Aside from the stalker behavior, I think the thing that effects me the most are the lies.  After you’ve been lied to over and over again it leaves you pretty suspicious about everyone.  You wonder when they’re going to tell you they aren’t actually divorced, separated or single. You wait for the other shoe to drop, and sadly it usually does.  But still I go into things trying to trust, because I realize that I’ll never find a relationship if I go into it distrustful. But it brings up the question, am I really being fair and trusting? Is it possible to start even a simple date unbiased when so many bad dates and relationships have left their mark?

And it’s not just men I’ve been interested in romantically that have put those marks on my trust. In fact, just recently I discovered that someone I believed would never lie to me had been doing so. For a long time.  And due to their lies I behaved in a way that hurt another friend unknowingly.  It hurt me to find out my friend had lied. It hurt more to realize I’d hurt someone else and lost them as a friend because of it.

So how do you set aside the past in order to find your future?  Is it possible to trust someone new without allowing the past to color things?  Or am I wrong in thinking I need to ignore past experiences in order to embrace my future?  Perhaps its all about allowing another person to earn my trust?

Or maybe I should just chalk everything up to actually living and experiencing life and keep on plunging in the deep end?

You see, over the past months I’ve been presented with a first hand experience with that Mars/Venus stuff.  You know, what I mean. The whole “he has to be from another planet because I just don’t understand” thing?  Yeah, that.
I consider myself pretty open-minded when it comes to relationships. I’m not sure how ready I am to dive into anything too serious, so I’m not one of those women who need to talk to the man they are dating every day. We both have lives outside of one another and at this point we’re just dating and enjoying the time we get to spend together.

So not hearing from a guy I’m dating for a few days doesn’t freak me out like it does a lot of women.  But not hearing from them for over a month, while it still doesn’t freak me out, does make me question what happened. And worry about their well being.  Which I did when the city boy appeared to drop off the edge of the earth.

The first week or so I was convinced he was just busy, but once we got into the 3 and 4 week area I found myself wondering why he didn’t let me know he was ok and just say “this isn’t working for me”.  I am aware that a lot of women wouldn’t handle that statement very well, but me on the other hand would have totally understood and wished him all the best. And I’m not being sarcastic either.  At my age I understand that sometimes things just don’t work out for one reason or another.  And I thought the city boy knew me well enough to realize I was woman enough to deal with that. Which left me baffled as to the total radio (phone, text and e-mail) silence.

As hard as I tried not to, of course I found myself wondering if it was me, had I done or said something that changed what had seemed to be a mutually enjoyable relationship.  Finally, after searching my soul and wracking my brain, I was no closer to understanding, so I closed the door on my time with the city boy and began the process of moving on.

Then, just when I was prepared to dive into the dating pool and risk the sharks again in an attempt to find someone to enjoy movies, dinners and romantic evenings with it happened.  The city boy emerged from his man cave, apologetic for his self imposed sabbatical from me.

A younger me might have seen it all in black and white, ignoring the man who seemed to care so little that he could go silent after 4 months together.  But the current me is all too aware of how overwhelming new relationships can be, how unsure one can be after prior painful relationships. So the current me agreed to give him a chance to explain.

So we gave it another shot, except now I can feel myself holding back, keeping a part of me separate. It would be all too easy to really fall for this guy, but my brain has one of those alert sirens going off in my head. It’s self preservation that I’ve ignored in the past with not so great results. Every time we get together I plan on having ‘the talk’; the one where I say “Where do you see this going?”"Where do you want this to go?” but it never seems to be the right time.

As I got ready for my date with him last night I had determined that we had to talk, that I needed to know if he felt our relationship had any hope of growing past this easy going, occasional date stage. And then something happened in his life that made it so not the right time to add even more to his plate.

So here I am, baffled by the Mars/Venus thing, wondering if I’d just be better off to become a reclusive single woman, working on a great American novel a/k/a trashy romance.  *sigh*  Or perhaps it’s my penchant for trashy romance that is making this more difficult that it should be and I’m projecting the hero/heroine roles onto us?  I’m clueless.

But hey…life is interesting.

It had everything to do with a city boy.

And I wasn’t even watching with him.  But knowing that he was an avid Duke fan and that he cared about the outcome of the game made me want to watch.  And not just watch, but hold my breath as they ran back and forth on the court hoping to see those dark blue jerseys pull ahead.

