We feel particular sympathy for baby boomers who are back in … or still in… the dating game. Mindy Mitchell of Reston, Virginia, is one of them. Which is why she wrote a whole book about it: Lube of Life: A Testament to Sex, Love and Happiness in the Boomer Age. Here’s an excerpt.
I’m angry. I never expected to be this person in this time of my life: alone and seeking someone via the Internet. I have sporadically attempted the online match sites over the years and each time I gave up in frustration… mostly with myself. Looking at how others see me makes me focus on how I see myself. It is a vicious loop of sadness, hope, embarrassment, grandiosity, and feeling less-than-emotional whiplash at its finest.
My strong feelings surprise me and illuminate the fact that I may, indeed, have some “issues” (self esteem leaps to mind) around this whole thing.
After 59+ years of being on this earth (and two marriages) you would think I would be better equipped to find a lasting and loving connection with the opposite sex. Not so much.
Thinking about embarking on yet another quest for a committed relationship naturally brings to mind relationships of the past. I haven’t had many… except for that spate of encounters in the ‘70s when I wasn’t really attached to anyone in particular. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. Anyway.
Regarding online dating — for every success story there seems to be an endless litany of horror stories. It only makes sense when one is trying to find the proverbial “partner in a haystack.” If nothing else, this whole experiment in terror made me look at myself, my foibles and my hasty generalizations based on a stranger’s picture and their few written words.
After some thought, I decide upon Clarity Now as my online moniker. It is my hope that this “handle” will attract a similar soul on a like-minded journey — even if I don’t really know what that means. One thing is for certain: I need all the clarity I can get when it comes to this process of online dating.
Despite some misgivings, I feel the compulsion to try one more time. So I sign on for another 6-month stint. Strap me in. Shoot me now.
I put pen to paper, struggle to subdue my internal critic, compose my profile, squinch my eyes, hit SEND, and hope for the best!