I seem to be on a bit of a streak here, writing about online dating. What can I say - I write about what I know and what I feel, and right now, online dating takes up a lot of my emotional space.
On the surface, it would seem that online dating should be easier than the traditional method of going out, meeting new people, exchanging numbers, and waiting for the other person to call. With online dating, the site (sometimes) does the work of finding people for you. You put in some information about yourself and what you're looking for in a mate, and they send you the people who meet those criteria (again, sometimes). It removes the "sitting at the bar waiting for someone to approach you" element. It allows you to shop the pool of eligible singles without even having to hear them wax poetic about their favorite sports team or how awesome they are at their job. On some sites, you can even put in a few search criteria and browse hundreds of profiles at your leisure. It's easier than traditional dating in that you don't even have to interact with the person to determine if you're interested. You just have to look at their pictures and interests. Sounds better than approaching someone at the bar and wasting time chit-chatting, trying to figure out if you have something in common, right?
I have found this feature of online dating to be wonderful. I'm not great with striking up conversation with a complete stranger and the bar scene makes me queasy. A website that does that part of the process for me? Yes please. I can click through profiles that are sent my way, and if I decide that I'm not interested, I can just click to the next match and not have to worry about making a graceful exit! The other person doesn't even have to know that I'm not interested! That aspect really appeals to me because I don't like letting people down or crushing their hopes. Online dating lets you shop without the social commitment, however brief, that traditional dating requires.
The next step is where I feel like I get on an emotional roller coaster. I've been very intentional about sending emails and notes to the guys whose profiles interest me. I've read enough magazines and Buzzfeed features to know that a lot of guys appreciate the girl making the first move. If I had to wait for the guy to email me first...let's just say that the only guy to email me was a libertarian from Illinois who was looking for a housewife who would stay at home with the 8+ children he wanted to have.
Plus, if I am putting myself out there, I can prove to myself that I am making an effort, that I want to get something out of this process, that I'm serious...that I'm making some sort of progress in this area of my life, even when it feels like I'm standing still.
Emailing a new match is a small rush each time. I spend several minutes crafting the perfect casual greeting that will make him want to reply (or at least I used to...by now, I've got a pretty standard cut-and-paste version) and then when I hit Send, it's out of my hands. I get my hopes up just a little bit every time I email someone new. When will he reply? Will he reply at all? How much will it suck if he doesn't reply? Because there are some guys that I email because we have a few things in common, and I figure why not, and then there are others that I find a lot in common with and I really want to hear back from them. And deep in my heart, where thoughts of the future live...what if this is the person I'm meant to marry? I want to remember every detail of how we met.
A few days go by, no response from the email I've sent into the void, but my hopes are still up. Maybe he's busy this week. Maybe he got my email, but was in a place where he couldn't respond yet. Maybe he checks this account only once a week. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
A week goes by with no reply. No news is bad news. Now I have to make a choice - I could keep hoping that he'll respond, or I could let this one go, figuring he's not interested in me. It's not a conscious choice, exactly, more like a reluctant realization. It doesn't feel good to hear that someone isn't interested in you, but that's inevitable, especially in a forum like online dating, where there are so many potential connections to be made or broken.
I work through this process just about every day, over and over. I look forward to clicking through new matches every day, especially when there aren't any new messages in my inbox. Each day brings a new set of possibilities. New guys to make contact with. New guys who might want to talk to me. Maybe even The One. As much as I get annoyed by talk of soulmates, happily ever after, and The One, I can't help getting my hopes up just a little bit.
At the same time, each day brings risk. I risk being rejected. It might be easier to be rejected over the Internet, since I don't have to be embarrassed in front of other people, but it's also harder, because it's happening so much more often. It certainly doesn't hurt any less, at least for me. I've never been able to shake it off and move on as if I'm unaffected by it. I'm affected by everything, and sometimes quite deeply. Emotional depth is simultaneously a strength and a weakness.
Rejection just seems to be an inherent risk in online dating. I had no idea how hard it could be until I got into the thick of it. You put yourself out there, day after day, with no guarantee that someone will choose you. In the face of that scary truth, I still hold out hope that this process will yield a "success story." I don't want to stop putting myself on the line because I don't want to look back and wonder if there was something I missed, or something more I could have done. If I reach the end of my subscription with nothing to show for it, I will survive. It will be so so hard, but I've done hard before.
In the meantime, by the grace of God, we carry on. It will be worth it someday, right? :)
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Sunday, March 1, 2015
One in Four: Anatomy of an Anxiety Attack
I attend church just about every Sunday. I've gone to the same church since I was 13. I know almost every person there by name, and I'm pretty sure that most people know me. If not by name, then they at least recognize me from week to week. I teach Sunday school at that church, I've spoken in front of that church, I've played guitar and sang in front of that church, and I can get almost any kid in that church to give me a high five. I love that church.
I get anxiety in that church.
Usually it's pretty manageable. I have this homemade stress ball (a balloon filled with flour) that I can play with when I'm feeling fidgety or easily distracted. It helps me focus. My parents usually let me sit on the end of the aisle instead of in the middle, and that helps too. I don't feel so closed in that way.
In the past, I've had times where I had to leave the sanctuary and listen to the sermon from the narthex, where I'm not surrounded by people. I had to do that today because focusing on my stress balloon wasn't cutting it. I was sitting in my seat, Pastor Phil had just started his sermon, and I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. I tried to take deep breaths, but I couldn't make my lungs work. My hands were trembling, even with the balloon to hold. I felt like there was a small child sitting on my chest. My stomach was twisting. I felt warmer than usual. Then I felt colder than usual. Then I went back to feeling too warm.
This my friends, is a minor anxiety attack.
I stayed in church as long as I could, trying to ride it out, thinking that I could just sit tight and wait for it to end. It didn't, and I had to leave. There are these super comfortable chairs in the narthex and I went to sit on one of those. It took at least twenty minutes for me to feel normal and calm again. At one point, one of my students came down from the balcony and passed by me. She asked in a joking sort of way, "Hey Andrea, whatcha doin'?" I replied in a similarly joking sort of way, "Oh ya know, just hanging out!" I do that a lot - I reach for a flip one-liner before my mouth says the truth.
