WORKING THE GARDEN

My 2018 ended on an extremely low note: I had not had sex since August, I was still unsuccessful at online dating, and I felt like I was reaching for blog content. Growing tired of the nonsense, on January 1^st, at the stroke of midnight I deleted all my dating apps and I figured I’d take time to just be alone and reevaluate the direction of my blog. 

In January; after a year of carefully writing around the topic, I wrote my first story about my life and dating while having herpes. 

In February; I took another step down the sexually free runway; and I attended my first sex party. I re-downloaded Tinder and Hing, and I explored FetLife (this should be interesting!). This time, however, I decided to have a different approach. What if I stopped searching for a relationship and just enjoyed the art of dating? Sure- many times I’ve said “I’m not looking for anything and I’m just having fun”. Then, like clockwork, on date three, I would begin to wonder: What are we? Where is this going? Big wedding or small wedding? How many kids will we have? Apartment or house?  

This time around, I told myself to STOP! I told myself to not only smell the flowers New York Botanical Garden had to offer, but to enjoy the process of planting them too. The lilies, the tulips, the roses, the hydrangeas, the azaleas, and countless others. I told myself to find happiness in the sowing of the dirt, planting the seeds, the watering, and the sunlight. When a flower dies, that does not make its life lived any less significant. The death of the flower does not erase the joy you found in smelling and viewing it. Instead of waiting for the richest hue right before the decay. I made the decision to learn to enjoy the moments that were happening all around me, from the very beginning to the very end. I was excited to start this new journey. But first… I had to tell my mom.  

So, in March I told my mother that, not only, was I bisexual; but that I was also polyamorous, and non-monogamous. To which she rolled her eyes, gave me a lecture about sex and diseases. To which, I had to remind her that, I actually acquired herpes when I was in a relationship; so, her point was moot. 

For years I was determined to find the one that would deliver me from the endless hurdles of first dates and dry conversations. So, what’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite food? Blah blah! I hated talking to someone, and thinking it was going somewhere, all to find out that they were a total fuck-boy; but I kept on going. I believed that I would swipe right on the perfect guy, we would like each other, meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Fear of dating with herpes kept me on this self-inflicted-toxic-path for almost 4 years. I gave into the idea that people with herpes weren’t allowed date casually. If a guy hit on me at a party. I would flirt a little but eventually I would fade away. I couldn’t go around spreading my toxic vagina. I couldn’t have a casual one-night-stand. I had to dive all in and hope for the best. I didn’t have the right to be selective; because, people with herpes can’t be choosey. I had better be happy with whatever I could get! So, what! if he has no teeth, bad acne, not job, and a little wiener. He accepted your virus and now you’re together for life. 

Then I had an epiphany. I am not now, nor have I ever been toxic. I am human and I deserve to be happy. As long as I was honest and upfront about my status, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. That not only meant starting a situation-ship, that also meant ending one as well. I stayed in many relationships long past their expiration date. If he accepted my herpes, I had to accept whatever shit he came with as well; I had to make it work, because no one else would want me. I had to learn that I deserved the same happiness that everyone else had. I deserve romance, great conversation, and to have fantastic sex whenever, however, and with however many partners my vagina and mouth could handle. As long as I told them up front, I was doing my part. So, I decided to try something different. 

Instead of writing a long drawn out profile, I kept it important to the fundamentals of what I was/am looking for, and I put it all on front street: polyamorous, non-monogamous, bisexual, and herpes positive.  

Non-monogamy, because I am not in a space of solo-commitment.  Polyamorous, because I actually require an emotional connection that precedes the desire to engage sexually (energies over sex). Bisexual, because I enjoy being with women as well; and of course, herpes positive because I’d rather not waste your time if it’s a non-negotiable for someone.  

