The Date-aholic

I used to be a serial dater.

After my divorce over a decade ago, my entire mission in life was to get someone (else) to put a ring on it. For a girl who never envisioned herself being married in the first place, I was suddenly very afraid of being alone.

I told a friend of mine today that despite being married (and divorced), I have never been proposed to. My ex-husband unceremoniously asked me marry him in the mall marking lot shortly after we bought an inexpensive engagement ring at the jewelry store. And by “asking me to marry him,” I mean that he handed me the bag that the box was in. Love songs are not written about moments like this. The wedding was worse. We drove to the beach, stayed with some friends of his whom I had never met, and asked them to be the witnesses at our courthouse wedding. Our parents weren’t even there. In fact, my mom tried desperately to talk me out of it right up until the moment I said, “I do.” I should have listened to her. I donned a dark purple v-neck sweater and jeans, and my hair was terrible…short hair cut, curled and flipped out. The pictures make me cringe.

The reason that I fell for Rat Bastard is that I was just getting over having my heart broken. I had only been in love once, and when I realized it was never going to amount to anything, it hurt. I was in college and living with these really bad roommates who partied like rock stars, and I decided that I had to get out of there. I decided to make a run for it and started looking for an apartment. I had an appointment at an apartment community nearby, and Rat Bastard held the door open for me as I walked in. I thought it was fate. In actuality, I was so happy to meet someone who treated me the way my former love interest didn’t that I was all in before I even knew what hit me.

Long story short, our marriage was short-lived. I stuck it out longer than I probably should have because I wanted to make it work for my daughter. Isn’t that what a lot of us do? I regret it now, but at the time, it seemed like a great idea. This girl does not fail, and I was not about to let marriage be the thing that I did not succeed at. However, it turns out, I’m pretty terrible at relationships in general. After my divorce was finalized and I decided to take a stab at the dating game again, it was a pretty obvious that I brought along all of my emotional baggage. I feel kinda bad for the guys that I went out with. I was a trainwreck in cute wedges.

I went on soooo many dates. I online dated. I went out with guys who slipped me their numbers at gas stations. I dated my neighbor (which made things really awkward after the breakup). I am still friends with some of them. Some of these guys were nuts, and many probably thought that I was the nutty one. It wasn’t until years later that I realized how much drama I probably brought to each of these relationships, and I must have been pretty awful. I spent years looking for the one, but I wasn’t really in a place emotionally to even allow for that to be an option. I fell in love twice with guys who were really wonderful but who just weren’t right for my life at the time.

I haven’t been on a date in over five years. The last guy that I dated was the twins’ dad, aka Captain Douche (I’ll explain the name later). He pretty much did me in. After that went south, I was done. I haven’t really had much of a desire to meet anyone at all in ages, and I don’t know if that will ever change. I told my brother today that I will probably be one of those people who meets her soul mate when she is in her 70s, and if that happens, I guess that I will be okay with it. The thought of dating while the twins are so young terrifies me. Plus, I am pretty set in my ways. I don’t know that I really even want to deal with that chaos myself.