I've had this happen before. Most notably was during my semester in Spain. Our whole group was in Granada for the weekend, and they took us to a traditional flamenco dance hall. When I say 'traditional.' I mean that it built into a rock face. No windows, one door, and small rooms. Part way through the dance performance, I started panicking. There were lots of people packed into the room, it was getting warm, the stomping and castanets were echoing everywhere, and I just couldn't handle it anymore. I had to get out of there before I made a scene.
This anxiety disorder of mine rears its ugly head like this from time to time. It's not nearly as prevalent in my life as my depression is. I don't experience it every day or think about it every day the way I do with depression. Depression and anxiety often go hand-in-hand and they feed each other. I am fortunate enough that mine seems to be pretty mild and occasional. Some people, though, feel like I did every single day. They live in continual fear of having a panic attack and falling apart in front of other people.
Anxiety disorders are more common than you might think. Recent surveys show that about 1 in 4 people experience clinical anxiety at some point in their lives. That number is higher in college students and in people with co-occurring physical or mental health conditions. That's a lot of people, wouldn't you say?
Probably the most frustrating thing to me about anxiety is that, like depression, it doesn't make sense. I love my church, I love the people who go there, I would be comfortable talking to anyone there. I even feel comfortable getting up in front of church to play music or speak for 15 minutes about a mission trip I took recently. That doesn't faze me in the slightest, though you would think it would, if I have a tendency to feel anxious. But just sitting in church and listening to a sermon makes me feel like I can't breathe and like I need to escape to an empty area? What's up with that?
I don't have a logical answer. There's a biological answer, though - people with anxiety disorders have an overactive nervous system. Your body perceives a threat, and the system activates the processes that cause you to focus and get ready to respond to the threat. Most of the time, though, the threat is minimal (the full fight-or-flight reaction is not necessary to respond to the threat) or there's not a threat at all. But your body thinks there's something to be threatened by, and it all goes from there.
It's this illogic that makes it hard for other people to understand anxiety, I think. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't understand it if I hadn't experienced it before, even with my education and training as a counselor. People can say, "You're fine, there's nothing to be afraid of here, you know everyone here, the door is right there, why are you panicking?" But it doesn't work that way. I could have said all of those things to myself this morning in church, but it doesn't make me panic less. It's just something that I have to sit in and endure.
Chances are good that, if there are more than 3 people in your life, you know someone with anxiety. It could range anywhere from mild to severe. OCD, PTSD, and agoraphobia are all anxiety disorders. Please don't discount or minimize their experience. It's very real for them, and that's what matters. I'm lucky to have people in my life that understand me and let me be who I am, but that's not true for everyone. Please don't tell someone with anxiety to calm down, or to think positively, or to try doing something to distract themselves. They've probably already tried these things and they probably just need someone to sit with them and ride the anxiety with them. Speaking from experience, that simple presence is more helpful than hearing advice or subtle reminders that there's something wrong with me.
I embrace my church and I embrace my anxiety. Both are part of my life and taking either of them away would leave me somehow incomplete.
I get anxiety in that church.
Usually it's pretty manageable. I have this homemade stress ball (a balloon filled with flour) that I can play with when I'm feeling fidgety or easily distracted. It helps me focus. My parents usually let me sit on the end of the aisle instead of in the middle, and that helps too. I don't feel so closed in that way.
In the past, I've had times where I had to leave the sanctuary and listen to the sermon from the narthex, where I'm not surrounded by people. I had to do that today because focusing on my stress balloon wasn't cutting it. I was sitting in my seat, Pastor Phil had just started his sermon, and I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. I tried to take deep breaths, but I couldn't make my lungs work. My hands were trembling, even with the balloon to hold. I felt like there was a small child sitting on my chest. My stomach was twisting. I felt warmer than usual. Then I felt colder than usual. Then I went back to feeling too warm.
This my friends, is a minor anxiety attack.
I stayed in church as long as I could, trying to ride it out, thinking that I could just sit tight and wait for it to end. It didn't, and I had to leave. There are these super comfortable chairs in the narthex and I went to sit on one of those. It took at least twenty minutes for me to feel normal and calm again. At one point, one of my students came down from the balcony and passed by me. She asked in a joking sort of way, "Hey Andrea, whatcha doin'?" I replied in a similarly joking sort of way, "Oh ya know, just hanging out!" I do that a lot - I reach for a flip one-liner before my mouth says the truth.
I've had this happen before. Most notably was during my semester in Spain. Our whole group was in Granada for the weekend, and they took us to a traditional flamenco dance hall. When I say 'traditional.' I mean that it built into a rock face. No windows, one door, and small rooms. Part way through the dance performance, I started panicking. There were lots of people packed into the room, it was getting warm, the stomping and castanets were echoing everywhere, and I just couldn't handle it anymore. I had to get out of there before I made a scene.
This anxiety disorder of mine rears its ugly head like this from time to time. It's not nearly as prevalent in my life as my depression is. I don't experience it every day or think about it every day the way I do with depression. Depression and anxiety often go hand-in-hand and they feed each other. I am fortunate enough that mine seems to be pretty mild and occasional. Some people, though, feel like I did every single day. They live in continual fear of having a panic attack and falling apart in front of other people.
Anxiety disorders are more common than you might think. Recent surveys show that about 1 in 4 people experience clinical anxiety at some point in their lives. That number is higher in college students and in people with co-occurring physical or mental health conditions. That's a lot of people, wouldn't you say?
Probably the most frustrating thing to me about anxiety is that, like depression, it doesn't make sense. I love my church, I love the people who go there, I would be comfortable talking to anyone there. I even feel comfortable getting up in front of church to play music or speak for 15 minutes about a mission trip I took recently. That doesn't faze me in the slightest, though you would think it would, if I have a tendency to feel anxious. But just sitting in church and listening to a sermon makes me feel like I can't breathe and like I need to escape to an empty area? What's up with that?
I don't have a logical answer. There's a biological answer, though - people with anxiety disorders have an overactive nervous system. Your body perceives a threat, and the system activates the processes that cause you to focus and get ready to respond to the threat. Most of the time, though, the threat is minimal (the full fight-or-flight reaction is not necessary to respond to the threat) or there's not a threat at all. But your body thinks there's something to be threatened by, and it all goes from there.
