Category: online dating

I knew early on in January that 2016 was a leap year. As a surgery scheduler I deal with future dates, and I recall mentally noting the novelty of the extra day we are awarded in February. Little did I know at the time all the connotations that this leap year would come to mean to me.

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Do you recall that in the last post I introduced you to Charlie?

We enjoyed our first date on January 31st of this year. We shared a casual lunch on a Sunday afternoon – which almost turned into dinner because we stayed so long. Our conversation flowed easily (although, admittedly I was a bit nervous). Eye contact, at times, lingered, and – did my hand touch his arm as I excused myself to the restroom?

We parted ways on that chilly Sunday with a respectable “side” hug and a promise to see one another again before the week was out.

A short three days later we sat in a booth at a local restaurant, once again, enjoying one another’s company. The more we talked, the more it felt like we had known each other far longer than just a few days. And as we sat in that booth together, I gathered up enough courage to steal a kiss from him on that second date. I think it’s safe to say that by the end of that evening, we were both smitten.

The following week we spent every evening together except for one. As a matter of fact, the one evening we did spend apart, felt endless and pointless. By day seven I was asking the question out loud to my friend Brenda, “How do you know when you’re in love with someone?” Without hesitation she replied, “When you can’t imagine your life without them in it.”

Boom. There it was. Oh my God, I’m in love! Can that really happen in a matter of seven short days? Can love really and truly manifest itself in such a short amount of time?

Yes, yes it can. And it did.

But, how do I tell Charlie? Did he feel the same? Could we be that lucky that this is a mutual feeling? In my heart, I knew he felt what I did. We had already confessed to being “in like” with one another – but how and when do you make that leap of faith and admit to being in love? We even joked about who was going to say “it” first.

And it was me.

This woman that has guarded her heart like a fortress for the last seven years said it first.

And it was scary. And freeing. But frightening just the same.

And as the rest of the earth kept rotating, time stood still for me, as I waited for a response.   And  just a few heartbeats later, Charlie echoed the same sentiment.   With that confession, my world became fresh, and new, and whole again. I slept soundly that night, unlike I have slept in many years.

On the morning of day 10, I walked into work and announced to Brenda, “I’m going to marry that man one day.” Her response? “What took you so long?”

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LOVE 

It’s universal.

If we’re lucky enough, we’ve experienced it at least once in our life. When it happens to you, it’s as if you’re the only person in the world to ever have those feelings.

It’s a ride like no other.

They’re the last person you think of before falling asleep, and the first person you think of in those early morning waking moments. The way your name sounds different and special when it’s spoken by your love. It’s when the words “I love you” isn’t enough to express the breadth and the depth of what you feel.  It’s the excitement of discovery, and the comfort of the eventual familiarity.

All of those moments and more, Charlie and I have had with one another.

We love us.

 We say it each and every day. We write it in lunchbox notes. We whisper it while the other one is sleeping. Charlie said to me one night, “I fell in love with us, before I fell in love with you.” And it made perfect sense. This unit that we have formed has such a bond and a cohesiveness, and as cliché as it sounds, it’s difficult to see where one starts and the other one ends. One night as the evening came to a close, I asked Charlie,  “What did we do before “us”?” Neither one of us could even remember.

 

LEAP YEAR 2016

It was brought to our attention early in February of the old Irish tradition that a woman can ask the man to marry her in a leap year. Now I know that may sound sexist, and I understand that  we live in the 21st century where a woman can do damn well what she wants and when she wants to – but don’t we (women) still want that romantic, storybook proposal – man down on one knee with a sparkling diamond peeking out of a jewelry box? Maybe even “Will you marry me?” spelled out in the sky?

Charlie teased me incessantly about the Irish leap year tradition. I stood my ground like the “Turner” that I am. No way would I ask him to marry me. No way would I rob myself of every romantic notion that I had of being proposed to by my love.

*** By now you’re probably saying to yourself, “Wait, isn’t this rather soon to be talking marriage?” Admittedly, if I were on the outside looking in I would most likely agree. But all I can say is, “When you know, you know.” ***

On the evening of February 29th, Charlie was still teasing me about the old Irish custom. We stayed awake that night and watched the clock as it turned to midnight. And even though we were only half joking about a leap day proposal, when I didn’t “pop the question” before the day ended,  I found myself a bit let down. Not by Charlie – but by me.  And as we settled into sleep, my thoughts went to the knowledge that I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with this man.

