bit weird that she didn't think she was given an opportunity to respond, but I may be thinking of a different part of the conversation than she, and I've already admitted that I was aware of not being "in tune" with her, not least of which in terms of pacing.
But then she made the following comment that kind of threw me for a loop:
On another note, I perceive that we have widely differing views, particularly on sexuality and gender, and you often speak as though you assume I think as you do. I find I often don't.
The reason being is that I have zero recollection of discussing such things with her. In fact, aside from the "how's it going?" variety, I suspect I could count all the conversations I've ever had with her on one hand. So it's a bit weird to imagine she has such as clear idea of our "widely differing views" on "sexuality and gender." WTF?
I was so astonished because I have some rather complex views on these subjects, and I'm pretty sure I never even discussed them in much of any depth with her boyfriend, let alone with her. I don't speak of women casually as "sex kittens" or as being "only good for one thing" either, because I don't believe that, and I find such talk kind of boring.
So what did she mean? I was was so gob-smacked by the implicit offense, and the passive-aggressive way she seemed to be communicating it, that I didn't bother to challenge or directly question where she came up with the idea. Instead I complained that I was being accused of crossing some sort of a boundary that was never shared with me--as if I was just supposed to "know" where it was. And had I known, I could have taken more care around such subjects. (But as I said--I have no recollection of ever discussing such matters with her.) She didn't explain her position further, only to say she appreciated that I "heard her" and that I meant no harm.
But...what I do recall is sharing the fact with her boyfriend, a couple months before she moved back in with him, that several years ago I once paid for the services of a very lovely Venezuelan M2F sex worker in Amsterdam (prostitution is legal there). I know some feminists have very strong views on the subject of sex work, and according to them--the fact that I paid a woman for sex makes me a "rapist." (The fact that this "woman" was technically a man further confuses matters--as some transphobic feminists deny transsexual women their rights as "women," with almost hateful scorn.) I didn't know what my friend's partner's sexual politics were. She did describe an incident that she and my friend had been in recently where there were more men than women, as feeling a little "unsafe." That's telling, in retrospect. But in all honesty, I don't really know.
I could have it all wrong, frankly.
In any event, I'm not feeling particularly warm and fuzzy about either of them. Her remark, being perceived as "passive-aggressive," and weirdly so, makes me want to steer clear of her. And the prospect that my friend shares details of my life that might better be shared by me in person with someone who has such strong, emotional reactions to them kind of challenges my trust in him. This, added to the fact that he became much less "available" (which I understand--we've all been there) once his girlfriend was back living with him, has made it easier to keep my distance.
I imagine eventually I will "get over myself" with this, but that day hasn't arrived just yet.
I know a very nice man who I thought could be a good friend. When we met he was in a long-distance relationship with a woman who lived almost two thousand miles away, but had once shared a house with her.
About six months into our friendship, she moved back in with him, and things changed.
He loves her dearly, and I can see that he really appreciates having her around. Unfortunately, she doesn't care much for me, although she tries hard to tolerate me.
However, the last time I saw them (it's almost always "them" now that she's living with him again), things didn't go so well. She made an amazing dinner, and I told her so. But somehow we ended up in a private conversation while my friend was occupied with his kids, who were visiting that night. Something I said, the way I said it, or maybe my mere presence set her off. I felt really unwelcome, not sure of what I had done, or how I could "fix" it. I felt to leave, but as this would have made matters worse--because I was an invited guest that evening, I decided to linger a it bit so there wouldn't be an obvious causal relationship between her upset and my leaving.
A day or two later I emailed her to see how she was doing, and to apologize for not being more "tuned-in" to where she was at, as some greater sensitivity on my part might have kept her bad feelings from escalating to the point where she had to cry out in frustration and leave the room for some minutes.
She replied to my email, explaining that she wasn't feeling well that night, which may have contributed to what went wrong a couple days before. With language that felt a bit "stern" (but maybe just "emphatic") she gave me a list of things I could do differently in the future--like speaking more slowly and pausing more to give her a chance to speak. I grant that I was going at a different pace than she, but I did, in fact make an effort to hear her responses--and I can recall several of them. I was asking her questions, a lot of the, frankly, because I didn't understand the point she was trying to make. So I found it a bit weird that she didn't think she was given an opportunity to respond, but I may be thinking of a different part of the conversation than she, and I've already admitted that I was aware of not being "in tune" with her, not least of which in terms of pacing.
But then she made the following comment that kind of threw me for a loop:
On another note, I perceive that we have widely differing views, particularly on sexuality and gender, and you often speak as though you assume I think as you do. I find I often don't.
The reason being is that I have zero recollection of discussing such things with her. In fact, aside from the "how's it going?" variety, I suspect I could count all the conversations I've ever had with her on one hand. So it's a bit weird to imagine she has such as clear idea of our "widely differing views" on "sexuality and gender." WTF?
I was so astonished because I have some rather complex views on these subjects, and I'm pretty sure I never even discussed them in much of any depth with her boyfriend, let alone with her. I don't speak of women casually as "sex kittens" or as being "only good for one thing" either, because I don't believe that, and I find such talk kind of boring.
So what did she mean? I was was so gob-smacked by the implicit offense, and the passive-aggressive way she seemed to be communicating it, that I didn't bother to challenge or directly question where she came up with the idea. Instead I complained that I was being accused of crossing some sort of a boundary that was never shared with me--as if I was just supposed to "know" where it was. And had I known, I could have taken more care around such subjects. (But as I said--I have no recollection of ever discussing such matters with her.) She didn't explain her position further, only to say she appreciated that I "heard her" and that I meant no harm.
But...what I do recall is sharing the fact with her boyfriend, a couple months before she moved back in with him, that several years ago I once paid for the services of a very lovely Venezuelan M2F sex worker in Amsterdam (prostitution is legal there). I know some feminists have very strong views on the subject of sex work, and according to them--the fact that I paid a woman for sex makes me a "rapist." (The fact that this "woman" was technically a man further confuses matters--as some transphobic feminists deny transsexual women their rights as "women," with almost hateful scorn.) I didn't know what my friend's partner's sexual politics were. She did describe an incident that she and my friend had been in recently where there were more men than women, as feeling a little "unsafe." That's telling, in retrospect. But in all honesty, I don't really know.
I could have it all wrong, frankly.
In any event, I'm not feeling particularly warm and fuzzy about either of them. Her remark, being perceived as "passive-aggressive," and weirdly so, makes me want to steer clear of her. And the prospect that my friend shares details of my life that might better be shared by me in person with someone who has such strong, emotional reactions to them kind of challenges my trust in him. This, added to the fact that he became much less "available" (which I understand--we've all been there) once his girlfriend was back living with him, has made it easier to keep my distance.
I imagine eventually I will "get over myself" with this, but that day hasn't arrived just yet.
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