It's this illogic that makes it hard for other people to understand anxiety, I think. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't understand it if I hadn't experienced it before, even with my education and training as a counselor. People can say, "You're fine, there's nothing to be afraid of here, you know everyone here, the door is right there, why are you panicking?" But it doesn't work that way. I could have said all of those things to myself this morning in church, but it doesn't make me panic less. It's just something that I have to sit in and endure.
Chances are good that, if there are more than 3 people in your life, you know someone with anxiety. It could range anywhere from mild to severe. OCD, PTSD, and agoraphobia are all anxiety disorders. Please don't discount or minimize their experience. It's very real for them, and that's what matters. I'm lucky to have people in my life that understand me and let me be who I am, but that's not true for everyone. Please don't tell someone with anxiety to calm down, or to think positively, or to try doing something to distract themselves. They've probably already tried these things and they probably just need someone to sit with them and ride the anxiety with them. Speaking from experience, that simple presence is more helpful than hearing advice or subtle reminders that there's something wrong with me.
I embrace my church and I embrace my anxiety. Both are part of my life and taking either of them away would leave me somehow incomplete.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Andrea Tries: Online Dating - Match.com
Back in October, shortly after my 25th birthday, I bit the bullet (where did this expression come from, anyway? I would think biting a bullet would just cause a toothache) and decided to give online dating a real effort. I say "real effort" because I already had free profiles on a few different sites, but realized pretty quickly that you can't really DO anything with them if you don't pay. You can send "winks" and "smiles" and maybe search users for free, but you can't actually TALK to them without paying the membership. After some research and survey of a handful of popular sites, I narrowed it down to Match and eHarmony. I knew personally a few couples who had gotten married after meeting their spouse on one of these two sites, so I figured they would be good finalists. The final step was to crunch the numbers - which site was going to cost me less? After all, I am a fiscally responsible young adult (read: poor grad student), so I wanted to make sure that I would get the most out of my hard-earned money.
While this conversation had great comedic value when I posted it to Facebook, I was dying a little bit inside. I kept coming around to those feelings of sadness and frustration and hopelessness. I couldn't help feeling like I'd failed at this. Yeah, it didn't work out with Barry, but there was sure to be someone else, right? Except there wasn't someone else. Barry was the first date I'd had in years, the first guy to show any interest in me. I couldn't help taking that personally and feeling like it was my fault.
I settled on Match.com - $20/month for 6 months. It ended up being the same monthly price as eHarmony, but eH was going to make me pay for 12 months instead of only six. That's the other WONDERFUL thing about online dating sites. If you want to pay the least, you have to pay for at least six months upfront. A month to month plan costs upward of 60 bucks a month! No thanks. The other thing that attracted me to Match was their "6 Month Guarantee." Basically, if you paid for 6 months, kept a visible profile and picture, and emailed at least 5 different guys per month, they would give you an additional 6 months free if you didn't find your "Special Someone" in the first six months. I figured, worst-case scenario would be that I could think of it as $10/month if I didn't find someone; best-case scenario would be that I find my person and the $120 will be a distant memory in my financial landscape.
The first couple of months with Match were great. They send you between 8 and 11 Daily Matches based on your preferences (mine were Christian, Never Married, No Kids, Non-Smoker, and at least an associate's degree). I figured this was pretty reasonable - I wasn't stipulating only white guys, or only athletic and toned guys, or only guys with blonde hair, etc. They ask you to "rate" your Daily Matches, i.e. you click the check mark if you're interested in the person's profile or the X if you're not. Then, about 24 hours after you finish a round of Daily Matches, they'll send you another set.
Since I was really committed to this online dating venture, I rated my Daily Matches almost every day. About 75% of the time, I would X all of them. Either I was being extremely picky, or the matches were just bad. I was looking not only for a Christian guy, but a guy who mentioned something about his faith in the Biography section of his profile. I didn't want someone who just checked a box. So many of my matches mentioned nothing about their faith in their biography, and I would X them.
Around January, I started to notice that the number and quality of my matches was declining. I would get matches without any pictures or no profile information boxes filled in or matches that didn't meet even my basic preferences. Was I seriously getting to the end of the possible matches and now the system was just grasping at any guys that remotely fit what I was looking for? The claimed the system "gets smarter" with each match you rate, but I was unconvinced.
Logging into Match was sometimes the best and worst thing in my day. Initially, I would feel excited about the prospect of new matches to click through. About halfway through, my excitement would wane and give way to frustration, especially if I had Xed all of them so far. After the last X (and I always Xed the last one or two because they were those dud profiles with no picture or profile info), I felt dejection. Another day without finding someone. The optimists would say "Another day weeding out the wrong ones will bring you to the right one!" I tended to think on the more pessimistic side - another day, another set of matches behind me, hurtling toward the bottom of the barrel. I mean, there had to be a finite number of matches meeting my preferences, right? I was sure to meet that end sooner or later.
To remain eligible for the 6 month guarantee, I had to email at least 5 people every month. To this point I had emailed at least 20 different guys - probably more, since I tended to email anyone that interested me. Let's estimate that I had made contact with 25 people. Of those 25, one emailed me back to say he wasn't interested, and another one emailed back a couple of times, perhaps to be polite, then simply stopped replying.
The rest didn't reply at all.
Again, the optimist would say that those guys were jerks and to not waste any more time worrying about it. But this is me. I took it pretty hard. I couldn't stop wondering why I wasn't getting replies from these people that I thought I matched well with. Was there something wrong with me? Did they not like the way I looked? Was this always going to happen to me, no matter what site I used?
Around this time, I got a 3-Month Satisfaction Survey from the site, and they got an earful from me. I admit, I wasn't entirely objective, as I had just finished Xing eleven matches and getting no emails. When I came to the last question, "How likely would you be to recommend Match to a friend?" I said "Not likely at all" and explained that I was frustrated with the system sending me matches outside my preferences, not getting emails, etc. It turns out that the way to get free stuff from these sites is to say you wouldn't recommend them! The following day, I got an email saying that I had been upgraded for free to a membership that included Email Read Notifications (normally $3.99 a month). When I clicked through to my sent emails, I would be able to see if the email I sent had been opened or not. This was GREAT - at least half of the ones I had sent weren't even opened, which meant I could reasonably assume that those guys didn't have memberships and couldn't open the emails. The ones who had read and hadn't replied, well piss off. Forget you.
