The Boy – End of Dates

For my friend at the school gates who was eagerly awaiting the next instalment in my dating saga; I have been ghosted.

Oh! The shame!

So it turns out that The Boy was exactly that, a childish boy. I’ve never been on the receiving end of a ghosting episode, I always thought it was for the very fabulous, busy millennial types who have grown up with this world of uber-efficient mate choosing. I mean, who cares about the feelings of one potential lover when there are another ten queueing up?

However, I didn’t expect to be cast into a black hole by a fully grown, 40-year-old, man.

For those of you who are unaware of the ghosting phenomenon, it is a very harsh and unspeakably rude way of being dumped. Basically, if you want to cut ties with someone you are dating, you simply stop all communication. Delete their number, WhatsApp conversations, facebook friendship etc. etc. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

No, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’. None of this, ‘I’m just not ready for a relationship’, or ‘I really like you, but…’. Not even a slow fizzle out, without ever having to explain. It’s brutal.

Ghosting – Urban Dictionary
The act of suddenly ceasing all communication with someone the subject is dating, but no longer wishes to date. This is done in hopes that the ghostee will just “get the hint” and leave the subject alone, as opposed to the subject simply telling them he/she is no longer interested. Ghosting is not specific to a certain gender and is closely related to the subject’s maturity and communication skills. Many attempt to justify ghosting as a way to cease dating the ghostee without hurting their feelings, but it in fact proves the subject is thinking more of themselves, as ghosting often creates more confusion for the ghostee than if the subject kindly stated how he/she feels.

Carmen: How was your second date with Kyle?
Beth: I thought it went well, but I’ve texted him a couple of times since then and he’s been ghosting me.
Carmen: What? I thought he was more mature than that.

So that was that! And then, to add insult to injury, when I shared my tale with the ExOH he said, “Awww”, (side head tilt) “I bet that was a knock to your confidence?”. Pffft! NO!!! It was far more indicative of his immaturity, lack of respect and, for me I suspect, a lucky escape…

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What’s the story?

So, what is That Girl Thing all about? And why now?

It has taken me a very long time to pluck up the courage to write this blog, but now that the dust is settling on my total life reset, I’m ready to share.

When my babies were born, I was well aware that I might be affected by the thing that many pregnant women dread, post natal depression. And, just as my own Mama predicted, I was. It happened differently with both children, and wiped me out for two years both times. I won’t lie,  it was horrendous. I’ll go into more detail in the posts to follow, find them under Wellbeing.

Yep, that.
Yep, that.

So why now? My youngest is 4! Well, after the initial PND induced fog had cleared, I also lost my business and livelihood during the recession, and then decided to leave my husband. It’s a long story, and one I will be sharing, but yes, I’ve been a busy girl!

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I am also a very lucky girl. My ex (RB) and I have a fantastic relationship now, and we are one of success stories of amicable separation. This is my second reason for writing. I am very proud of my decision to call time on our marriage, and doubly proud of how we have both dealt with it – but it hasn’t been easy. There have been lots of compromises, bitten tongues and tolerance on both parts. We are now at the stage where we are both open to meeting new partners, this is the next step in our journey as co-parents, and one that I hope will continue to be easy and open. If nothing else, it’ll be interesting.

And then there is the horror of realising that I am now a 36 year old single woman, who might need to get naked in front of a new man at some point. RB and I got together early 2004 – twelve years of easy street! You get lazy, I’m sure you know what I mean. It scary! I have now idea of The Rules?? Well, I’m about to find out about the new world of dating, sex and love. It is both exciting and terrifying in equal measure…

Horror

That Girl Thing is about loving the girl/woman within. Putting her first (sometimes) and respecting her for all her awesomeness. After all, a happy mama equals happy babas. So, today is the day. Today is the day that I took my last antidepressant. And I like the date, 1.11. It feels like a good day for day 1.

N.B. // A parenting blog, this ain’t. I’ll happily admit that I’m not the best parent in the world, but I’m not the worst. My kids think I’m OK so that’s fine with me, although I feel that I could be a lot better at it. There is always room for improvement, so I suspect there will be the occasional ‘imperfect parent’ post along the way…

Dating – The Story So Far: Part 3

 

Dating, the story so far : Part 3

So after The Beast, I started to feel a little bit more positive about meeting someone. He had been funny, smart and a total gentleman, well, most of the time…

After some wine, one summer evening, I was chatting with a friend and we decided to set me up a Plenty of Fish account.

Plenty of Fish is a bit like the Tesco of online dating. One site fits all.

I was apprehensive at first, after my first attempt at this internet dating game went so badly, but thought, what the hell…

POF is a minefield of tattooed biceps, ripped torsos, cyber dweebs and guys who have zero idea of what a good photograph looks like, bless ’em. They lie about their age, occupation, marital status; the works. Or so I have learned.

But I digress. I thought, I’ll take this with pinch of salt, let’s just see what happens. I had loads of messages – I was the obvious newbie.

After what felt like hours of reading though messages, and studiously getting back to prospective suitors (you do not need to do this, just delete them, no one will be offended so I found out), I whittled them down to a couple of potential beaus.

There was the wayward business owner, Paul, and the investment entrepreneur, Anthony.

Paul looked like a fun-loving guy. He had two kids, tick.  His profile showed lots of larking around and general mayhem, tick. He could spell, tick. Why wouldn’t I go out with a guy like that? He loved to talk about his many weird and wonderful experiences of digital dating, it was interesting to hear the other side of the story. When we met, he was charming and interesting. Less handsome in real life if I’m being brutally honest, but he was kind and funny which is far more important in my book. Anyway, we had a couple of drinks and parted ways with date two arranged for a few days later. And thats when it changed. The jovial banter was replaced by some serious sex chat, I mean eye-watering stuff. I went along with it for a bit as it was quite entertaining, and I was a bit bored. Then he recorded himself having a wank and sent me the audio. And that was the end of that.

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And then there was Anthony. My date with Anthony is what I suspect most people use Tinder for. We had been chatting for a few days and he seemed like a very intelligent chap. He was fit, really beyond buff fit. Think Adonis. And he had money, a self made millionaire. Now I’ve never been out with anyone like that before, I’d feel way too self conscious and under-achieving. However, I’d had a pretty rough day at work and we were chatting away on whatsapp when he suggested I come and meet him for a drink to cheer me up. It was about 10pm and I had had some wine at this point. That’s no excuse for what I did, but it did help. God, I hope my parents don’t read this…

He said, “I’m calling you a cab, get in it and we’ll go for dinner”.

{Safety Tip: This is what you definitely do not do}

I still can’t believe I actually trusted him enough to drag myself off the sofa, get ready, get in his cab, drive to Manchester and meet a total stranger. As it happens it was fine. We had a lovely time drinking champagne and nibbling on canapés. The staff were closing up around us, it was actually quite romantic. I’ll spare you the details of what happened next, but it involved a very expensive hotel room and the most outrageous walk of shame the next day…