It goes without saying that there are transformational times in our lives that only make their significance known in retrospect. Such was the case for my unwitting foray into online dating. I’m embarrassed to say it, but it’s true. I accidentally signed up for Match.com during a bout of fitful insomnia one spring morning in the wee hours, and woke up to my phone buzzing like a nest of incensed wasps from my bedside.
Apparently, I had made the wrong assumption that, unlike in years past when Match.com was first getting going, I could simply search the site using only my zip code and a corresponding radius, totally anonymous. I thought it was simply a formality that the platform was now asking for many more details about me than I ever had to enter before…after all, it had been 4 years since I had attempted to use it just to take a peek and, perhaps, gather the gumption to jump into this sea of many eligible fish head first.
Alas, I somehow went live before I finally drifted off to sleep. Long story short, after sharing my shock and horror with one too many friends and colleagues that very next morning once I arrived at the office, I was convinced and assured that this was simply a sign from the universe, and that I should, if anything, use this as a learning experience. “Who knows?!” they all said, “you could find your SOULMATE in a matter of weeks and then what a story you’d have to tell!”
While the profile I eventually had was in someways similar to what you’ll see below, it was much more censored and far too playful, upon the benefit of hindsight. This is the profile I WISH I had written, after suffering through 27 dates with about as many men in as little as 3 months. Each man (in most cases, I use that term loosely) and every date warrants a blog post in and of itself, and not for all bad reasons, I can assure you. But, I can honestly say that I was never more relieved in my life than when I deleted my profile once and for all, and severed all ties to those I met in the process. I’m not normally one to give advice without first being asked, but it is my not-so-humble opinion that if there is one thing that needs to be learned here, it’s to be as fucking bold as possible in asking for what you want and need upfront, no matter how much it airs your perceived “crazy”. No exceptions, no compromises, no second guessing. Just know thyself, put it to paper, and hit submit. Take it from me…Match was my Nam, man. As you will clearly discern after reading this revised profile, it didn’t really go well. And I’m still single…gratefully.
I ain’t afraid to love a man. I ain’t afraid to shoot him either.
– Annie Oakley (The OG badass lady boss bitch)
THE PROFILE I WISH I’D WRITTEN (and the kind I hope you write, too.)
I am not your white knight. Don’t look for me to save, motivate, incentivize, pressure, or sustain you. BUT I’d love to naturally be the one who delights, inspires, encourages, opens, and evolves you. Same for you to me, equitably.
Die Hard is a Christmas movie. Full stop. I don’t care what Bruce Willis says.
I’m human and need to whine sometimes. BUT, I’ll always set an egg timer in advance. Usually about 15 – 20 minutes and then it’s over. If I need longer, I’ll give you the option of NOT watching my shit show. I’ll let you know when I’m able to have a constructive, logical conversation…after I clean up my own Chernobyl.
Good men don’t go to strip clubs. They don’t try to justify the reasons why their friends go, either. They get why it’s disgusting and reprehensible all on their own. They also don’t “need” porn, or use it as a benchmark for how a sexual relationship with a woman should proceed.
I ask lots of questions. I don’t do it to pry or offend. Long, thoughtful, provocative, “what if” or “how about” conversations are my fuel and what I live for. Small talk is… small… and I love to debate, respectfully. However, we are all woefully human. If I say something that raises your heckles, please tell me and let me in on why. But, if you prove committed to misunderstanding me as I try to explain myself just to shield yourself from being vulnerable, I’m out. That’s self care.
Vacations always include something educational. I am very interested in the ways I can continue evolving into the best version of myself (and you should be, too).
I don’t care what car you drive. I DO care how you choose to live – doesn’t need to be the Taj Mahal, but please tell me you’ve thrown away that college futon…amirite? Not a clean freak per se, but I absolutely appreciate cleanliness and order. To that end, I’m conservative with money, which means shopping isn’t my thing (other than the bargain kind) and gifts don’t do much for me. Ask me to go to the grocery store with you…it’s an honest tell.
Not a hugger…at first.
Not a runner. EVER.
Not a sharer…of my food.
Not a player. Unless it’s Scrabble.
And oh, I can tell a lot about you by the way you treat my cat.
