There are a lot of reasons I chose to move to San Francisco. I wanted better weather – I was really beginning to hate winters in State College. I wanted better job opportunities – there are only a handful of cities with a lot of nonprofit jobs (New York, DC, Philadelphia, Portland, Seattle, San Francisco, LA, Chicago, Austin). I wanted diversity – diversity of people, culture, language, environment. I wanted a better dating scene – more people who I not only find attractive but are also better aligned in politics and spirituality.
By comparison, my last two moves, to Memphis and to State College, had far fewer considerations. When I moved to Memphis, I felt like I needed a change and I was offered a job I couldn’t turn down. I wasn’t interested in dating, I assumed I’d get better weather, I wasn’t overly concerned about other job prospects, and diversity wasn’t on my radar. When the job in Memphis didn’t work out, I became acutely aware of just how few other job opportunities existed in the area (the pandemic didn’t help). Moving to State College was more of a defensive move than anything else. I knew the weather would be crappy, I suspected the dating scene would be bad (though it still wasn’t a priority at the time), and I knew central Pennsylvania was more conservative and less diverse than most places. I needed a place to stay and my family had a house I could use. I found a job where I felt I could be successful and I would be doing meaningful work. I figured the rest would take care of itself – maybe.
Generally speaking, the absence of things like job prospects, dating prospects, and cultural and environmental diversity in those other locations has not only brought clarity to some of what I’m looking for in life, but has given me a deeper appreciation for those things when I encounter them… All but the dating thing.
It’s weird. I wanted more options when it came to meeting people. It was a priority in my decision-making process. Now that I have it, I don’t seem to care all that much. I can’t figure out why that is. In a note to myself, I jokingly called it an erectile dysfunction of the soul. I think I know what I’d like the end result to look like, I just don’t feel terribly motivated to pursue it. I scroll through profiles, look at photos, read answers to generic prompts and that’s it. I look but don’t engage. Rinse. Repeat. It’s like I’m mildly hungry (or bored) and I keep looking in the fridge expecting something to catch my eye and nothing does. Or it does, but then I’m like, meh, I don’t need the extra calories.
It’s also possible that there are too many choices. An extended metaphor I was playing with was that it’s like trying to choose a Chinese restaurant in the middle of Chinatown. I don’t really feel like going to each one to find the few that stand out. There’s probably also something funny and self-deprecating in the metaphor about not understanding some of the items on the menu, and not being very good with chopsticks, and that despite eating a lot, I’ll still be hungry later…
I’m joking, of course, but modern dating is a lot like shopping and trying things on for size – or as one meme put it, dating after 40 (or 30 or 50) is “like trying to find the least damaged thing at a thrift store that doesn’t smell.”
It’s been years since I’ve approached this dating-thing with intentionality. In those intervening years, I’ve focused on living my life more deliberately and transparently. That feels like it’s part of the disconnect. If I can’t pursue it with purpose and gusto, I tend to not want to pursue it at all. Also in those intervening years, I’ve focused on building a more internal life with fewer desires. As such, I’m finding gusto to be overrated.
How this plays out when I open the dating app fridge is that I’m ruling people out before there’s even a conversation. Despite many many examples in my life of being rewarded for being open and taking chances, I still get stuck in my own very narrow way of thinking of “how things should be” or “what has potential.”
This isn’t entirely counter-productive behavior. From an evolutionary perspective, it’s useful to learn from our mistakes and to try to repeat what has been successful in the past. It’s helpful to remember what hunting patterns work well, that the rocks aren’t effective against the mammoth, and where the herd can be found in the cold and barren days of February. But dating (along with many things in modern life) is not a life or death decision.
What wonders and connections am I missing out on when I become overly-focused on what has worked in the past or equally focused on avoiding what I’m convinced won’t work? Despite all of my practice on being in the moment, taking things at face value, and seeing what adventures life presents, I can’t seem to break away from my old habits of trying to predict outcomes and cutting my losses before I’ve even tried.
Years ago, I had gone through a discovery phase – one in which I had my ideas of what type of person I’d like to meet. During that time, I was, on more than one occasion, pleasantly surprised to find out I had no idea what I was looking for. Or more accurately, I was lucky enough to meet people who challenged my assumptions. Now, in a new city, I’m finding myself setting very similar limitations, except that I’m less willing to go through that discovery phase again. I don’t want someone who looks like they go to EVERY Burning Man. I don’t want someone who lives far away. I don’t want someone who uses filters on their photos, or has lots of yoga pose pictures, or gives a hang-loose sign, or does x, y, or z. Add in an attractiveness vs. interesting matrix (I’m attracted but I’m not sure they’d be interesting vs. I’m not attracted but would love to hang out with them because they seem cool – both of which result in being ruled out) and I quickly find that I’m looking at dozens of profiles and saying no to everyone.