I was a bit more encouraged about Match after that upgrade because I could see that it wasn't necessarily my fault that I wasn't getting emails. I did get a handful of "winks" and profile likes and an email or two from guys that were way outside my preferences, but I was not exactly encouraged by this. For a humorous look at some of these men, read this post.
One day, one of my matches caught my eye because I recognized a very familiar college campus in his photo. I emailed him, asking "is that Calvin College in the background of your photo? I went there too!" I probably wouldn't have made contact with him otherwise, since his profile didn't mention anything about his faith. But, I figured, what could be safer than a Calvin guy?
He emailed back, and we corresponded for a week or so before he asked me for a date. I was OVER THE MOON. And also terrified. I hadn't been on a date in six years. And I had NEVER done this casual dating first date thing. The two guys I had gone out with previously started first as friends and then morphed into a romantic relationship. I was excited to meet this guy, but so scared that I was going to screw it up somehow, that he wouldn't like me once he saw me in person, that he would change his mind and not want to see me again.
Everyone tried to convince me that it would be okay, that I would charm him, I had so much to offer, etc. My therapist talked me down, so to speak, one afternoon in her office. I was so keyed up and fidgety and I talked about the prospect of that date for the entire session. By the way, it was still NINE DAYS AWAY. If you didn't know this about me already, this should illustrate to you that I get wildly anxious about things like this.
For the sake of this story, let's call this guy Barry. The day of the date with Barry came, and I was feeling reasonably calm. Still nervous, of course, but nothing like it had been previously. He had asked me to a coffee place, and I made explicitly sure that this would be a date, rather than two acquaintances meeting for the first time. He said it was a date, and that he loved that I asked that. Good sign.
I arrived to the coffee place and he was already there, so I went to where he was sitting and introduced myself, even though he probably had a decent idea of who I was already. He got up out of his booth and walked with me to the counter to place our orders. He went first, and paid for his, and then went to sit back down. I was a bit thrown, thinking that if this was truly a date, he would have waited for me to place an order before paying, right? That's usually how dates work, right? I shook it off and ordered my coffee, and went back to the booth and sat down. We chit-chatted about shared interests, our jobs, and memories of Calvin. He was a speech therapist, which automatically meant he had a master's degree, which I loved. Since he went to Calvin, we had a few mutual acquaintances, so we talked about those for a little while too. I felt nervous the whole time I was there, but I tried my best to act confident and at ease. I thought the date was going reasonably well. A little awkward, since this was only our first time meeting face-to-face, but going well nonetheless.
After he finished his tea, and we came to a small lull in our discussion of favorite television shows, he said, "Well, this was fun. It was nice to meet you." Then he made a move to get out of the booth, and gather his tea cup and trash. I was once again thrown by this abrupt change, but I followed his lead, gathering my things and sliding out of the booth. He came back and said, "Have a good weekend!" I responded with a similar sentiment, and he turned toward the back door, where he said his car was parked. I turned toward the front door and walked toward my car.
I got in, turned the key in the ignition, and saw that the clock read 7:54. That "date" lasted a grand total of 54 minutes. As I drove home, I went over and over the date in my mind, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. That didn't feel like a successful date. 1) He didn't pay for my coffee, which came to a grand total of $3.17. 2) He ended it abruptly after less than an hour. 3) He didn't ask for my phone number or even my last name to find me on Facebook. 4) He didn't express anything to the effect of seeing me again, no "Let's do this again sometime" or "When can I see you again?" On the highway, I realized that we hadn't played Banangrams - he had told me earlier in the week that he would bring Bananagrams and we could match wits and vocabularies at the coffee place. On the bright side, this was a reason to email him, which I did shortly after getting home. I said, "We didn't play bananagrams! What happened to that?"
His reply was, "You're right!"
Relationship time of death: 9:36 pm.
I cannot express to you how devastated I was by this. Deepest down, I believed that the date would ultimately go well, despite what my anxiety and depression were telling me. Well, it didn't go well. To this day, I never emailed him back to find out why we didn't hit it off in person when things seemed to be going so well through email. Mostly, I'm afraid of what I'll hear. I try to avoid situations in which I actively seek bad news.
I returned the next day to Match, determined to keep trying. I was getting fewer and fewer matches, and almost all of them were duds. After 2 straight days of receiving no new Daily Matches, I got on the chat line with a customer service rep. Here is an abridged transcript of our conversation:
Me: Hello. Can you tell me why I have been receiving only 2 or 3 matches every 48 hours instead of 8+ every day, which is what your website promises? Also, why do the majority of my matches have no picture and no profile information boxes filled out? Is there a way that a someone can screen these profiles so they don't make it to me and waste my time?
CS Rep: Please remain on the line while I look further into your inquiry.
Me: Okay, thank you.
(a few minutes later)
CS Rep: Please remain on the line while I look further into your inquiry.
Me: Okay, thank you.
(a few minutes later)
CS Rep: I think I have the information you are looking for.
Me: Awesome. Hit me.
CS Rep: According to our records and your usage history, we have sent
every Match.com member that matches your compatibility criteria and you have rated each one. But don't worry! More people are joining Match every week!
Me: Are you saying that there are no other Christian men who have never been married and don't have kids who are located within 250 miles of my zip code on your site? I made it through all of them in only 4 months?
CS Rep: I cannot say for sure, but it looks that way, yes.
Me: I would like to request a partial refund.
CS Rep: I cannot do that because it is against company policy. However, I can deactivate the auto-renew feature so that you do not get billed for additional months on Match.com.
Me: Good enough.
CS Rep: I'm glad I can help. I'm sorry to hear that you have been frustrated by this. Would you say that you have been satisfied with your Match.com experience?
Me: What do you think?
CS Rep: I'm afraid I do not understand your question. Could you be more specific?
Me: Awesome. Hit me.
CS Rep: According to our records and your usage history, we have sent
every Match.com member that matches your compatibility criteria and you have rated each one. But don't worry! More people are joining Match every week!
