In my dating life, I’ve relied on chance meetings or friend’s introduction, but in reflecting upon this methodology I must admit it hasn’t panned out—at least for me.  I lay blame on no one as I had to grow up in many ways, but I also didn’t want to tread a new path to find myself alone, as heartbreak is no party.  So, with the encouragement of my children I elected to try online dating.

As unnatural as it feels to me to meet women in this fashion, I do recognize there are advantages.  One, the women who’ve registered on the site want to meet a fella.  Two, the site I chose requires a subscription which presumably means those posting were in earnest.  Three, based on a quiz the system attempts to create successful matches.  Four, there is an opportunity to exchange thoughts prior to calling or going out on a date.

With tips from the “kids”, who by the way, are experienced online daters, I completed my quiz, uploaded a picture or two, and included some verbiage.  The software soon presented many matches, in fact I was surprised by the sheer number.  When I looked closer, I noted that many of the women adorning my screen lived some distance away.  Knowing I didn’t want to fly across-country to meet a potential mate I tightened down the filter.  Naturally, there were far fewer matches presented.

Though a superficial concern, I learned that not all who post pictures of themselves include contemporary photos.  I like photographs and am always happy to look at days gone by, but when trying to determine if there is some modicum of mutual physical attraction it can make it a bit tricky.

Separate from the posted images, I had other lessons to learn about online interaction.  I try to be a kind person, and when woman reached out to me, I felt compelled to communicate my thanks even if I didn’t feel we would be a good match.  I discussed this urge with other “professional” online daters, and they informed me I was far better off not to respond.  Afterall, the required communication would consist of an awkward thanks but no thanks.  They explained further that this was the nature of online dating.  My friends’ advice seemed logical, and I therefore refrained.  By the way, this is a two way street.  I reached out to several women and received no comment in return—further informing of online dating etiquette.

On several occasions I did have friendly exchanges, sometimes just one or two sentences before replies ceased.  At other times a longer bevy of “send and replies” ensued, before my prospective companion vaporized.  Given my limited success I assumed I was doing something wrong.  I asked my daughters and my elder daughter’s husband to critique my style of messaging and they said I was doing fine, that I just needed to be myself and give it some time.  So, at it I kept.

There was a picture of a woman I was drawn to for whom the system gave us a good score.  Given I had had limited success, I was hesitant and stepped away from the site for a time.  When I logged back in and saw her lovely smile I tried again.  She responded.  She asked if the pictures I had uploaded were recent.  I let her know that one was from a few months ago and the other was about a year and a half old.  Apparently, she had learned that men tried to cheat time by posting much younger versions of themselves.  My answers seemed to relieve her concern regarding my present appearance, and we continued messaging.  We then graduated to talking on the phone.  I distinctly remember pacing (I believe I fall somewhere on the autistic spectrum) my kitchen floor as we shared portions of our lives, what we were both looking for in a relationship, and in general learned about each other.  The conversation was pleasant and was quite long, which was encouraging.  Having established a reasonable comfort level, we decided to meet for brunch at a popular restaurant.  When the appointed day was at hand, I arrived early and sat on a bench opposite the establishment’s entrance.  When she pinged me to say she was running a few minutes late, I decided to walk off my nerves.  I ambled down the corridor outside the eatery looking at art created by children from local schools—some of which I felt were quite good.  Having emersed myself in the study of the many sketches and paintings I lost track of time and when I turned to hurry back to the café, I saw her walk in and her smile made the hallway that much brighter.

We were seated at a somewhat isolated back table and despite my nervousness we had a long “getting to know you” brunch that bled over to tea and coffee at another local shop.  All and all it was an enjoyable visit.  We saw each other several times afterward for dinner and then to see a local cover band, where I found her manner somewhat distant—I got the vibe that she wasn’t really interested.  As it happened, I was listening to the radio a few days hence on my long ride home from work.  On the show a therapist was talking about the artificial nature of dating and that you really only get to know someone when engaging in normal day-to-day activities.  Further I had just read an amazing book my daughters gave me for Christmas titled Attached (which I highly recommend).  One of the many things I learned from that volume is how important it is to communicate what is important to you.  You have a choice, hold back in hopes things will work out down the road, or say it up front.  The point being: if a potential companion has a problem with what is critical to you, waiting to ask will not result in a favorable outcome—so ask in the beginning.  Under the influence of these concepts, I decided I’d better put my cards on the table.  In a text, I explained that I could be mistaken, but I wasn’t sure if I was her cup of tea.  I suggested that if she still had any desire to get to know me better, I wanted to do something together that was more a kin to an “every day” thing.  When I shared the text with my buddy, prior to hitting send, he suggested I soften my approach.  I explained that a more muted request would be my normal MO, but I had to try something new—being more direct from the get go—he countered, “I guess you’ll find out.”  I pressed send.

I didn’t hear anything for a while (she was tied up in meetings), but when she responded it was equally direct.  She said she hadn’t felt much of a connection with me or anyone she had recently dated.  She had been through the ringer in previous relationships and was carrying some baggage, which I could relate to.  She was about to travel for business and asked if she could think about it and respond to my question when she returned from her business trip.  I didn’t know what the future held, but her choice to text what she was really feeling was refreshing.  Another positive was that she was cool with texting while she was traveling.  We did just that and she included pictures taken on a nearby pacific beach—I never grow tired of beach pics.

True to her word, she reached out to me when she returned and she said if I was still interested she was open to meeting in a more relaxed environment.  We elected to meet at a historic hotel in town whose amenities include a fireplace surrounded by upholstered seating.  We spent the afternoon talking and sharing photos and stories of our families.  When we parted company on that cool, sunny, winter day, I felt a sense that we had crossed a threshold of sorts—a threshold of growing trust and friendship.  As we continued to engage in our day-to-day adventures, we continued to learn about each other and the paths we had walked to arrive at this point in time.  We began to understand that we were, in a way, cut from a similar bolt of cloth.

When Valentine’s Day rolled around I wasn’t certain what to suggest as that day carries certain expectations.  As I stood in Fresh Market trying to decide how best to approach my quandary, I decided to take yet another chance on communicating what was in my heart and asked if I could hijack her kitchen to cook a meal of crab cakes and roasted asparagus.  She was delighted and suggested we add sweet potato fries as a side to our main course.  That evening we stood side by side talking and listening to her fine soundtrack while preparing our simple feast.  I can tell you that crab cakes and those sides never tasted better, and I can also say I’ve never had a better Valentine’s Day.

I am happy to report we have never looked back, except to occasionally remember the rocky road traveled by each of us to appreciate everything we now have and continue to build.  My lovely, brilliant, caring Renea has turned out to be the love of my life and I am hers.

For those of you who’ve read my few posts you undoubtedly know I don’t believe in coincidence, but instead give all the credit to the author of all things—through the gentle encouragement of Abby, Sarah, and Zach to get me started in online dating, through my daughters selecting a book that changed my life (and hers as she elected to also read it), through an uncharacteristic direct yet caring text, through an equally honest and caring response, through the amazing growth of a love founded in trust and an understanding of who we are and how we’ve arrived on the same path walking hand in hand.

Before this amazing series of events, I wondered if I would ever meet a woman, a companion, who would have my best interest at heart as would I have hers.  I now believe it is possible, as all good things are if you have “the faith of a mustard seed.”