IMG_0295Life with Charlie is an adventure. Every day is better than the last. We have both been on our own for many years, and this new found togetherness has been something that we have both welcomed. We want to be where the other one is. We want to do what the other one is doing. At a time in our lives when we have more years behind us than in front of us, we want to spend it together.

But – we did have a bump in the road a couple of months ago, and I have to point the finger of blame at myself. The truth is, it’s been a transition for me going from the widow of a man to being a partner in a new relationship. I didn’t realize just how many times I brought up Michael’s name in conversation – and not always when it was just the two of us. I can’t say why I would bring him up – maybe because I had become accustomed to talking about him – maybe… I don’t know – did I feel guilty that I was finally moving forward? But one evening Charlie sat me down and told me that as much as he was ready to be in this relationship, he didn’t think I was.

I was devastated. And frightened beyond words. I believed in my heart that I was ready  – but had my actions said differently?

Charlie was kind, gentle, and nonjudgmental. He simply said that whenever I knew that I was ready, to let him know.

I went to sleep that evening with a heavy heart and a lot on my mind.

The next few days was a time for reflection and soul searching.

Was I really ready for this? Did I have it in me to completely give myself to someone new? Could I possibly ever trust another man with my heart? Was I ready to roll the dice and give myself over to this relationship? And then I remembered a quote from Helen Keller. She said, “Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”

And I knew.

Yes.

Hell yes I was ready. It was time to allow myself to be completely untethered by the past and look forward to the future.

But as sure as I was, would I be able to convince Charlie? This man. This incredible man that loves me and has welcomed me into his world – how do we cross that bridge?

ONE MORE LEAP

It was a Friday afternoon. We were rushing around the house trying to get ready to hit the road to Memphis, Charlie’s hometown. Did we pack the camera? Yes. What about Annie’s food (his 7 pound chihuahua). Yes, got that too. Snacks? Yes.

And as Charlie was standing on the landing of the stairs, and I on the first step, I put my arms around his neck, and I said,

“Marry me.”

No fanfare. No rose petals. No violins. No skywriting.

Just a woman asking a man to spend the rest of their lives together.

Charlie went from stunned to disbelief. But in the end, when he knew that I meant it,  he said yes.

And how did this  “Turner” girl go from her stubborn self to one that asks a man to marry her?

Well, she sees this absolutely wonderful man in front of her, one that has offered his hand in her hand, his heart to join with hers; and she swallows all pride and takes the biggest leap of faith that she’s ever taken in her life.

And he said yes.

And I’ve never been happier.

One last thing.

After we got on the road that afternoon, Charlie confessed to his plan of proposing to me while in Memphis. On top of the pyramid. At dusk. While the sun was setting over the Mississippi River.

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So in the end, we both won – because we have each other – to have and to hold from this day forward.

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We love us.

For Charlie.

All my love,
Cat

Almost seven years ago I found myself standing in a funeral receiving line as the widow of a man that took his own life. I was told later that I uttered the words, “I will never smile again.” Now that I look back, I’m sure I believed those words.

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The road has been long, and at times, seemingly endless.

Many of you have accompanied me on this unintentional journey. You have been there to catch my tears and to buffer my falls. You have endured my many questions that there were no answers to. You have witnessed my small victories and stood by my side while I experienced life’s disappointments. My gratitude for your love and support is immeasurable.

And although grateful for my many friends and family that have been there for me, I discovered that any healing, or any growth that would take place in my life,  would ultimately be up to me.

So I set out on this – what – pilgrimage, if you will, to forge a new life for myself.  A life without Michael. A life without a mate. A life where I was forced to learn my weaknesses.  A life without a safety net.

But where do you begin? Where do you go and what do you do? How do you continue when all you want to do is curl up in a ball and pretend this awful thing didn’t happen?

Well, to answer these somewhat rhetorical questions, I will borrow a scene from one of my favorite movies – Sleepless in Seattle. Tom Hank’s character is trying to explain his life as a new widower.

Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: “What are you going to do?”
Sam Baldwin: “Well, I’m gonna get out of bed every morning… breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won’t have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out… and, then after a while, I won’t have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while.”

And that’s what I did.

Breathe in.
Mourn for the love that was taken from me.

Breathe out.
Mourn for the life I had to leave behind.

Breathe in.
Fill my lungs with the fragrance of a new day.

Breathe out.
Look around me and witness the china blue sky.

 It was gradual. It was painstakingly slow.

But, in time,  I began to face each day with more optimism than the last; with more laughter (yes, I laughed and smiled again) than sorrow; with more joy than grief. I began to breathe in contentment; and exhale the pain. I have stayed true to the belief that this tragedy would not define me.

