I suppose you’re reading because that title just begs to be looked at a little bit more closely. I mean, look at it!
Here’s a little clarification. I’m a single mom of four kids, three are teens. I’ve been married twice. Go ahead and arm yourselves with stones to throw at me. The catastrophe that is my dating life is actually quite comical. It’s the basis of every Lifetime movie of the week that they’ve yet to make.
Don’t believe me?
My marriage dissolved because my ex is crazy. Not the kind of crazy most normal people are, but the kind that got him locked up in a mental ward crazy. The kind that meant I went through years of abuse at his hands before I could get away. But I did get away. I’m coming up on five years free in just a couple weeks.
After that, the Cliff’s notes version of my dating choices goes as follows: I caused a nine hour standoff with state police because I actually chose another crazy violent person, for serious. I broke up a marriage because I actually believed someone. I was told I was the greatest thing since sliced bread by one…until his ex came back into the picture…an ex that up until she came back was a non entity according to the first-date interrogations where it was stated it had been years since anyone had affected him at all, thereby making it feel incredibly safe to follow along on the beautiful path he was leading us on. A relationship of a few months ended two days before my birthday because he had a nightmare that revealed to him he couldn’t handle a mature relationship with me. Yes, he dumped me right before my birthday because he had a bad dream. I could go on. It’s all been bad. Really bad. But I suppose you should consider how those guys seemed like the optimal choices because they said the right things and did the right things and seemed like the right choices. Until they weren’t.
So here I am again, still navigating my way through possibly finding someone to enjoy life with. A mom, employee, full-time student has limited time to connect to men, so internet dating is the most logical choice. That, obviously, is a hit or miss, mostly miss, type of situation. It’s creepy, too. It’s like grocery shopping for a mate, and men want to squeeze my melons before they know my name.
Here are a few of the more colorful messages I’ve received over the three years I’ve been on again, off again, on again with my endeavors over at OkCupid.
Yeah, that’s what I’m up against. But!! Here I go again, anyway. Wish me luck.