I never had a flair for learning other languages and it was never more apparent than failing to understand almost thirty years of my ex’s deception. It suddenly struck me, if I date, that my inability to translate cheater code would be an issue. (Keep in mind, I haven’t dated in several decades and am still getting over the realization I was married to the “Dexter” of lying and cheating.)
What may seem like a simple case of mistrusting men, is really more complicated. It has more to do with me and the disconnection between what goes in my ears, travels through my head, and winds up in my heart. I’m relearning cognitive ability like a stroke victim and though the damage was not caused by a blood clot, it certainly mimics one.
Being deceived by the man I loved, had a family and decades of memories with, starved me of oxygen and left me gasping for air the last several years before I finally cut him off.
Unfortunately, the lasting effect is that it destroyed my faith that I can understand the real message behind the statements that people use to mischaracterize the truth. “She was unhappy.” Or, “We were incompatible.” My favorite is “We grew apart.”
(Note: I could write a manual on the “during the marriage deception part”, of divorce thanks to the education my ex provided. The signs of a cheating spouses are so typical it’s comical: sneaky phone calls and texting, hiding their phones, and new passwords; extending business trips or staying away from home longer on errands; new clothes, a new hairstyle, more interest in working out are just a few. Now it’s the guys that cheated on someone else I’m maintaining a wide berth from.)
Last year, sitting with my niece one night, as she scrolled through man after man online, I couldn’t imagine any one of them at my dinner table, much less in my bed. Amusingly, over a year later, going through that site again, some of the same guys are still there professing their need to find the love of their life unless “LOVEMYMAMAXX” or “GorgeousGeorgeXX” are repetitious handles for love-starved men.
As far as I can tell, the Two B’s of the online dating profile is bitterness and bullshit. Here are just a few examples I found on a dating site in minutes.
“I am a fan of high-waisted pencil skirts, skater skirts and dresses, and tasteful hats. I don’t want any more drama in my life.”
That guy likes to tell women how to dress. He needs a Barbie doll, not a woman. I think he’s the drama queen, not the ex.
“My marriage that is dissolving has lasted 22 years… she doesn’t understand me.
A language barrier maybe? Let’s get real he was cheating and she grew tired of it!
“I am extremely busy and don’t like to have my time wasted. I was married a long time to someone I never really loved. So here are some items that are a real deal breaker for me in having interest in someone. 1. Please be in decent physical shape.”
Mr. Agenda above has a photo that makes him look like a Sumo wrestler. Never loved his wife? Was that before or after she threw him out? He also seems in a hurry to cut to the chase and bed his victims since he isn’t fond of “wasting his time.”
“Looking for Tiny-Waist. No one that talks too much or asks me too many questions.”
His profile picture shows a guy, no shirt, beer-gut, and looks about 60, but says he’s 48. I wonder, what is it he doesn’t want to be questioned about?
“Yes, I admit it, I got tired of my bitchy wife after 20 years. I had enough. I’ve been prowling around a few years now, gorging myself on all the women out there like candy in a candy store. Well, I’m full now and want a permanent mate. I want someone who isn’t lazy and will jump in and help me entertain my friends, wears dresses, and is a tiger in bed.”
I don’t know where to start regarding this jerk. I think bashing his ex and characterizing women as “candy” says it all. I’m certain the prowling around probably goes back a long way.
“I want to spend the rest of my years on this earth with a woman who has her own money, can travel, isn’t one of those workaholics, isn’t going to bore me with their world views, is always feminine and thin. I don’t want to be told, I want to be asked. And unlike my ex-wives, who demanded too much and withheld affection when they were mad at me, I want to have physical love daily. I don’t want drama, also something I’ve experienced too much of.”
Mr. Relationship-Laundry-List obviously feels he’s a victim of his ex-wives. How many? Who knows?
I know people meet other people all the time online, I just won’t be one of them. I didn’t like blind dates thirty years ago, so I guess I will wither and die alone because I’m not doing that now either. Living alone doesn’t remotely scare me, but spending one minute with a boring mama’s boy, or an obnoxious narcissist, or a love-starved man does give me the willies. Reading online profiles, it also seems fifty-something men have turned into 18-year-old girls. “I want this, I want that, I have to have this.”
My ex used to say, “the perfect woman looks like a goddess, is mute, and after some fun in bed, turns into a cheeseburger and six of his best friends at midnight.”
I have my own version now. The perfect man looks like George Clooney, is hung like horse, and only opens his mouth to say, “You look beautiful; you should eat more; let me do the dishes.” He doesn’t use my razor or ask to borrow money and unlike my ex, every woman in his past thinks he’s the most honest, hardworking, terrific person they ever knew.
I don’t think I will keep the online profile I tested out this week, but if I do, I’ll add that.