I Met My Husband In The Lockdown
In the years to come stories are going to be very different from how they are now.
I love a social experiment, actually, I love lots of kinds of experiments but humans and their behavior fascinate me.
As an avid people watcher, being moved into a high rise flat has been fruitful. I was nervous at first as I’d moved from London to Aberdeen to have my little girl and it’d been less than a year since the Grenfell tragedy.
However, watching out of my window to see gaggles of drunks rolling down hills after they stumble and miss their step, became my new simple pleasure; as did watching on-foot and car police chases in the estate and across the golf course.
Single pregnancy into single motherhood, I’d hoped the cross-country move was going to equal love and support from my family, instead, I saw isolation and situational depression.
I’d already socially distanced myself from certain areas of interaction before the outbreak happened; dating being one of the self -imposed distancings. Deciding I’d wait until I learned new habits that stopped me from interacting with narcissistic guys who were addicted to insecurity fuelled power struggles; I was out.
Could this be the start of the re-enactment of wartime love stories? love separated by distance?… With plenty of folks choosing to really commit to online dating — there’s certainly going to be plenty of love stories arise, surely.
I’ve already run aground with my intentions of committing harder to online dating. Oops. Over the years I’ve come to realise the power of the law of attraction, in the sense that I tell myself I’m meant to be single and just kind of kept myself there.
Not responding to messages after high volume swiping, or veering towards the wildly unsuitables; I’m either clearly still drawn to them or I’m subconsciously self-sabotaging to hold up my story of eternal singledom?
Bit of both probably.
There comes a point where I have to realize, in many senses, that I’ve been social distancing into lockdown in my very own way for many moons now. An adult child of alcoholics trying to protect herself from further loss, pain and rejection. This is where I have to self-parent my ass off and run headwind into the fear and just date already.
I was wildly flirtatious in my 20s (politely put). Somewhere along the way I lost the confidence in relationships and swung instead for deeply unfulfilling flings with commitment-phobes. Little did I realize, they only mirrored my own phobia of getting involved.
I’m a mummy now. I’ve shed unhealthy connections in my life that didn’t show me the love and acceptance I deserve; including members of my own remaining family.
I’ve many family members still alive, but none of them have displayed much other than conditional love and an air of ‘you should be grateful we would accept you into our fold’… Bizarre. The exception being my grandad who has always supported me.
I‘m going to give Tinder a chance. Ripping down the limiting belief that it’s a 99% dead end. I mean, there's a lot of rubble to shift before unearthing sign of life; it’s there though.
I’d love to make the excuse that I’m not ready but the fact is, I am. It’s only fear of the unknown and hitting old patterns that hold me back. And the fact that when you’ve abstained from sex for a full year it feels a little like breaking in a new notebook or opening a bottle of fancy champagne; you don’t really want to do it unless the occasion is right.
No, I’m not being fully honest there.
I don’t want to give in to be disappointed. Like the time I met a guy, I really liked him and when it got down to it, we didn’t make it past foreplay because he thought he was in a porno; a bad one.
After a long period without sex, this was devastating, but kind of clear I was rushing myself to break the fast.
Next up was the guy that I actually did start dating; I let it slide that he had the same first name as my dad… To later find he almost identically shared my dad’s name with the exception of an ‘O’. It could only happen to me. It’s not like I have the most common name in the world either?!
I’d go on a first date with a police officer who admitted he often let people off with warnings so he didn’t have to do paperwork; refused to say anything nice and claimed he wanted a girlfriend (lucky me) but said he also needed his ego to be fluffed by messages from other women… To feel wanted; apparently.
No thank you. Where old, super-codependent me may have taken on this challenge, I bowed out; incredulous that someone might be that honest in their insecurity and narcissistic tendency. At least he was honest I guess.
I can laugh now.
Now that I understand the pattern and avoid my weird but wildly common addiction to assholes.
Back to the point at hand. Think of this blog as my accountability to get back on the horse and try my hand at committing to the dating process.
Instead of old low-self-worth habits where I assume there’s something wrong with them if they like me — when really they’re lovely — if I like them, I’m going to give it a go.
It’s a time where Facetime dating and Deliveroo will be the order of the day.
I have fun on Facetimes with friends, so the same must be possible with a date. Though I may not crack out the Aquarela Do Brazil by the Jazzband Jukebox out for toilet breaks — like I used to on tipsy Factetimes with my sister (I think I’m hilarious and shared the link — you’re welcome).
I’m a Personal Trainer by trade so goalsetting is something I’m very used to as a key for success, especially in setting habits. This is no different, I’m going to set date targets to hit or I won’t do it.
Yael Wolfe, Shannon Ashley, Meaghan Ward and Christine Stevens have been delicious reading and inspiration in reclaiming my sexuality, which seemed to have done a runner on me since becoming a mum. I now have dots marked on my calendar of successfully made self-love dates. Half the battle of getting back in the dating game feeling like was lost in I feeling so desexualized that I couldn’t comprehend the idea of even flirting. I’m awakening now.
In a world where phones and technology have replaced face to face and deep interaction, I think this is where we will come full circle.
We’ve taken the ability to interact in person for granted, to play with our new toys. Now that the option to interact has been stolen from us for a while, like any typical lost (genuine) love we realize what we have lost now it’s gone.
For now, we can embrace all that technology allows us, in future though, I see us falling back in love with old school dating, old school friendships, and less distraction. We’ll see.
And who knows, maybe I’ll meet my husband in this lockdown?… Stranger things have happened.
Amanda Jayne is single mummy to Ruby, aged 2, Personal Trainer and Nutrition Advisor of over a decade; and a C-PTSD warrior passionate about sharing all she’s learned about personal growth, self-development, fitness hacks, and her own healing and wellbeing journey.
