Dating in DC: A Gay Man’s Journey

Up until now in my short blogging life, I have managed to avoid the topic of dating. Ironically, relationships of the romantic variety are a dominant theme in my home, workplace, and church. Dating is frequently the go-to subject change at Happy Hour or dinner, once my friends have exhausted discussions of their latest achievements or set-backs at work or home.

When I was younger, I relished the opportunity to gab about dating. It was a constant source of entertainment. The fact that I have been a particular train wreck in this area provided my friends and me with endless laughter. For a while, I even posted on Facebook with the [hastag] #dyingalonewithcats, which was in itself a joke as I am not a “cat person”.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the time has arrived, a long-awaited opportunity to share some of what I have learned, primarily through error, about love in the big city. Please try to understand that I am making myself vulnerable here before laughing yourself to tears.

Dating in Washington, D.C. is a particular challenge. Unlike in middle America, the West Coast, or Europe — three places where I have dated — D.C. thrives on a mentality of constant achievement. If one is not progressing in their social or professional life, then it is unfairly judged as a lack of character, drive, or ability. Now, as a competitive and spirited person, I don’t mind this challenge. In fact, I frequently advise new friends relocating to D.C. to find a way to laugh at this absurd lifestyle. Fortunately, my ability to do just so has served me well, and might be part of the charm that I attempt to bring to those around me.

Regardless, this long standing tradition of warrantless competition to be the alpha translates to dating in some regrettable ways. I (claim to have) coined the term “dating resumes” some time ago, and it has stuck in my head as an accurate way of describing the dating scene in D.C. today. We don’t date people in D.C., we date a person’s ability to aid us in our quests to promote ourselves. In particular, as a minister, I have not enjoyed this element of the scene; yet, in attempting to sugar coat it, I have only found frustration or anxiety by pretending that it wasn’t true.

For example, I went through a period of trying to date regardless of resume. One story ended tragically when I intentionally pursued a particularly cute Starbucks barista. I managed to avoid the subject of my career success for multiple weeks, while we enjoyed each other’s company. When he finally wrestled out of me that I was a person of some influence and success, he panicked, and I found myself in a spiral of apologizing for my accomplishments, until he decided to break up. This was also true of the Macy’s sales associate and the United Airlines flight attendant. Each of whom broke off dating with assumptions that either they couldn’t satisfy my presumed need to climb the career success ladder, or they just caved to their own sense of inadequacy and imbalance. I was heartbroken. These were terrific, funny men with whom I could have possibly had a future, but was not given the benefit of the doubt.

So, returning into the natural order, I have continued to look for methods of dating that might reveal substance regardless of rank or power. This quest has not been served by the fact that I made a change to serve professionally in my faith community. My faith and queer communities are frequently at odds with one another, and as a representative of both, I am involuntarily called upon to account for or bridge deep divides. This reality translates to dating in one of three ways. I am either the next boy’s presumed therapist with the immediate expectation that I will be a talented agent to provide pastoral care. Or, I am evidence of social plague, meaning that I am ghosted quite soon after meeting due to lack of understanding of my calling. The worst for me, however, is when I am seen as the possible source for fulfilling a sexual kink. This is usually connected to the boy’s previous mistreatment by the church. In other words, how can I translate my profession to my prowess in the bedroom, or allow him to work out his aggression toward the Church with me sexually. Don’t get me wrong, it is always nice to feel desired. It is just not a platform for the type of sweet and endearing story that I would hope to one day share with my mother.

Despite all the hoops and set-backs, I have fallen in love before, just once. He was a cosmopolitan and beautiful foreign service officer, and I was a rising nonprofit executive. We looked good together, until his commitment-phobia kicked in and was subsequently served with a transfer to Dubai. He was followed by a parade of Washington elites, doctors, lawyers, international businessmen, pentagon officials (before Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was repealed), a couple of federal agency officials, and one foreign minister. Each one an intriguing prospect, until my inability to talk about shallow topics in perpetuity led to awkward but real conversations about what it really means to be in love with another human being, or something else eternal or complex. My latest spectacular failure serves as the leader of an organization that I greatly admire; however, his inability to be anything but cynical or dark behind closed doors has led us to some horrible conversations that don’t seem to be worthy of either of our time.

What do I do? As I enter my late 30s, I find myself resigned to living a thriving and interesting life, even if I manage it alone most of the time. I certainly get lonely, and I am preciously aware that the common factor in all of my stories of dating is me. I like to joke with friends that I am consistently attracted to what I term the “emotionally stunted a**holes” of America; however, that is not a fair characterization. So, in an attempt to minimize and deflect, I go for the laugh. I suppose there are worse qualities.

I digress. I promised at the outset of this blog to provide some wisdom or life lessons on the issue of dating, or at least dating in a hyper and extreme place like Washington, D.C. That was a foolish promise. But, I will leave you with the reflection that it is ok to soldier on with minimum expectation that your loneliness will ever be cured by a successful dating relationship. If nothing else, I hope that my funny and awkward insights and stories have served as an example that in pursuing the life for which you are truly called that you will have many bright opportunities to experience amazing people. I don’t regret the choices that I have made, even if they haven’t maximized my search for “the one”. So, take heart, locate your soul, and find beauty in this life, especially when it is not what you expect.

Go in Peace!