I've been in love several times in my life and I'm grateful I never gave up on romance despite all the heartbreak because had I thrown in the towel, I wouldn't be here - living and loving.
You see, I'm not naturally a light-hearted, the glass is half-full, happy-go-lucky type. I lean dark and broody. I ruminate and excavate my thoughts and feelings for meaning. I know what it's like to drown in the depths of my emotions. And I've had some lows in my life that have threatened my will to go on. Fortunately, instead of calling it quits, I've managed to dig myself out of the self-imposed holes I've put myself in at different points in my life.
My separation from my ex-wife in 2016 and subsequent divorce in 2017, which coincided with the election of 45, was a particularly difficult time period that depleted me of my source energy. I didn't want to submit to failure and giving up on my marriage reeked of shame; so, rather than accepting what had happened and objectively understanding what had gone wrong so that I could move on, I resisted and got stuck in my own personal hell - a dysfunctional mind that was not-at-all well.
My world as I knew it and the ideas I'd built up in my head about who I was were crushed and it felt like everything I understood to be true evaporated. What I was observing in our country and in my home, proved to be a huge disappointment. Reality sucked and I wanted to change it, but couldn't. Everything felt outside of my control; I felt out of control. I began to doubt my purpose, devalue my worth, and question the point of love and life itself. I was depressed, for sure, but it hadn't started after my relationship fell apart; it started way before. The truth is that the issues I was having with myself contributed to my marriage falling apart.
I'm a serial monogamist and relationships endings are never fun, but one's marriage ending is a whole other ballpark. For me, it was like making it into the major leagues of love quite certain that I had what it took to succeed and finding out I couldn't hack it! It was a huge blow to my ego and to my heart as I found myself nearing middle age and having to restart.
Suddenly, at 37 years old, I was single again; not at all how I thought I'd end up. But it happens. I tried to distract myself by embracing my single status and doing the one thing I'd never done in my whole life - date! I told myself, I'd give it at least 2 years before attempting to love another again; that was my caveat to throwing myself back out there relatively soon after my ex and I broke up. I knew I'd need time to heal and that I had a lot of internal work to do; and so, although I jumped on the apps to find some comfort and fun with other human beings, I put up a boundary for myself - I would not fall in love!
As a grown-up, I'd never been single for very long and most of my relationships started with little effort on my part. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but most of my ex-girlfriends sought me out. Now, nobody had to chase me as I was never into playing games; I just happened to be an eager lover ready to leap into the deep-end of relationships. But my willingness to settle into a partnership rather quickly meant that I never gave myself the time to consider what I wanted from a partnership. I figured that falling in love means you go for it full throttle and monogamy was the ultimate relationship model. (I'd tried open relationships when I was in my 20s briefly, but it didn't work for me.)
The two years that I took for myself were key for me to get to my now reality. I learned to date in my late thirties, which to me meant learning to navigate new experiences with new people as honestly as possible. I figured if I was going to fall in love again and give a future partnership a real shot, I had to focus on myself and what I wanted. And in doing so, I learned a lot. Through trial and error, I figured out who I am and who I want to be in a relationship, but more importantly I learned about the breath and depth of my love beyond romantic ties and that was essential.
Being single on purpose without denying myself the opportunity to meet new people was part of my journey to self love and self worth. I learned how to tell people very clearly what I was and wasn't looking for. I wasn't looking to settle into a new relationship right away, but I didn't want to close myself off to the possibility for authentic connections that could possibly lead to something more serious later. I learned how to establish boundaries and communicate more effectively about my feelings. I learned to accept rejection without it killing my sense of self and how to let people down as kindly as possible without feeling too guilty about it.
I'm not saying that any of this was easy; dating definitely had its challenges, but it was worth it and I'd recommend it to anybody. Given where I was in life, a divorced-queer-approaching-40s person, and because I wasn't seeking out an immediate love connection, my pool of candidates wasn't exactly large, especially in Rhode Island, where I was living at the time. Most people my age seemed to be looking for someone who wanted something more serious and many of them were divorced, like me, but with children.
Now, I'm not against dating single moms with kids. In fact, had I been in a different place in my life, that would have been ideal because I love children. But since I needed time to figure myself out, I couldn't risk getting attached to kids, which would have been an inevitability for me. That's when I began to expand my age range and suddenly my options were many.
Younger people seemed more open to my honesty and boundaries and not as interested in settling down. They cared less about age than I did and were looking to have fun without the pressure of defining anything. In general, they were more progressive and therefore, more socio-politically aligned. In fact, some shook up my mindsets and made me face my own biases and stale concepts, which I appreciated a lot. I fell in love with the queer community I came to know through dating as I discovered it had expanded and gotten healthier since my own coming out. I fell in love with the diversity within it and loved the individuals I got to connect with even if it was only for a minute.
Many of those I dated, I remember fondly, particularly the person who sparked my desire and made me want more once again. Thanks to them, I began to realize that I was getting closer to being ready. Because of them, I actually wrote out a list of characteristics I wanted in the next person I was to be with; something I'd never done before. Beyond some basic and vague personality traits, I'd never taken the time to consider more specifically what traits were important to me in a mate.
In doing that exercise, I apparently had sent out a clearer message to the universe about who I wanted in my life and that's when my now love found her way to me. She also happened to put out a call on her own as I was closing out my two years of being single when we finally met.
Dating helped me get through a very dark period in my life. Not only did my marriage end, but my faith in people, particularly people in this country, had dissipated. Everything that was going on left me feeling angry and hopeless much of the time, but meeting strangers with the intention of having a good time, and talking to them, trying to get to know them, and finding common ground or similar interests was good for me in the long run. It kept me open to possibilities and helped me pull myself out of my negativity. It helped me practice loving in life when I least felt like it until I began living in love, which is how I like it.