Alas, it wasn’t to be, and I felt the pang of disappointment because I knew a certain someone wouldn’t be smiling in triumph. As I shared my condolences, reminding him that I too had recently felt the agony of defeat that kept my beloved Patriots from the big game, I realized that this was one of the ‘perks’ of dating.  We’re introduced to new things, new experiences and new interests. We’re challenged to do things we might never do otherwise.

I wonder how many things we as individuals learn to do or come to love because of a romantic interest in someone?

I can only speak for myself, but I know that I’ve overcome fears, learned to love things I didn’t understand (like football!) and opened myself up to experiences I’ll never forget.

Does that mean I’m going to end up anticipating March Madness with the same fervor I await the start of the football season? A month ago I would have laughed at the thought. Although I’d sat through my share of Bonny Eagle basketball games as a teenager in the pep band, and certainly understand the basics of the game, it just never seemed to be a sport that induced passion the way that football and hockey could.

But now? Well, I watched a college hoops game all by myself simply because I knew he would be. I have no doubt I’ll be keeping track of the games during March Madness.  I guess I shouldn’t rule out learning to ♥ hoops.

In my reality, romance was pretty much a myth. Or at the very least it looked nothing like those scenes in the romance novels.  After my divorce I watched a lot of chick flicks with the girls, still loving the idea of those romantic scenes, but knowing that it was all a fantasy.  Real life just didn’t happen that way.  Or at least not to me.  I accepted it and continued to get my romance fix in sappy chick flicks and trashy romances.

Enter Valentine’s Day 2011.  First, I’m actually dating someone at Valentine’s which hadn’t happened since my late teens.  Second, I actually had a date planned for Valentine’s Day. I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew better than to over-romanticize it.  It was just a date. That’s what I told myself as I got dressed in a new outfit and packaged up the chocolate covered strawberries I made myself  along with a few other little items for my date.  That’s what I told myself as I drove to meet him and even as I got out of the car and said hello.

And then something amazing happened. I experienced one of those romantic, straight from the pages of a Harlequin romance, nights.  From an amazing meal cooked just for me, and a private piano concert to sitting in front of a crackling fire wrapped in strong arms.  And it was all real. No, really, I pinched myself to be sure it wasn’t a chick flick induced dream.

And here’s the real kicker…I don’t think he was even particularly trying to make it an uber romantic night.  I mean, I’m sure he wanted me to enjoy myself, maybe even make me smile. But I’m pretty sure this wasn’t something that was contrived, if you know what I mean.  It all felt pretty natural. Two people, enjoying one another’s company and enjoying making the other person smile.  And voila! Romance.

It was an amazing night I’ll never forget.  My girlish fantasies of a perfect Valentine’s date came to life.  What else might be discovered that I thought were relationship myths?  Is Cupid real too?

Après divorce I somehow always managed to be single when Cupid’s holiday rolled around.  Being single and pummeled with sappy commercials of insipid couples exchanging diamonds can ruin a single girl’s appetite for chocolate.  At the very least it leaves her feeling somewhat bereft of the excitement and romance that the entire rest of the universe appears to be wallowing in.  And somehow that empty side of the bed seems to be there just to remind you that they have what you don’t.  And no matter what you may say to other people about ‘liking the single life’, the truth is, we all want someone special in our lives along with a little romance.

Fast forward to the present.  It’s February, the commercials have started and lo and behold! I’m in a brand spanking new relationship.  I have now been dating the City Boy for three months.  And I find myself in a new kind of predicament.  Do I or don’t I?

Does one buy a Valentine’s gift for a man they’ve been dating just three months?  And if so, just what does one get him?  Let’s face it, at three months, chances are you’re not even sure you’re exclusive yet, so the whole L-O-V-E thing is enough to effectively kill a still emerging relationship.  That leaves a lot of the more traditional Valentine’s gifts off the menu.

With traditional off the table, the temptation is to veer off into something sexual.  The danger there is giving the impression that you view this new relationship as a strictly physical thing.  So how, as the new romantic interest in his life, do you choose something that says “I like what we have and I’m open to it becoming more” without going overboard in either direction??

As I go down through the gift possibilities it appears that they all are somehow inappropriate:

Coffee mug with his favorite sports team? Too impersonal, it’s more like something you’d give a cousin or a co-worker for a birthday. It definitely doesn’t say “Hey, I think you’re hot and I’m excited about seeing where this new relationship may go.”

