Why Does Divorced Dating Still Feel Like High School?

The moment that made me realize how unevolved we are

I’m out with my friends. It’s a good night or so I think. We are grown-ass adults. Sorry, but there’s a need to emphasize this. I think we are mature. I think we’ve evolved.

Until all hell breaks loose.

It seems a girl thinks another girl is interested in her man.

I’m none the wiser.

I’m a divorced virgin. I’m a divorce bystander. I’m the girl who wasn’t interested in dating. I’m the girl who was not ready. I’m the girl who’s simply along for the ride.

But again, all hell is breaking loose.

And I’m in the middle of the fiery angels.

I watch with shock and dismay.

I’m not going to lie. At first, I think the one girl is joking. She couldn’t possibly be spinning the other girl around by the arm. Especially since their combined weight might not even cap two hundred.

A ninety-pounder taking on another ninety-pounder.

But it’s for real.

It’s an all-out shocker.

When I finally digest what’s going on, I can’t sit back. I sober up rapidly. I get involved. I blame my overly loyal nature and a family of first responders.

Not to mention, I know both of these women.

I walk toward the offender.

“You need to knock it off,” I say. “You need to settle down. What are you doing?”

“You don’t know what she did,” she says.

She attempts to explain. But all I can think is…really?! WTF! What are you doing? She walks out before I can settle her down.

I walk up to someone who’s witnessed everything. She was there with us. She knows everyone. She’s as distressed as I am. Yet there’s an unusual calm to her.

“Seriously?” I say. “How is this even possible at our age?”

“Well,” she says. “It’s not that different. We are all the same people just older.”

First of all, let me qualify.

We may all be older.

We may all be the same people. But I didn’t know insecure people in high school or college or my twenties. I never witnessed anything like this in my youth.

This isn’t remotely normal to me.

There’s a reason I got involved.

There’s a reason I didn’t sit back and watch all hell break loose.

I was taught to get involved when there was a need. When a strong sense of right and wrong overpowered the desire to be complacent. I was conditioned to step forward when the entire crowd stepped back.

Even during a ridiculous high school reenactment.

A grown woman’s divorced nightmare.

That’s what happens when you grow up in a family of first responders.

I watched a huge Irish Catholic family of firefighters, cops, and nurses move toward a need. Any need, any urgency, and any call. They answered it. It didn’t matter what the day, time, or venue was.

Somehow I find myself far more proud of my family.

They aren’t navigating high school as an adult.

Divorce forced me back into school.

Suffice it to say I haven’t seen the surprisingly strong ninety-pound tackler since then. Call me crazy, but I wanted off of that ride. I didn’t understand insecurity at sixteen and I still don’t understand it.

At least, not to the degree it takes other people down.

In this case, literally.

But the other night someone said something to me. It reminded me of my friend who said it’s not all that surprising because we are still the same people.

There was some drama between a few dating couples.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “Why don’t they have a conversation to clear this up?”

“Oh, that won’t happen,” says a friend.

“Why?” I ask. “We are grown adults this is silly. Dating should be more evolved at this age. “

“Really?” says the friend. “It’s the same thing as when we were younger, only now we are older. Nothing has really changed.”

I don’t want to believe the words I’ve just heard.

I want to believe I’m an adult.

High school is a thing of the past.

But despite these somewhat extreme examples, I have my own story. I have just ended a short relationship. In itself, not a big deal. But the way it ended was a big deal.

It wasn’t necessarily ideal.

It wasn’t necessarily adult.

It wasn’t necessarily resolved.

It didn’t end well despite both of our good intentions.

And we were both truly good-intentioned.

I’m not ninety pounds. I didn’t make a scene in a restaurant. I didn’t get jealous. I didn’t swing another ninety-pounder around. I can legitimately clear my name of all the aforementioned crimes.

And as a disclaimer, this was nothing like my normal night out.

I don’t routinely witness a wildly insecure woman.

But somehow I can’t deny that divorced dating feels like high school.

Whether it’s the ambiguity, the anticipation, the confusion, the conflict, the ghosting, the immaturity, the insecurity, or the lack of resolution. Whether it’s the committed guy, the non-committal guy, the cocky guy, the cheater guy, or the girl or whatever.

It’s still there.

You name it, it still exists.

We are still the same…

Just older.