Experience and outcomes have taught me to behave this way. The person I find attractive but maybe not so interesting bores me. The people I find interesting but I might not be attracted to usually end up being people I’d like in my life, but maybe not as a partner, and because we met on a dating site – there’s an expectation that it’s going to go somewhere. In both of those situations, I used to tell myself, “you never know.” I’m less willing to do that now.
I can’t rule out that part of this is me being protective of my time. I don’t want to go on a bunch of meh dates. I have an entire city at my disposal and lots of things I can do with my time. I can’t rule out that in my attempt to be kinder (and also to not have other people experience some of what I’ve experienced in relationships), I’m afraid to mislead someone else or lead them on – and there’s no good way to say I like you, but not in that way. I’m hesitant to meet if I suspect it’s a nonstarter. I can’t rule out that I’m afraid to get it wrong again – or worse, that I’m convinced I’ll get it wrong again. I can’t rule out, that I’m still feeling petulant about having done all of this work before… petulant about having figured out what I was looking for and believing I had found it.
In one of those odd twists of timing, as I was writing this, I found myself talking with someone who would probably challenge my assumptions about dating and what I’m looking for. She asked if I knew my Enneagram type. I had to look it up, but remembered I had written about it (and my Myers-Briggs) here. From the Myers-Briggs description (in which I fall into the Advocate type):
Not ones for casual encounters, people with the Advocate personality type instead look for depth and meaning in their relationships. Advocates will take the time necessary to find someone with whom they truly connect. Once they’ve found that someone, their relationships will reach a level of depth and sincerity of which most people can only dream.
Advocates will go out of their way to seek out people who share their desire for authenticity, and out of their way to avoid those who don’t, especially when looking for a partner.
All that being said, people with the Advocate personality type often have the advantage of desirability. They are warm, friendly, caring, and insightful, seeing past facades and the obvious to understand others’ thoughts and emotions.
Advocate personalities are enthusiastic in their relationships. There is a sense of wisdom behind their spontaneity, allowing them to pleasantly surprise their partners again and again. These types aren’t afraid to show their love, and they feel it unconditionally.
Advocates create a depth to their relationships that can hardly be described in conventional terms. Relationships with Advocates are not for the uncommitted or the shallow.
And from the Enneagram description in which I’m a type 9:
People are often drawn to Nines as potential life partners for many reasons. They are comforting and supportive, warm and sensual. They adapt well to domestic life and enjoy being with their partner. And they seem to be utterly without any significant needs of their own. They are uncomplicated and undemanding to the extent that others get the false notion that the Nine will meet their needs without needing anything much from them. Therein lies the source of problems with Nines in relationship. Of course, Nines do have many personal needs, but to the extent that they are not being met, Nines shut down and withdraw from the other rather than risk getting into a conflict.
All of which might provide some additional explanation for the limp-dick approach to dating. I avoid in-authenticity (in others and in myself), and I see through facades (usually). The earliest rounds of dating are often full of posturing, hesitation, and hedging. I suspect my tolerance for all of that is pretty low.
I’m trying to think more openly about all of these things, but I find myself stuck in this mode of thinking that says if there’s even the slightest feeling of “ehhh” on my part (without talking or meeting), then I’m not really interested in talking or meeting to learn more. I guess what I’m really trying to figure out is if I’ve become risk-averse or cynical or utilitarian or simply convinced that true connections are a lightening in a bottle type of experience and it’s foolish to expect that magic more than once or twice in a lifetime.
I began this post a few days ago when someone I was talking with had said they went on a date and it was fun. I thought to myself, yes, that’s how it should be, fun… yet at the same time, I’m struggling to imagine it being all that fun. “if it doesn’t have potential for x, why bother?” That line of thinking led to the opening paragraphs on why I moved here and how I may have overestimated my openness to meeting new people (at least within the confines of dating). In nearly every other aspect of the move – my expectations have been surpassed. I’m in better shape and health. I have a great place. I have leads on a few jobs. There’s lots to do. The scenery is beautiful. The weather is good. Even in terms of numbers – there are lots and lots of people to meet. But I suppose until I break through this mental block and get more comfortable with taking chances and being underwhelmed but also being open to that wow type of connection, I’ll keep looking in the fridge never quite sure if I’m hungry or not.
Love your self reflective quality. 💚