Chocolate covered strawberries and champagne?  Too cliché?

A flirty card and an iTunes gift certificate?  Screams I couldn’t think of anything to get you doesn’t it?

A French Press coffee maker? Even though he’s mentioned wanting one, is it too practical?  Not to mention the fact that last I checked he was cutting back on the caffeine.

Chocolate body paint?  Well, we all know what that screams now don’t we?  Lots of lust but not much romance.

So here I am, finally in a relationship at Valentine’s Day finding out that there’s a whole new side to Valentine’s stress.  Of course it could just be that as a woman I’m putting way too much importance on the day. Then again, getting this right could insure that the romance lasts well beyond February 14^th .

Now that I’m experiencing my own dance with happiness and hope I’m trying hard to keep it to myself.  I don’t want to be ‘that’ person that gushes romantic on Facebook or posts every romantic love song ever written on their blog or Twitter.  But no matter how hard I try, it appears that the excitement of a new relationship bubbles over without even trying.

So if I’m irritating you with my silly romantic-ness…I’m sorry!

Easier said than done. I was good at pretending I wasn’t holding on. Hell, sometimes I actually did let go with one hand, reaching for the brass ring, while the other hand had a death grip on what my heart thought it had to have.

“If you love something let it go…” How I hate that saying. Mostly because it’s bullshit. Letting go of something that is important to you is a surefire way to lose it, even if it was truly ‘yours’. Untended gardens stop bearing fruit remember? I’m not a fool and I never did fall for that little lie that used to accompany a comic of two naked cherubic characters. Letting go means saying goodbye.

And I hate goodbyes.

So I’ve spent years wanting to find something real, hoping it was buried in the something that I had that was based on falsehoods. Yes folks, I’m talking about matters of the heart.

For years I’ve whined about finding love while not being honest with you or myself. My heart wasn’t open to finding love, it was hell bent on creating what it felt should be love. It did an excellent job of convincing itself that if the timing where better, the location correct or the circumstances perfect that the fairy tale would stop being a lie and spring to life like Pinochio. After all, wasn’t the Blue Fairy real?

And my heart ruled my head. So I kept the torch lit even when the object of my affections all but extinquished it. I’d protect it with the bravado of being over it, all the while blowing on it gently until the flame grew once again. Over and over again. And said object of affection would step in again, help me fan the flames as if this time the torch would really shed light on a path to coupledom, until they once again threw sand on the very flames they’d help strengthen.

How could a smart woman like me continue to let my heart do that? Mostly by pretending I wasn’t letting it do that. By telling myself that I was done playing the game, done waiting, done trying to figure out what I needed to change about myself that would make it work next time. But hidden at the heart of my soul was that smoldering torch, protected by my false bravado.

The world could see my outstretched hand, reaching for the brass ring, only I could see the other hand refusing to let go.

Stupid? Yes, of course, but in my defense, I really did want to let go, I just had no idea how. In the arena of love I was a broken playing piece. The scars from my past made it impossible to put the pieces together so that they fit correctly.

Notice how I used the past tense? Was. Because that’s not how I am today. I think I finally let the torch go out. And the funny thing is, I’m not even sure exactly when it did.

I just know that both of my hands were free to embrace someone new this time.

Of course, running my own business I don’t always remember what’s on TV, or even to set up my DVR, so tonight I watched Episode 1 online and Episode 2 (which I had remembered to record.).  My first impression?  I have mixed feelings.

It’s great to see a guy willing to tell the world he prefers a lush, curvaceous woman, and it’s also wonderful to see some truly beautiful women who don’t wear a size 2 (or even 12 for that matter).  But there are a few things I’m disappointed in too.

First, way too much crying. I realize this probably has a lot to do with editing, after all, even the most self confident woman might break down when confronting certain memories or past wrongs.  So, if these truly are self confident women, let’s see it instead of all of the tears.  I think the producers are trying to show America that larger sized people deal with a great deal of discrimination from childhood on through adulthood.  But the women are just way too emotional in doing so.

And second, it makes it appear that every one of these women believe that this is their one chance at finding love.  I would have loved to see a woman on there that had that attitude that sure, they came on the show with hopes of finding something special, but that not getting chosen doesn’t leave them thinking they’re destined to be alone forever.