Me: Are you saying that there are no other Christian men who have never been married and don't have kids who are located within 250 miles of my zip code on your site? I made it through all of them in only 4 months?
CS Rep: I cannot say for sure, but it looks that way, yes.
Me: I would like to request a partial refund.
CS Rep: I cannot do that because it is against company policy. However, I can deactivate the auto-renew feature so that you do not get billed for additional months on Match.com.
Me: Good enough.
CS Rep: I'm glad I can help. I'm sorry to hear that you have been frustrated by this. Would you say that you have been satisfied with your Match.com experience?
Me: What do you think?
CS Rep: I'm afraid I do not understand your question. Could you be more specific?
Now, before we get too mired in sadness, this story does have a good ending. In my frustration and sadness and tears over my Match experience, I made the snap decision to leave Match behind and subscribe to eHarmony, starting immediately. I had always told myself that I would wait out the year with Match before switching to another site if it didn't work out, since I had already paid for Match and wanted to make the most of my money. However, emotional mind took over and I decided I wasn't going to waste any more time on this site that had nothing more to offer me.
Luckily for me, eHarmony had a pre-Valentine's Day special offer going, $9.99/month for 12 months. This was half of the price I saw several months ago, so I figured, why not go for it? Valentine's Day itself sucked this year, but at least I got a deal on online dating out of it.
I'm only a few weeks into eH, so I can't give it an objective review yet, but I'm more optimistic about this site than Match. For one thing, almost all of the matches I get have mentioned something about how their faith is important to them or how they're looking for someone who takes her faith seriously. Quite a few of them also have political views that are very different from my own, which is unfortunate, but like I said, I remain optimistic. It's possible to put aside political differences, but I am not willing to put aside differences in faith.
Thank you for reading this incredibly long post. If you have experiences with online dating that you'd like to share in the comments below, I'd love to hear it. :)
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Dear Sir: A Series of Letters to the Men of Match.com
Dear Sir,
Your "ideal match" does not exist.
Sincerely,
Andrea
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
Let me be more specific: Your ideal match (fun, outgoing, easygoing, good-natured, loves playing and watching sports, is athletic and toned and exercises 6-7 times per week, and is both driven and quick to relax) does not exist. NO ONE has all of these qualities all the time. Please consider expanding your search.
Sincerely,
Andrea the Realist
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
It is considered polite to respond to emails that other members send you, even if you aren't interested in them. Pro Tip: most women would rather hear honesty (i.e., that you're not interested but thanks for the email) than silence. I can SEE that you opened my email, you know.
Sincerely,
Andrea, Part-Time Stalker
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
So you're looking for a girl that is slender and toned, but also enjoys going out for a beer, dining out, and tailgate parties on a weekly basis. NEWS FLASH: this woman only exists in the toy aisle of your local supermarket or toy store. Heads-up, she's only about 14 inches tall. 99% of women do not have bodies that function this way. You'll have to pick one or the other - the hot body or the pursuit of food and drink. What about the other 1%, you say? Sure, stay the course, look for that girl that can do both, but I'll warn ya - you're going to be fighting off quite a few of your bros in the process. Best of luck to you. I'll be over there, waiting for you to realize that intelligence and kindness don't drop off sharply after middle age.
Sincerely,
Andrea "A Few Extra Pounds and Loves a Good Cocktail" Campo
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
My profile clearly states that I am looking for men aged 22 to 34. Your profile says 59, divorced, and looking for a good time. HARD PASS.
Sincerely,
You're Older Than My Dad
P.S. Stop sending me winks. Don't think I won't call the cops.
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
......
Where are you?
Love,
Me. Just me.
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
Yup, I'm sure. I'm NOT looking for a sugar daddy to have a "no strings fling." I don't care if you are independently wealthy. Who's younger, me or your daughter?
Sincerely,
Consider Yourself Blocked and Reported
P.S. You will find someone. Your life isn't over yet. But I can promise you that I don't go for that.
Your "ideal match" does not exist.
Sincerely,
Andrea
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
Let me be more specific: Your ideal match (fun, outgoing, easygoing, good-natured, loves playing and watching sports, is athletic and toned and exercises 6-7 times per week, and is both driven and quick to relax) does not exist. NO ONE has all of these qualities all the time. Please consider expanding your search.
Sincerely,
Andrea the Realist
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
It is considered polite to respond to emails that other members send you, even if you aren't interested in them. Pro Tip: most women would rather hear honesty (i.e., that you're not interested but thanks for the email) than silence. I can SEE that you opened my email, you know.
Sincerely,
Andrea, Part-Time Stalker
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
So you're looking for a girl that is slender and toned, but also enjoys going out for a beer, dining out, and tailgate parties on a weekly basis. NEWS FLASH: this woman only exists in the toy aisle of your local supermarket or toy store. Heads-up, she's only about 14 inches tall. 99% of women do not have bodies that function this way. You'll have to pick one or the other - the hot body or the pursuit of food and drink. What about the other 1%, you say? Sure, stay the course, look for that girl that can do both, but I'll warn ya - you're going to be fighting off quite a few of your bros in the process. Best of luck to you. I'll be over there, waiting for you to realize that intelligence and kindness don't drop off sharply after middle age.
Sincerely,
Andrea "A Few Extra Pounds and Loves a Good Cocktail" Campo
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
My profile clearly states that I am looking for men aged 22 to 34. Your profile says 59, divorced, and looking for a good time. HARD PASS.
Sincerely,
You're Older Than My Dad
P.S. Stop sending me winks. Don't think I won't call the cops.
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
Updating your profile to say "sorry for my absence ladies, my girlfriend found out about my profile and I had to lay low for a bit" is EXACTLY the way to our hearts.
Sincerely,
Sarcasm Is a Virtue
Dear Sir,
......
Where are you?
Love,
Me. Just me.
___________________________________________________________________
Dear Sir,
Yup, I'm sure. I'm NOT looking for a sugar daddy to have a "no strings fling." I don't care if you are independently wealthy. Who's younger, me or your daughter?
Sincerely,
Consider Yourself Blocked and Reported
P.S. You will find someone. Your life isn't over yet. But I can promise you that I don't go for that.
