Yes, I am the center of the universe

If you’ve been following me for a while, I owe you an apology.*

I wanted to live the dream for you. I wanted to show everybody that it’s possible and practical to find love after going through a painful marriage and divorce.

I heeded the advice of every dating guru ever. I focused on me. I built my career. I took the time and put in the work to figure out who I am and to learn how to stand on my own two feet. I built an interesting life for myself. I started a YouTube channel. I started a blog. I produced an anti-bullying project. I built a small-but-powerful following.

And I went out. A lot. I moved to a larger city with a much larger dating pool. I spent six months of my life going out, meeting guys, going on dates, trolling dating apps until my eyes crossed, and making all sorts of connections with wonderful people.

I wanted to give you a happy, fairytale ending.

And on one fateful afternoon, I found it, but it wasn’t what you wanted for me. It wasn’t what I wanted to give you. I came up empty.

He found me

I had made the executive decision to spend the day with myself. I’d had some kind of obligation every day for the previous several months, so I wanted to just take a moment and appreciate my own company. I drove out to Madrid, New Mexico to hike around the mountains and take some pictures in the town.

There is perhaps no better therapy than cruising around the middle of nowhere with the windows rolled down and your favorite songs as company. On this particular afternoon, I’d chosen Taylor Swift’s 1989 album, apropos my entire life story.

When I got home, I sat down to work on my to-do list and took a hit to feed my worst addiction: Grindr. I had a message waiting. I checked out the guy’s profile. We’ll call him Matt to protect the innocent.

Matt was handsome, age-appropriate, and tall, so he’d already checked more boxes than 90% of the guys who’ve approached me. We started talking. He burned through a lot of topics in rapid-fire, so I learned that Matt was a single young professional who had recently relocated from a much larger city with his golden retriever.

He seemed friendly and enthusiastic and funny. He appealed to me on almost every level.

He asked me to get drinks with him later.

“Thank you, but tonight doesn’t work for me.”

I went back to filling out my editorial calendar and editing my photos from the day. I ended up writing a blog post and finishing up a video I’d been editing for a few days. Then I watched a few horrible movies that had been on my backlog.

And then I remembered that I’d left Matt hanging. Whoops.

I checked my messages. I had 10. Oh boy.

Matt had asked to reschedule for a time that worked for me. Then he’d gotten impatient and said that I could just tell him I wasn’t interested. He’d tried to send a meme that he thought was funny and said reminded him of me. And then he asked if he had been too forward. And then finally he’d resigned himself to, “Okay, maybe I’ll see you around, I guess.”

Matt had somehow talked himself into becoming a neurotic, straw-grasping ball of insecurity. On some level, he was charming for the fact that he didn’t turn spiteful and start telling me what I was missing out on. Part of me wanted to apologize for forgetting about him and move on. But I still wasn’t down for drinks.

Empathy and impatience

I sympathize with Matt. I sympathize with all the Matts of the world. I used to be a Matt. Occasionally, I still have Matt-like moments, although I finally learned to stop vocalizing them.

And I think that’s what I’ve learned in this process. I think that’s the important takeaway I have for you, from my dating journey so far.

I try to forge my own path, but I don’t want to reinvent the wheel. That’s why I gave the old dating advice a fair chance. They say you have to learn to be independent and love yourself fully before you can ever step into a relationship.

“Work on yourself first. When it’s the right time, he’ll come along. You’ll find him.”

I committed myself to giving me-time a shot.

And I did find him. In fact, I’ve found a lot of guys. I’ve found several dozen guys who are attractive, interesting, engaging, available, and friendly. That’s what’s on my list. Those are my requirements. But it hasn’t worked out with any of them because I didn’t want to make it work.

Now that I am independent, I’m thrilled. I’m excited. I am the happiest I have ever been. I love where I am, and I love where I can see myself heading even more.

And I seem to be mentally stuck doing all that completely alone. Guys demand time, energy, and attention that I prefer to dump into my work and my goals.

Is this it?

There’s merit to the dating wisdom. I definitely feel that people should be fulfilled on their own rather than making desperate attempts to latch onto someone else just to feel whole. After all, that’s how abusive relationships tend to start: with a fear of being alone and a sense of needing the other person.

But what if I’ve taken it too far? Have I learned to be so happy on my own that I will never be happy if I’m not on my own? Is my time so limited and my energy so focused that I’m not even capable of relationships anymore? Am I doomed to get a couple cats and resign myself to spinsterhood forever?

Possibly.

And I am 100% okay with that.

I have failed, but I’m gonna call it failing forward. I’m going to consider this a win.

I found love after divorce. I found someone to love, and someone to love me. And that’s me. I am the center of my own universe and I am completely happy that way. I failed to deliver for you and I am over the moon that I did. And I’m sorry.

* And if you have no idea who I am, get to know me on my blog or my YouTube channel or follow me on Twitter!