And as the years have passed, and as time has marched on, I have evolved and transformed  into a woman that absolutely loves life and all of the good, the bad, and the ugly that it encompasses.

Six months ago I began a weight loss journey; one that I have not shared on social media – maybe because it was so personal – maybe because I feared failure. But I jumped in – head first – and have not come up for air. To date, I have lost 48 pounds.

How do I feel? Wonderful. Successful. In control.

Which catapulted me back into the dating world.

Yes, I joined Match.com.

And on the first morning of my membership I am greeted with the most friendly of greetings:

“It’s a great day to say Good Morning TnShortStory.”

Meet Charlie.

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Our beginning was a couple of witty emails, followed by a surprisingly easy phone conversation, and ending in an unpretentious meeting at a local Chili’s for lunch. Come to find out,  we have a mutual friend (thank you Spencer), that corroborated that neither one of us were serial killers, stalkers, or relatively bad people.

We have been together ever since.

May I please tell you about this man?

He is kind. He has a heart that is pure, and I believe, spun of gold.  His sincerity reaches to my soul. His amazing creativity inspires me. His energy is contagious and the way he looks at me – well, it melts my heart.  His love for life is equal to mine.

We fell in love; almost in an instant.  All of this seemed to be happening so fast – or was it? Looking back – given my history and his, I believe God has been preparing our hearts for one another for some time now. The time was right. Our hearts were ready. And it happened.

There is no turning back from this irrefutable, irresistible, wonderful love. Come hell, or high water, I love this man. And he loves me. If I could safely shout it from the rooftops, I would. We are planning a life together. A future.

From the beginning we have captured a sentiment.

We love “us”.

A unit that was formed from two people into one entity.

Us.

And that is how we will remain.

Us.

Charlie and Cathy.

A life to be lived. A love to share. A future to write.

Our hearts are finally home.

All my love,
Cat

For Charlie.

Back in June of this year I wrote a blog called “Dear Mr. Free-man”.  It was actually my first blog entry. It was an open letter to the over 50, single male population. If you haven’t already read it, I encourage you to do so now so that this next blog makes sense. Go ahead, this blog will be here when you get back.

After I wrote that piece, I questioned myself. Was I being too judgmental? Did I have a chip on my shoulder because I’m not the perfect physical specimen that men are looking for? Was I being too sensitive?

After much soul searching and feeling at times, a little lonely, I decided to go back on Match.com and once more, put myself out there. I mean, if you don’t try to help yourself, then who do you have to blame for being in your circumstance?

So, being the writer that I am, I crafted what I thought to be a pretty damn good profile. Here, I’ll share it with you.

Who I am: A woman who is very excited to be in this time of my life. I am single, although not happy with the way it happened. My children are grown and out of the nest, and I am a proud Nana to Lexi, Luna, and Lucas.

I have learned a lot about myself since my husband’s death five years ago. I have discovered that I am more of a loner than previously believed. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with family and friends, but I have learned that I don’t always have to have someone around to entertain me. I have learned that I am far more independent than previously imagined. Through necessity, I have been forced to become my own problem solver. And lastly, I have learned not to sweat the small stuff – and it’s mostly all small stuff.

A few years ago I started writing a book, well, a memoir of sorts, journaling my life, wanting to document my time here on earth. What it developed into was a collection of stories. I learned that I’m a pretty good storyteller. After several people read my stories, they encouraged me to start my own blog featuring those stories. And that’s exactly what I did! It has challenged me yet in another area of my life.

I love the outdoors, whether it’s laying by the swimming pool, kicking back at the beach, or sitting by a bonfire. I am an avid charcoal griller. Although the Tennessee Volunteers still don’t have a winning season, I continue to be a Vol Fan For Life as we rebuild “brick by brick”.

My ideal partner would be a man that has a zest for the future, a passion for life, a healthy outlook and a thirst for knowledge. A keen sense of humor and honesty is critical for me.

One of my favorite poems was written in 1927 by Max Ehrmann called Desiderata, meaning “desired things”. The final verse is this:

And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore, be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham,
drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

If my profile has sparked some interest, or if you read something that you said, “Oh, me too”, then give me a shout. If not, I hope you have much success in your search for the lady you are looking for.

Not bad, huh? I put myself in the category of “A few extra pounds, widowed”. I was honest about my age – 58. I threw in recent photographs that were pretty damn good – nothing racy. My username is respectable, nothing crazy like “foragoodtime” or “hottotrot”, or “cougarlady”. After all, I don’t want to send out the wrong message.