Saturday, January 10, 2015
The Why
Have you ever been around a little kid who asks "why?" to everything you say? They ask a question, you give an answer, and they ask why. You give an answer to the why, and they ask again. You answer again, and they just keep asking. Usually, the only thing that's going to stop this train is you saying either "Because I said so" or "I don't know."
I feel like that little kid lately. My depression has been really bad the last couple of weeks, and I keep asking why. Why now? Why so bad? Why can't I make myself feel better?
And, perhaps selfishly, Why me?
Several positive things have happened in my life lately, things that any outsider looking in would think, uh, why is she so down? Professionally, I finished up a clinical internship with high marks and good recommendations, I get a little break from school in between internships, and last month I had an essay published in the book Kissing in the Chapel, Praying in the Frat House: Wrestling with Faith and College. Personally, I spent a wonderful Christmas vacation on Anna Maria Island and then on a cruise, I have a job that I absolutely love working for people who are kind and understanding and whose son is a natural antidepressant, and I just found a massage therapy office that charges me 20 bucks for a one hour appointment.
But I'm sad. So many great things happening to me, so many things going right for me, and depression seems to poison all of it. I try my hardest to keep it from invading, setting up camp, and taking over, but it's always there. Ready. Waiting. Biding.
It seems to be worse than usual lately, so much so that I saw my therapist two days in a row, which I'd never done before. I don't know why I've been feeling worse. And believe me, I've asked. On Thursday morning, I was watching Tyler run around and shake the maracas I'd got him from Mexico. He ran over to me and climbed up on the couch next to me. He snuggled close, then looked up at me and smiled his goonie toddler grin. I started to cry, which scared both of us, I think. Usually Tyler's smile and giggles make me smile too. I was so down that I couldn't bring myself to smile. So I cried instead. Tyler put his hand on my cheek, and then put his fingers underneath my glasses and into my eye. It was the best and worst thing ever.
I tell you all of this not in an attempt to inspire pity in you, but in an attempt to inspire strength in myself. I think many of you would agree that it is easier to write than to talk out loud. Writing helps me prove to myself that this is real, that my feelings right now are real, that my life is real. It provides me with marker stones to look back on, to see where I've been. To remind me that it's real and worth fighting for.
God's answer to my whys is not "I don't know," because I trust that He does know what He's doing. Instead, it's "Because I said so." But it's not the "because I said so" of an exasperated parent or babysitter. It's the answer of a Father who has a plan, has a good reason, and can see what's coming.
I have to trust that something is coming.
I feel like that little kid lately. My depression has been really bad the last couple of weeks, and I keep asking why. Why now? Why so bad? Why can't I make myself feel better?
And, perhaps selfishly, Why me?
Several positive things have happened in my life lately, things that any outsider looking in would think, uh, why is she so down? Professionally, I finished up a clinical internship with high marks and good recommendations, I get a little break from school in between internships, and last month I had an essay published in the book Kissing in the Chapel, Praying in the Frat House: Wrestling with Faith and College. Personally, I spent a wonderful Christmas vacation on Anna Maria Island and then on a cruise, I have a job that I absolutely love working for people who are kind and understanding and whose son is a natural antidepressant, and I just found a massage therapy office that charges me 20 bucks for a one hour appointment.
But I'm sad. So many great things happening to me, so many things going right for me, and depression seems to poison all of it. I try my hardest to keep it from invading, setting up camp, and taking over, but it's always there. Ready. Waiting. Biding.
It seems to be worse than usual lately, so much so that I saw my therapist two days in a row, which I'd never done before. I don't know why I've been feeling worse. And believe me, I've asked. On Thursday morning, I was watching Tyler run around and shake the maracas I'd got him from Mexico. He ran over to me and climbed up on the couch next to me. He snuggled close, then looked up at me and smiled his goonie toddler grin. I started to cry, which scared both of us, I think. Usually Tyler's smile and giggles make me smile too. I was so down that I couldn't bring myself to smile. So I cried instead. Tyler put his hand on my cheek, and then put his fingers underneath my glasses and into my eye. It was the best and worst thing ever.
I tell you all of this not in an attempt to inspire pity in you, but in an attempt to inspire strength in myself. I think many of you would agree that it is easier to write than to talk out loud. Writing helps me prove to myself that this is real, that my feelings right now are real, that my life is real. It provides me with marker stones to look back on, to see where I've been. To remind me that it's real and worth fighting for.
God's answer to my whys is not "I don't know," because I trust that He does know what He's doing. Instead, it's "Because I said so." But it's not the "because I said so" of an exasperated parent or babysitter. It's the answer of a Father who has a plan, has a good reason, and can see what's coming.
I have to trust that something is coming.
Friday, October 17, 2014
Not Where I Thought I'd Be
Have you ever noticed that kids have a tough time figuring out age? Anyone that looks and acts like a grown-up is automatically about 40. Just for a laugh, I routinely ask my 5-year-old neighbors how old they think I am. Their most recent guess was 45. I told them that their mom isn't even close to 45 years old, and that I am younger than their mom.
Their next guess was 50. It's like living next to a comedy club.
Today is my 25th birthday. When I was younger, I always thought I would be married and maybe even have a kid by the time I turned 25. Especially when I was a kid, and didn't really understand age, I thought that 25 was the same as my parents' ages. You know, like, after you got to stop going to school, you turned magically into a mom or dad, and after getting gray hair, you became a grandma or grandpa. I had no understanding of the concept that one's choices contribute to certain outcomes. Like most kids, I thought it was just automatic and that it happened to everyone.
If you don't believe me, here's another example from my wonderfully wacky neighbor girls: this is my second year of being a nanny for a beautiful little boy named Tyler. He is a little older than one and a half now. At the end of last school year, his parents were in the process of moving and some days it just worked easier for his mom to bring him to my house, which is near her workplace. My house is not exactly set up for toddlers, especially one who loved to explore and put things in his mouth. So I took him over to play with the neighbors. I told the girls that Tyler was the little boy that I take care of during the day while his parents at work. That seemed to make sense to them. but then the next time I saw them, a Saturday, they asked me where Tyler was. I replied that he was at home with his mom and dad. One of the girls said, "I thought you were his mom."
