The Butterflies From Meeting Someone New After Divorce
I forgot how amazing this feels.
A couple of weeks ago, I decided I was done wallowing in the heartbreak from my ex-boyfriend as well as the drama surrounding my quasi-ex-husband and his inability to deal with our divorce.
I’ve done all the self-reflecting work. I let myself heal from losing both major relationships. Turning inward, I did an internal reset on myself since I haven’t been truly single since I was 23. Continuing on autopilot isn’t something I wanted.
It hurt like a motherfucker. And I’m still a work in progress. But I finally feel like I’m my best self for someone else, instead of forever picking up the pieces of my broken shell.
Dating during Covid is impossible when there are no serendipitous encounters and everyone wears masks. I have no qualms about meeting people online; heck, it’s how I met Jon two years ago.
Initially, I set the bar too low. I wasn’t thinking like a hot girl who is employed, funny, and seemingly good in bed. If you don’t believe it, then you won’t manifest the right people. I’m not desperate; I don’t need guys that I don’t find attractive.
Next, I weeded out the douchebags. For example, a chiropractor in San Diego was adamant about chatting on the phone. I fucking hate talking on the phone but figured I should cut people slack who don’t have desk jobs and can type all day. He called while driving to work.
He prattled on about his fancy cars, insulted other people on the road, and ignored me for a minute while chatting with office staff when he parked. He quizzed me on whether I’d date someone with a Prius or a Smart car. Upon my reply of “I don’t care,” he said he thought less of me because I’d date people who had those cars. I felt a tinge of sadness, missing Jon’s absolutely ghetto car which is only hilarious because he’s a plastic surgeon and can afford better. I hope he never gets rid of that car, I love it.
Further narrowing my pool, I crossed out guys without kids. That includes empty-nesters. They’ve got loads of free time. I don’t want someone all up in my nuts every day wanting to babble on the phone. I want someone who is fine texting me between their kids’ soccer practice and dinner. Also, this isn’t 1980; stop wanting to talk on the fucking phone.
Whittling it down further, I removed sober men. All the power to them, I respect their decision and think it’s wonderful they’re following a better path for themselves and their addiction. However, I’m not an alcoholic. Sometimes, I want to just get silly and drink with someone because…why not?
Also, most guys I’ve met with addictions have a dark side to them. And that dark side rears its head in terrifying ways when they’re brooding. I’ve got plenty of my own demons and I’ve learned that I’m not equipped to handle the internal demons of addicts.
After all that, I went on a date tonight with Sean.
Sean is a single dad, a VP of a medical device company, and seemed to have his shit together. He was patient when I asked to stick with email first since I had a stalker situation years ago. When we switched to texting, everything clicked.
Our plan to meet Friday hung precariously in the wings because I became deathly ill and the video doctor told me to get tested for Covid. Sean didn’t pressure me when I remained unable to confirm until the last minute.
He lives in a swanky part of Orange County. Think of the original Real Housewives TV show; he lives in that gated community. Desperate to get away from anything near me, I told Sean that I’d meet him at a restaurant on the man-made lake by his house.
Having been sick all week, I didn’t give much thought to my outfit. Not getting a pedicure killed my shoe game. I opted to be lazy by washing and re-wearing the same outfit I wore on my date with Rob.
Oh yeah. Rob. More on him in a bit.
Sean was reserved at first when we sat down. We joked about my 4" heels compared to his height (he’s 6'3). He asked if I trusted him when it came to wine, which I did since I have the palate of a dying cow. All wine tastes the same to me. It was sweet that instead of drinking something different, he ordered a bottle for us to share.
There are very few things I’m good at in life. One of them is my ability to disarm people when they’re tense or on their best behavior. Once relaxed, Sean was fantastic. When we finished eating and drinking, he immediately grabbed the bill so that I couldn’t take it.
Unrelated note: there are many videos and articles from men bitching that women always want them to pay on the first date. I’ve been on a few first dates the past year and not once has the guy ever let me pay when I tried.
The night was still early and he asked if I wanted to walk around or head back to his place to keep drinking since he has an extensive wine collection (eye-roll; yeah that’s the reason). Being on my period, I wasn’t going to bone the guy anyway so I opted for him to drive us to his place. Like a gentleman, Sean opened the door for me. Then he said, “Before you get in the car, I have to kiss you.” It was perfect timing.
“It’s not your typical Coto de Caza mansion,” Sean warned. “It’s just a small little place for me and when I have my kids.”
Small little condo. Got it.
We pull up to his house. What did he not have? A small little condo.
What he had was a full-sized house designed and decorated straight out of a magazine. He said the previous owner was an interior designer and when she sold the house, he bought the furnishings as well.
Fancy cars don’t turn me on. Kitchen islands the size of a bus turn me on. Kitchen islands next to a window that slides completely open to extending into the backyard drive me wild with desire. Sean lifted me (I’m beginning to like being petite around a guy who played college football) onto the kitchen island and kissed me for a while.
I want to violate the fuck out of that kitchen island. I’m obsessed. If there’s any takeaway from my tale, it’s that Sean’s kitchen with Viking appliances and an island literally the size of an island was amazing.
We drank, we talked, and eventually made our way to the couch. I started with every intention of not getting naked. I technically wasn’t naked; being on my period, my thong stayed on. Ever since I dated a guy with a microdick, I’m not messing around with finding out if a guy has anything bigger than a tube of Chapstick. Might as well get him naked to find out.
One thing led to another and the next thing I know, I’m giving him a blowjob.
Didn’t I vow not to give BJs to guys who have been drinking? Yes. Yes, I did. It’s like a marathon to get them to finish. I hate not knowing if it’s worth the exercise or not. Eventually, Sean finished. At least he had the etiquette to ask if it’s okay for him to cum in my mouth.
We hung out a while longer, made out some more, and talked. Eventually, it was time to drive back to my car parked at the restaurant. I noticed he opened the door for me everywhere we went, including his car. I don’t know if I’ve ever been with a guy who consistently opens the door every time. Well-played, Sean.
Pulling up to my car, he double-checks that I’m okay to drive. We talk about our schedules for our next date. As I get in my car, Sean asks me to text him when I get home safe.
Before I got home, he already messaged asking if I made it home alright.
When I go on dates, I’m not worried about guys falling for me. Dudes like chicks who giggle at their jokes have self-deprecating humor, show too much cleavage, and debate Star Wars lore. That part’s easy.
My worry has been that I’ll never feel enamored for anyone ever again. Or that it will take a decade. Tonight I have the full-on butterflies and that giddy feeling when you have a crush. I’m excited to see Sean again. He knows my living situation and is cool with it.
I explained that maintaining a life of authenticity is important to me and that I didn’t want to start by hiding anything. They say lying gets easier the more you do it but the opposite holds true too; the more I repeat my truth, the easier it gets to tell people.
Meanwhile, what about Rob, the guy I saw last week? While we click super well and he makes me laugh, I can’t see myself dating a guy old enough to be my dad. Sticking his tongue down my throat when kissing doesn’t appeal to me either. I adore that he went the same day I asked him to get an STD test. I’m not quite sure what to do with that. I also have another guy that I have lunch plans with on Monday that I’m not all that into.
All of that is a Future Me problem. For now, I’m going to go to sleep reveling in the fantastic guy I met and our plans to hang out again later this week.
