Dating Diary Of A Single Mom: I Thought I Fell Off
If you followed my dating life–or lack there of–in stories like this, this or this you know I last left you feeling pretty fleeky despite the wake up call I unexpectedly got from my “ex” for lack of a better term. Since what seemed to be a devastating break up, I’ve seen Chris, the imposter, twice. Now that I live fairly close to his parents house, whenever he is in town he calls to check in. Our conversations are never long and always seem genuine. We chat about our kids, he of course recently had another. Regardless of the fact that I’m not certain Chris is even his real name there was a thin thread of reality in our relationship. We genuinely cared for each other’s well-being, and seemingly still do. He is always sure to let me know if I ever need anything, he will still hold it down like he used to. He always seems so sincere, it always feels so real.
Last summer, when he came back to town I agreed to meet with him out of my necessity of tangible answers and explanations about what happened between us. I wanted to look at him and question his motives and why he lied about all those damn kids. I wanted to see if he felt any remorse and if he would continue to lie. Who knows if he was being truthful, at this point, who cares. Before he left, I showed him a side of me he’d never seen, and that I made sure he’d never forget. I felt empowered to see the shock and maybe even hurt in his eyes, when he leaned in for a goodbye kiss and I turned my head, giving him the “see ya buddy” shoulder tap.
Fast forward to this summer, Chris is back in town, and we chat, and we meet briefly. This time around I felt power in my personal growth. At some point, unbeknownst to me, I had reached a resolve and gained closure. I’ve grown comfortable in the safety of singlehood. For a while, I had entertained several Tinder finds out of boredom. With no expectations, other than for the worst, I’d swipe right just to see what kind of shenanigans this one or that one had for me. Regardless of the man, what he did or where he came from, for the most part, they were all corny, boring, gross, or just…no. I’ve gone out several times and have yet to meet a suitor of interest.
I was starting to think, maybe I fell off.
I had been running errands in sweats and the occasional scarf more than I probably should. Not to mention my DM’s had dried up.
Despite the obvious, I’ve been taking no extra measures to doll myself up or even go anywhere overly social. Knowing I need to do better hasn’t been the catalyst of change that would get me to retire my favorite sweats, or at minimum, throw on a lash. What did inspire the turning of new leaf however was the most random request I got from a friend and colleague. This friend of mine had always been someone I’d had a crush on. We met back in college and in those days he had eyes for another friend. After being out of touch for sometime, we got back in touch, nothing crazy, real regular. Likes on Instagram, laughing faces on Snap, the occasional flirtation.
Recently those general flirtations crossed into more seductive territory. Being the object of someone’s lustful desires could be taken offensively, at worst, and encouraging at best. The scenario following our conversation got me thinking. I had been happy to be the lead role in a man’s fantasy. Without hesitation, I acquiesced his request for a virtual strip tease. I was shocked because this wasn’t something I had ever done before and until then it wasn’t something I would ever consider doing…especially for someone whom I was somewhat interested in dating.
Normally I reserve my savagery for a guy I couldn’t care less about, someone whose opinion makes no difference to me whatsoever. On the other hand, someone I am genuinely interested in, I make every effort to be perceived in a most favorable way. You know what I mean, trying to avoid that judgmental double standard looming over women regarding sex.
Why it is that men can do as they please sexually without being stigmatized, while we need to maintain a social level of respectability? Regardless of his feelings, I am glad I did it. I was confident and I felt sexy, a feeling I haven’t been acquainted with in sometime. Since my “performance,” I haven’t been so acquainted with my sweats or scarf either.