Five-year-olds just don't have to think about things like never seeing me pregnant and never seeing Tyler as an infant. I know they know that babies have to grow inside their moms first because they had a little brother and two years ago I had many excited (albeit logically inconsistent as only children can) conversations about the baby growing in their mommy's tummy. To their mind, it just made sense for me to all of a sudden have a child because I was a grown-up.
As I grew older, I better understood how age works and how the typical life events timeline involved time in college, a "real" job, marriage, and then kids, according to my parents and my church. You wouldn't go straight to hell if you got pregnant before you were married, but they made it abundantly clear that they would be very disappointed if things went in that order.
The first time I met with my school counselor was in the first few months of 9th grade, when the counselors try to touch base with student in the class. I remember him asking me, "Andrea, where do you see yourself in ten years?" I didn't know how to answer, since I didn't know yet what I wanted to be when I grew up. So I gave a standard answer: "I see myself married, maybe starting to have kids, graduated from college, and working at whatever job I went to college for." 25 seemed like such a far way off - ten years was plenty of time to find the person I was supposed to marry and have babies with him.
Now, here I am, just turned 25 years old seven hours ago, and I have completed exactly one of the things that I told my counselor I wanted to have completed ten years later. I did graduate from college, but I'm not working at a job I went to college for. I am not a mom. I am not married. I am not even close to married. Sometimes, that makes me sad. Like I'm behind somehow. Like I'm missing some key trait that other girls have. Like my shelf life is running out.
I can usually put these feelings away and focus on other things, but they're still there. However, there are a few things in my life that I never would have thought to hope for at age 25. Things like:
1. I have a job that I absolutely love, even though I didn't go to college for it.
2. I am a grad student in a field that finally feels right to me. Teaching, which is what I went to college for, never felt like a good fit, and I'm glad that I didn't go into teaching just because other people expected me to.
3. I know my values and I haven't compromised them for anything. Furthermore, I formed those values as a single person, which means that I know what I'm looking for in someone else.
4. I am not in debt to the federal government, unlike thousands of other young adults in this country. I never would have thought of this as something to look forward to when I was only 15, but as I see my friends and colleagues navigate the repayment of those loans, I grow more and more thankful.
5. I am surviving depression. The CDC estimates that 1.6% of deaths in the United States in 2010 were suicides. This seems like a small percentage, but it equates to 38,364 people who completed suicide that year. You know what isn't recorded? The many thousands of people who attempt suicide each year because of mental illness. So while I definitely wouldn't have said "living with depression" when asked where I see myself in ten years, the 'living' part is something that I'm proud of.
I'm slowly learning to be content with where I am instead of frustrated by not being where I think I should be. Here's to another 25.
Their next guess was 50. It's like living next to a comedy club.
Today is my 25th birthday. When I was younger, I always thought I would be married and maybe even have a kid by the time I turned 25. Especially when I was a kid, and didn't really understand age, I thought that 25 was the same as my parents' ages. You know, like, after you got to stop going to school, you turned magically into a mom or dad, and after getting gray hair, you became a grandma or grandpa. I had no understanding of the concept that one's choices contribute to certain outcomes. Like most kids, I thought it was just automatic and that it happened to everyone.
If you don't believe me, here's another example from my wonderfully wacky neighbor girls: this is my second year of being a nanny for a beautiful little boy named Tyler. He is a little older than one and a half now. At the end of last school year, his parents were in the process of moving and some days it just worked easier for his mom to bring him to my house, which is near her workplace. My house is not exactly set up for toddlers, especially one who loved to explore and put things in his mouth. So I took him over to play with the neighbors. I told the girls that Tyler was the little boy that I take care of during the day while his parents at work. That seemed to make sense to them. but then the next time I saw them, a Saturday, they asked me where Tyler was. I replied that he was at home with his mom and dad. One of the girls said, "I thought you were his mom."
Five-year-olds just don't have to think about things like never seeing me pregnant and never seeing Tyler as an infant. I know they know that babies have to grow inside their moms first because they had a little brother and two years ago I had many excited (albeit logically inconsistent as only children can) conversations about the baby growing in their mommy's tummy. To their mind, it just made sense for me to all of a sudden have a child because I was a grown-up.
As I grew older, I better understood how age works and how the typical life events timeline involved time in college, a "real" job, marriage, and then kids, according to my parents and my church. You wouldn't go straight to hell if you got pregnant before you were married, but they made it abundantly clear that they would be very disappointed if things went in that order.
The first time I met with my school counselor was in the first few months of 9th grade, when the counselors try to touch base with student in the class. I remember him asking me, "Andrea, where do you see yourself in ten years?" I didn't know how to answer, since I didn't know yet what I wanted to be when I grew up. So I gave a standard answer: "I see myself married, maybe starting to have kids, graduated from college, and working at whatever job I went to college for." 25 seemed like such a far way off - ten years was plenty of time to find the person I was supposed to marry and have babies with him.
Now, here I am, just turned 25 years old seven hours ago, and I have completed exactly one of the things that I told my counselor I wanted to have completed ten years later. I did graduate from college, but I'm not working at a job I went to college for. I am not a mom. I am not married. I am not even close to married. Sometimes, that makes me sad. Like I'm behind somehow. Like I'm missing some key trait that other girls have. Like my shelf life is running out.
I can usually put these feelings away and focus on other things, but they're still there. However, there are a few things in my life that I never would have thought to hope for at age 25. Things like:
1. I have a job that I absolutely love, even though I didn't go to college for it.
2. I am a grad student in a field that finally feels right to me. Teaching, which is what I went to college for, never felt like a good fit, and I'm glad that I didn't go into teaching just because other people expected me to.
3. I know my values and I haven't compromised them for anything. Furthermore, I formed those values as a single person, which means that I know what I'm looking for in someone else.
4. I am not in debt to the federal government, unlike thousands of other young adults in this country. I never would have thought of this as something to look forward to when I was only 15, but as I see my friends and colleagues navigate the repayment of those loans, I grow more and more thankful.