You’re allowed to put the pieces together about me as they unfold. But know this – I’m complex and unique. It takes a lot of time to unfold. Trust that I know myself and honor my choices.
No flowers. They DIE. How could you?
Must make all the lists…all the time. Sometimes just for the joy of crossing off the shit I’ve already done for a small but effective ego boost. However, I don’t mistake activity with impact, ever.
Don’t need a lot of romance or attention. I DO require a concentrated focus when we’re together. If it’s just the two of us together with the intent of quality time as reason, shouldn’t have to ask you to put your phone away, sir.
People naturally drain my energy, not an energy source. So, I won’t waste my time around people I don’t like or relate to. If this includes your friends or family, that’s just the way it is.
I love my physical space. Don’t expect to share it.
Weird fears – like checking the mail. Because a case of mistaken identity whereupon I’d be targeted by some bloodthirsty lawyer looking to make a name for himself and take all my money but throw me in prison anyway for the rest of my life in solitary confinement until I die is a TOTALLY real possibility.
Need to learn to trust my gut more. I’m a little too trusting with everything else.
Not a cynic. Not a pessimist. Just a realist. Aren’t we all trying to move forward with the learnings of our past experiences? Maybe I did learn some of the wrong things down the line…but then again, that’s subjective for all of us, isn’t it?
If I have a problem, I’ll tell you. BUT, I don’t need for you to fix it. I need you to help me vet the 1,458 plans of attack I have already listed and strategize with me to decide the best one.
I love to write. I’m better on paper than what comes out of my mouth. If we’ve ended a conversation on poor terms, I swear the note I’ll send you later will make us both feel a lot better.
I take time to formulate my thoughts and understand my own feelings. I’m an introvert that needs time to reflect and feel exposed and violated when asked to “show my work” in the moment. These things require a deep trust, which we won’t have right away, so don’t force it.
Being late makes me panic. So is being “on time”. That’s still LATE.
I love ball gowns and yoga pants equally. Red lipstick pairs well with both, equally. No apologies.
Never had a fast food burger. EVER. It’s always about the chicken sandwich for me.
Slow walkers can die.
I’m one of you: a guy. I like straightforward communication without a lot of room for ambiguity. I’m not exactly intuitive, so spell it out. Bluntness is fine but don’t be an asshole. You know the difference by now, right?
Don’t interrupt me. It shows you care more about saving your own ass and asserting your own reality over mine. So….no.
I’ll tell you anything you want to know, all up front, honestly. But I’m not responsible for how you feel or what you think afterwards.
Let’s DO things. All the things. Just not ALL THE TIME. I like to have nights in where we can eat spaghetti in our pajamas. With the cat, obvi.
Take initiative but partner with me. I don’t like surprises.
No competition. I’m a capable, competent woman, so I can find that anywhere.
You should be a giver like me, with high standards for what that means.
If you’re not in the arena with me but simply judging from the stands, I’m not interested in your feedback.
True zest for life and a life-long learner.
Can you challenge me without being an asshole?
Communicate your assumptions before you act on them. Especially if that action involves ME.
I think bullying is the world’s worst offense and psychological safety is its greatest grace.
Don’t ask questions if you don’t want to hear the honest answer.
Tell me your blind spots. I’ll share mine.
Facts are important. Don’t turn my words around just so you can feel comfortable with the story you decided to tell yourself without my permission.
I can admit when I’m wrong, but it stops there. I don’t need you to top it off with punishment or cataloging it for future use when I’m vulnerable…or worse, comfortable and safe.
Sometimes I get really scared of simple things. Show me the good that comes from living a life without fear.
The proof of how well you can listen and your ability offer sincere apology isn’t in your words but in your behavior.
I won’t try to change, raise, or groom you into something you aren’t. But don’t expect me to be the mother you never had. I won’t tolerate your inability to grow and evolve.
Travel is a must..I want you to have a drive for adventures big and small (but not danger). Adrenaline junkies need not apply.
theempiricalfiles.com 
Well said. I wish I would had this much insight into my own self when I was doing the dating game. Fortunately, by karmic good luck and patience, I choose well and am partnered with a gem of a man. Terrific post.
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