Plenty of (Dead) Fish

I made it to 31. One year older and another year wiser. I was out enjoying drinks with my younger sister, and after many laughs and shots she suggested that I join a popular dating app that millions of people use. She stated that she knows couples who have met through the site and some have even gotten married. I was unsure about it. After reading countless stories of dates going wrong, I dismissed her sentiment. As 2018 approached I thought of all the countless things I want to carry out in the coming year. One of those accomplishments is to discover love and happiness.

On January 6, 2018, I took my sister up on her offer and joined. I filled out all the typical questions: your astrological sign, where you rank among your siblings, and the toughest section of all, the "About Me" section, just to name a few. I collected four of my best photos and posted them. I even paid extra to become an "Upgraded User." Soon I figured out either I'm a shallow human being or the city in which I live has manufactured the same guy. I created a profile that was "mysterious" and inviting. After a while I questioned my preference in men. What I liked and admired wasn't liking me. I tried to be open-minded by not judging based on looks. I went as far as reading the profiles. After reading these profiles I wouldn't know whether I should laugh or cry. For example, it's this very attractive man who wants a relationship, has a good job, and is educated. You then get warm and fuzzy inside thinking to yourself, "This could be the one." Then you get down to the About Me and read things like: "If you are about playing games, get to stepping." Or "If you aren't ready for a nice guy, keep it moving." As a black woman who is trying to present I'm not the "angry black woman," I read these profiles that sound like bitter black women. These men sound broken and have trust issues.

After reading a plethora of these profiles, I wanted to wave the white flag. The only direction my thumb knows is to swipe left (dislike) at this point. After a week I matched with what I thought was a good guy. Let's call him *Elvis. Decent looking guy with beautiful skin, goofy smile, and an intriguing About Me. For weeks we've texted back and forth, not every day (as I would hope). So, I got the question I dreaded: "When are we going to meet?" My mind was racing looking over my calendar trying to figure it out. I messaged my sister to tell her, "You were right. This could work." After hours of planning I gave a day. After that I got no reply. My mind works in mysterious ways. It suddenly shuts off. Three words entered my mind. "He's not interested." A couple of days later I got a response with the excuse of "I didn't see your message." What I read was, "Thanks but no thanks." Now I'm back a square one.

In the past month I've learned so much about myself and my interaction with men. First, what it is you think you want isn't what you need. Looks can only take you so far. Yes, he's physically attractive, but do he and I share the same morals and values? Second, learning to have patience. What you want and need doesn't come easy. Learning lessons along the way builds character. Lastly, not allowing one bad apple to spoil the bunch. This process requires a lot of optimism. Allowing one guy to ruin the process isn't fair to me and the other guys on the dating app. I have to kiss a lot of frogs to find my Prince.