Luke, the show’s grand prize, even said he was looking at the way a women presented herself and felt about herself.  So if all the weeping is due to editing…here’s a plea to Fox, please stop.  Yes, we love the fact that you’re showing the world beauty in a larger package, but we want to see dignity and self esteem to go along with it.

Last weekend, I responded to one of the messages I received on Plenty of Fish.  The sender seemed to be a bit more sincere than the rest.  After some playful response banter, he offered up his number, and although a bit hesitant, I bit the bullet and did the same.

Then the texting began and he seemed pretty genuine. So genuine in fact that by the end of the weekend we had set up a ‘meet and greet’ for Wednesday.  I’ll admit, I was kind of excited to be dipping my toes into the dating pool again.  Even though I’d mentioned that I wasn’t available Monday and Tuesday nights,  Mystery Date Man (MDM) texted on a regular basis on Monday.  I thought I was sensing impatience that we had to wait til mid week, but then on Tuesday I heard nothing.   So when Wednesday rolled around, I wasn’t really surprised when he texted saying he couldn’t meet hit the cell.  I was ok with that, either he was telling the truth and we’d reschedule or he just wasn’t really interested, which was cool too.

When the texts began again Thursday, I anticipated a request to reschedule our meeting, but it didn’t come. Then again today the texts began, but no mention of another time to meet.  And then, just now, after 10pm at night, I get a text asking how my night was going.  As the text conversation ensued, being the shoot from the hip kind of girl I am, I asked if we were going to reschedule the meet and greet of if we were just going to text back and forth.  His response?

Wait for it…..

His response was that he was ok with ‘it’. (texting) and that he was going to invite me over to his place since I had said I was a bit bored.  Hello??  Buddy?  do the women you hang out with generally rush on over to the home of a guy they’ve never met at night…in the dark?  Duh!!  Did this guy think that being a chubby chick I was so desperate for a man’s attention that I’d jump at the chance?  And although the dangers of doing so were of course a concern, I really don’t even think a serial killer would be stupid enough to approach a woman that way and think she’d actually do it.

This guys behavior, coupled with all of the responses on the dating site that I haven’t responded to because they were all about ‘hooking up’ and ‘having a little fun’, have me once again frustrated with the whole idea of trying to date. After my little ‘text-versation” with MDM I was mad enough to spit nails (as my grandfather used to say).  Is it like this for all single women or is it because I’m a chubby chick?

Listen up guys, get this straight. Yes, I’m very up front about being ‘rubenesque’ , but not because I’m making some sort of ‘excuse’.  I know that a BBW isn’t for everyone, so if you know it’s not for you, you don’t have to waste my time and yours.  My self esteem isn’t lying in the dirt and I’m certainly not desperate.  Sure, I’d like to have a man in my life, but it’s not a requirement.  And don’t date me thinking you’re doing me a favor, because let me tell you, I’ve got a lot to bring to a relationship with the right guy.  I’m intelligent, motivated and have a pretty good sense of humor.  Not to mention things of a more…ahem…personal nature.

So here I sit, wondering if this is what I’m going to have to deal with over and over before I find something seriously worthwhile.  And my question to myself is, do I really have time to play these foolish games?

I’m settling in nicely here in Conover, NC, absolutely loving my new place and the gorgeous springtime, feels like summer time, weather.  And to further prove this was the right choice for my new home, the flowers are in bloom and they are all..pink!  If that doesn’t scream girly girl, I don’t know what does.

So since I’d finally started to settle in, I decided that maybe it was time to seriously start exploring the idea of dating again.  I put up a new, updated profile, and wham!  Suddenly I’m getting e-mails from men left and right.  I realize it’s mostly because I was new to the site, but it was overwhelming.  At first it was a little bit exciting, but before a week was through I remembered why this hasn’t worked for me very well.  As soon as I feel the push for giving out my number and meeting up in person, I get…well…cold feet.  I get a panicked feeling that I’m not ready to dance the dating dance, that it will open me up to things I’m not sure that I want to deal with, like rejection, expectations, disappointment… you get the idea, right?

So what’s a girl to do?  I long for the companionship, fun and yes…physical benefits of a relationship, but apparently the ‘work’ involved scares the bejeebers out of me.  Any suggestions??