5. I am surviving depression. The CDC estimates that 1.6% of deaths in the United States in 2010 were suicides. This seems like a small percentage, but it equates to 38,364 people who completed suicide that year. You know what isn't recorded? The many thousands of people who attempt suicide each year because of mental illness. So while I definitely wouldn't have said "living with depression" when asked where I see myself in ten years, the 'living' part is something that I'm proud of.
I'm slowly learning to be content with where I am instead of frustrated by not being where I think I should be. Here's to another 25.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
How I Spent My Summer Vacation: A Love Letter to the Conference Grounds
Until Sunday, August 17, my summer was unremarkable. And that was at best. At worst, it was horribly frustrating. I took three classes this summer, and while they weren't difficult, they were a lot of work. Not to mention, spending 4 nights a week in class was less than enjoyable. My job was nothing to write home about, either. I had the summer off from my school year nannying jobbecause the mom is a teacher, so I had to pick up a summer job. I knew I would miss my little boy, but it was only three months and then I could go back to nannying him when school started again. I won't go into details, but I ended up quitting the summer job that Sunday night because I was frustrated and wasn't making the money I was promised. Let's just say that there were unmet expectations on both sides.
Now, under different circumstances, I would have just accepted the 2 weeks off and enjoyed some free time. However, I worked only 5 weeks out of the whole summer when I was told I would work 10. Half the weeks meant half the income. A quick look at my bank account online told me that I was $800 short of tuition, which was due on the first day of the semester. If I didn't make that money, I wouldn't be able to go to school in two weeks. The people I worked for couldn't guarantee me that I would work during those last two weeks (they pretty much said they would let me know the day of) and that wasn't going to work for me. I needed to make money, and I had to be sure that my hours wouldn't be canceled on me at the last minute.
So I quit.
Then I panicked just a little bit.
How was I going to make $800 in two weeks if I had just quit my job?
Then, a flash of brilliance (or perhaps divine intervention): THE CONFERENCE GROUNDS. The last two weeks out there are always understaffed because the high schoolers and college staff go back to their regularly scheduled sports, orientations, jobs, classes, and activities. Where else could I get a job on short notice with no application, no interview, no training period, and no hassle? I didn't even have to fill out any of the usual paperwork because they still had it on file from two years ago! So on Sunday night at about 9pm, I made a few calls, sent a few texts, secured two weeks of guaranteed work, and moved out to the Grounds the very next day.
It was as if I had never left. I slipped back seamlessly into the ice cream store and teaching Bible school. I received a hero's welcome when I arrived because I was able to pick up so many random shifts vacated by the people who had already left. It was actually kind of embarrassing - the way I saw it, they were helping me out more than I was helping them by giving me a job so that I could pay my tuition.
Being around people I liked and who liked me turned my entire summer around. At my other job, I never felt like they liked me or trusted me, and those are important things for me to have in my job. Going back to a place that felt like home, where I felt safe and accepted, was exactly what I needed after a summer of school stress and getting the run-around at work. It felt great to be trusted again - trusted to know what I was doing, trusted to do a good job, trusted to take care of the kids. It's hard for me to put into words just how much this all meant to me.
Now, when people ask me how my summer was, I feel like I can truthfully say that it was good instead of disappointing. My self-confidence suffered quite a hit after I quit my original summer job, especially because I knew my employers didn't care that I was frustrated to the point of quitting. They told me they had hired someone else the week before. I'm 95% sure that they would have just strung me along until the end of the summer instead of telling me they were dissatisfied with the job I was doing. That's never a good feeling. But after my two weeks at the Grounds, I felt like my heart was put back together. The people there are genuinely interested in how you are and what you have coming up in your life. I don't have to pretend there. They accept me as I am. They make me smile. They make me laugh. They care.
They are my people.
Now, under different circumstances, I would have just accepted the 2 weeks off and enjoyed some free time. However, I worked only 5 weeks out of the whole summer when I was told I would work 10. Half the weeks meant half the income. A quick look at my bank account online told me that I was $800 short of tuition, which was due on the first day of the semester. If I didn't make that money, I wouldn't be able to go to school in two weeks. The people I worked for couldn't guarantee me that I would work during those last two weeks (they pretty much said they would let me know the day of) and that wasn't going to work for me. I needed to make money, and I had to be sure that my hours wouldn't be canceled on me at the last minute.
So I quit.
Then I panicked just a little bit.
How was I going to make $800 in two weeks if I had just quit my job?
Then, a flash of brilliance (or perhaps divine intervention): THE CONFERENCE GROUNDS. The last two weeks out there are always understaffed because the high schoolers and college staff go back to their regularly scheduled sports, orientations, jobs, classes, and activities. Where else could I get a job on short notice with no application, no interview, no training period, and no hassle? I didn't even have to fill out any of the usual paperwork because they still had it on file from two years ago! So on Sunday night at about 9pm, I made a few calls, sent a few texts, secured two weeks of guaranteed work, and moved out to the Grounds the very next day.
It was as if I had never left. I slipped back seamlessly into the ice cream store and teaching Bible school. I received a hero's welcome when I arrived because I was able to pick up so many random shifts vacated by the people who had already left. It was actually kind of embarrassing - the way I saw it, they were helping me out more than I was helping them by giving me a job so that I could pay my tuition.
Being around people I liked and who liked me turned my entire summer around. At my other job, I never felt like they liked me or trusted me, and those are important things for me to have in my job. Going back to a place that felt like home, where I felt safe and accepted, was exactly what I needed after a summer of school stress and getting the run-around at work. It felt great to be trusted again - trusted to know what I was doing, trusted to do a good job, trusted to take care of the kids. It's hard for me to put into words just how much this all meant to me.
Now, when people ask me how my summer was, I feel like I can truthfully say that it was good instead of disappointing. My self-confidence suffered quite a hit after I quit my original summer job, especially because I knew my employers didn't care that I was frustrated to the point of quitting. They told me they had hired someone else the week before. I'm 95% sure that they would have just strung me along until the end of the summer instead of telling me they were dissatisfied with the job I was doing. That's never a good feeling. But after my two weeks at the Grounds, I felt like my heart was put back together. The people there are genuinely interested in how you are and what you have coming up in your life. I don't have to pretend there. They accept me as I am. They make me smile. They make me laugh. They care.
They are my people.
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