After a long dry spell that was sapping my confidence and faith in mankind, I finally got an interesting and worthwhile response to my online ad (I met Bachelor #1 by responding to his ad). It came as no surprise to me that men did not come stampeding to my virtual door. After all, I have three strikes against me: I'm over 40, I have a young child, and I'm not skinny. However, I still expected that there would be men out there who would appreciate all of my other fabulous qualities, and who might actually prefer them over youth and anorexia. Finally, this has come to pass.
Will he think I am as compelling and delightful in person as I am in writing? Will the fact that his age is a few years beyond my usual range make the dynamics too creepy? Will I actually like him, or will I just enjoy being flattered by his attention? Will nina EVER get laid again? (Oh yes, yes she will, even if she doesn't blab about it here.)
The real, deeper question, though, is how will it feel if I do turn out to really like Bachelor #2? In my put-all-my-eggs-immediately-into-one-basket past, I wouldn't let myself consider that there might possibly be more than one interesting, intelligent, charming, disarming man out there who would not only be all those things, but would like me, too. The fact that my old way of thinking and being around men may have turned out to be completely wrong is blowing my mind (bits and pieces of my brain are flying around the room as we speak).
OK, so that's not entirely true. I knew that my former "men" paradigm was wrong because it wasn't working for me. I wasn't having the kind of satisfying, intimate relationship that I longed for (remember, I've left not one, but two marriages). I very consciously set out to figure out why that was, and change it. It's a far more complex and difficult journey than I ever imagined.
When I was pregnant with the kidlet and still married to Vicente, we decided we didn't want to know the sex of the wee thing until it was born. I was pretty sure that I'd have a girl. I have a sister, my mom has a sister, he has three sisters--both families are full of women. It seemed logical--and comfortable--that I would continue that trend. Vicente, being the highly intuitive man that he is, told me that he thought the universe would send me a boy so that I could work out my issues with men. At the time I was rather horrified. I shot back, "And he'll be gay, so you can work out your homophobia," which had the satisfying result of freaking him out, so I didn't have to focus on the realization that I knew that he was right, and that yes, the hard work was about to begin.