So, I’m six weeks in to my 3 month subscription and I would like to share a few of my experiences.

My first *wink* was received just a few moments after I paid my $67.00  and got logged in. Hey, this is promising. Is my dating life getting ready to hit a home run – or am I ever going to leave the dug out?  So I *click* on his profile. As we all do, we check out our potential “soulmate’s” pictures. You may think this is contradictory behavior from someone that has expressed concern over the “outside” being overly important, but really it isn’t. I think photos can tell a lot about someone. Not necessarily are they cute, or slim, or attractive – but more, do they look genuine? Do they have a nice smile? Are they neat in appearance? Is there a sign behind them that says, “Bros before hoes?” Are they sitting in a 50 year old recliner with wood paneling behind them and a Schlitz Malt Liquor in their hand? Things like that.

Back to my *wink*.  His pictures – not bad – sure he looked a little..well redneck – but you can’t blame a boy for that. But the bio – oh the bio. Here’s what caught my eye – and I can’t make this up. ” Love spontinaity, I love a woman who can smack my ass in the middle of a crowd and you would never know she done it by the look on her face.”  So, what’s worse?  The fact that he likes his ass smacked or his poor grammar? I reeled from both infractions. Move on Cat.

My next potential suitor sent a *wink* my way, along with his one and only picture. Too bad it was a selfie taken in the bathroom with the toilet seat all the way up – like he just took a piss. Nothin’ says lovin’ like a bathroom selfie. Not surprising, I passed on this prize too. Better luck next time Cat.

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Match.com offers this fun little tool called “chat”. So while you’re online checking out who “viewed” you (and moved on), you can chat with other Match members online. So here I am, one Saturday “dude surfing” when Chat pops up.

RU4me from Buffalo, New York says,

Hi. Love your smile.

“Oh” I think. “Communication from the outside world.”

Me: Thank you. How is Buffalo treating you today?

RU4me: You real pretty. You been on long match? (Yes, he really said “long match.”

Me: Uh – no.

RU4me: I not either. Not much luck. One lady want free dinner – other lady only want night stand.

Hmmmm…. a night stand, huh? Not a dresser, or a chest of drawers, but a night stand (Yeah, I get it, he meant one night stand).

Me: Pardon me for bringing this up, but your English is quite broken. It makes me wonder if you are perhaps a scammer. If I’m wrong, forgive me. If I’m correct, shame on you.

RU4me: What you mean. Scammer?

Me: Thank you for confirming my suspicions.

RU4me: FUCK YOU

RU4me signs off and I sign off too in disgust.

I confess, there have been a few men on this site that have caught my eye. I have steered away from the obvious “lookers” and have focused on men with kind eyes, genuine and realistic profiles. I have even put myself out there and sent a few emails (yes of course witty emails) only to get no replies. Well, I did receive a no thanks, as he had just met a lady on Match.com and wanted to see where it was going first. Forget the fact that I still see him daily on the site and “available for chat”.

As much as I don’t want to admit it, this small amount of time on Match.com has shaken my confidence. I have relearned humility. Clearly, I am not the prototype of what men over 50 are looking for. I don’t hike 50 miles a day, I don’t have Christie Brinkley’s body, I NEVER want to jump out of an airplane. I couldn’t care less if I ever ski in Aspen, or run the bulls in Pamplona.

So, what does it take to attract a man that meets my minimal expectations?  Do I try to change who I am to conform to someone else’s standards? Do I diet so that I am physically attractive to these men? As I ask myself these questions I already know my answer. Hell no. Even if I tried to change my personality, I couldn’t -nor would I want to.  We are who we are. Do I diet? Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. But you can be damn sure it won’t be to attract a man.

So, what have I learned? I have learned to go back to loving myself – and never forget that I am the prize – maybe not to someone else – but to me. I have learned, once again, not to turn to others for approval, but look inside and see what is acceptable for (what my sister calls) “my own self”.  Sure, it’s nice to get compliments (I’m always open to positive affirmations), but I can’t rely on them to dictate how I feel about myself. That has to come from me.

PostScript

I welcome any comments or anecdote from your own .com dating experience.  Surely there are more out there that have questioned their own worthiness, have had their own self doubt after being exposed to this medium.  Or…just something so funny you can’t keep it to yourself – please leave a comment!

PostScriptScript

…and, if you happen to know of a single man that might be looking for a middle aged plump woman that loves life and has a warped sense of humor, send him my way….that’d be great.