Within a week, I had a Tinder date; we’ve been seeing each other for just over a month. The following week I met a man from Hinge, and we too have gone on a couple of dates. I’m finally in a place where I am enjoying the journey of dating with no clue on where the hell I’m going to end up. I’m sowing the dirt, I’m planting the seeds, and I’m watering the soil. I’m enjoying the butterflies, the flirting, the conversations, the kissing, and some great sex. I am rooted in my happiness at the moment and hope you’ll continue with me on this journey. 

I love my mom! But…

Now, I know this sounds bad but let me assure you. My mom and I have, quite possibly, the best relationship a mother and daughter can have. She is my best friend, my proudest supporter, and my strongest shoulder to lean on whenever I am feeling down. All of my friends love the relationship that my mom and I have and I wouldn’t trade her for all the money in the world.

With that being said: I love my mom; but… every day I scroll through instagram and/or facebook and I double tap random pictures. Pictures of people that I know very well, once knew a long while ago, may have never met and/or will probably never meet. It’s all fun and games until I scroll across that one post: the post of that one friend, whose face is grinning from cheek to cheek, with their hand exposed, showing an engagement ring, with an “I said yes” comment. Naturally and with true feelings of satisfaction for my friend that has finally found a person to walk the journey of life with, I do what everyone else does. I like the post and write a “congratulations” with all the random emojis that follow. Sometimes, I’ll even tap on their page and just look back at some of their happy love-filled images and smile and wish them all the luck on their journey forward together. Then, the bitter thought begins to creep up in the back of my throat as the reality sets in; I will, again, be attending another wedding with my mom as my date.

Like I said, I love my mom with all my heart but for the past two of my friend’s weddings I have attended, she has been my date. We ride in the Uber to the venues, talk and laugh with all the other wedding guests and eat all the lovely food and cake and have a blast. But, when the couple would has their first dance I watch them embrace, sway from side to side, look into one another’s eyes, and I long for that same moment. When they call for all the other couples to join them I always, naturally sit it out. I would look on as man and woman, man and man, or woman and woman embraced and silently think when will that happen for me? I would run out of fingers and toes ten times over if I actually sat down and listed all the men that have entered my life with the hope of a relationship that never truly manifested.

I am 31 years old. I have been single for almost three years and as pessimistic as it sounds, I do not see my status changing any time soon. The dating world that I once knew no longer exists, the butterflies I once got in anticipation for a first date never happens. Hell! Even just a request for an actual date is, for me, comes as often as the solar eclipse.

“Make Dating Great Again” that’s a slogan that should go on a hat!

My mother’s friend’s daughter just got engaged. She’s in her mid twenties and I am eternally happy for them. But I know when its time to RSVP, as this is a family friend, my mother will probably take my father as her date and I will be that, ever awkward, third wheel. The saving grace this time around is, luckily the wedding is in 2019 and under normal circumstances, that would be enough time for any attractive woman to: meet a nice man, woo him with charm and wit, and hope that he will eventually see what all her family, friends, co-workers, and acquaintances see – “that she is actually an awesome individual”. He would take the initiative to secure a relationship and her affections and they would spend the year getting to know each other and when it was time for her to send in her RSVP she would actually have a plus one.

But, with today’s lack of romance, in my experience. I’m more likely to win the jackpot or be struck by lightening before I meet a man that actually, simply, wants to go on a date. No man that I encounter even wants to go on a date with me. The conversations start of G-rated and often makes an abrupt left turn for X. This often leaves me wondering; “did I say something that insinuated that was what I really wanted”, do they try this every woman, or is it me? Are the signals I’m sending through the Internet getting crossed or misread? Are they coming out on the other end translating to “I’m a hoe, don’t take me seriously, I only want to play around?”

After almost three years of the same scenarios playing out exactly the same way. I have come to the conclusion that I have no idea what I’m doing in this new era of dating.

How awesome it would be to meet a man, have him fall in love (or like) with my personality and have the passion to be with me and only me, we would continue to grow as a couple and I could have a couples dance with Man-X holding me closely, swaying to the music, and holding my hand through the ceremony. That would be very awesome indeed.

February 24^th, 2018