Welcome to My Party

There are assuredly those who will think I should have titled this one "Oh, Poor Me." And look, it's not like they'll be entirely wrong. I created this and now I'm paying the price. Moreover, I knew exactly what I was getting into when I made the decision. I knew how hard it was going to be and how I was going to struggle. I knew I would feel the sting of tears and the crush of loneliness. I knew the Herculean effort it would take to step outside of my comfort zone again and again. I knew there would be many moments of anxiety, frustration, and resignation. And, YES, I knew that, before all was said and done, I would throw a pity party or two. Well, welcome to my party. 

I'm only half joking. I don't believe in wallowing or complaining, but I do believe in feeling and experiencing. Right now, I'm in the middle of the beginning. I'm tired and I have a long way to go. I am fully confident I'll make my way through. Part of that knowing comes having already run this veritably similar race numerous times. I've survived in the past and I will again. I've dug back through my Adjustment to a New Place Toolbox and dusted off a few of my tried and true "go-tos." What's that? The other part? Oh, yeah, that  -  I don't have a f***ing choice. 

I mean ok. We always have a choice. I could hole up, start work on another novel, and emerge from my fictional cocoon six months or a year from now. I could resolve I don't need friends or connection to survive and stay firmly ensconced in the comfort zone of my apartment. I could simply stop trying and eschew all contact with people, be a loner. 

Trying to meet people and establish a rapport and create some kind of longevity takes - I don't know - time? Effort? Endurance? It's a lot like running and we know how well I like running. In truth, I'm ok with running because being done feels so good. Same thing in this situation. I know from experience that I'm smack dab in the middle of the bitchiness of it all. Three months ago I charged in with high hopes and then got mired. Look, I know the "high hopes" were wishful thinking, but everything about Asheville had gone smoothly and effortlessly. Why would it not continue? 

Let me list the reasons why not -

1. I'm an introvert.
2. I'm irreligious and childless meaning I have zippo that immediately connects me to new people, like a church or school activities. 
3. This little thing called COVID-19.
4. My favorite activities - running, skating, hiking - can be effectively done alone. Writing and reading are solo endeavors as well. Moreover, alone is how I prefer to do all of that stuff.

It's not like I haven't made any effort at all. I looked at Meet Up groups and attempted online dating (even though the last relationship I started that way went sooooooo not well). Getting uninvited from an over 40s hiking group kinda sealed Meet Ups fate. My tenuous self-esteem and my nearly microscopic comfort zone surely didn't need that kind of rejection. Why did they boot me? Apparently, I haven't been in Asheville long enough. Hello? Aren't newer people in town the ones who do the most meet ups? Oh, and I'm a "fast hiker" and, being of such advanced age [insert eye roll here], they want exclusively turtle-like hiking companions. Ok, I am POSITIVE their pace would have annoyed the absolute living f*** out of me and I probably wouldn't have joined too many of their hikes. But, damn, give me the choice. Maybe there'd be some super cool folks and I wouldn't mind their mind-numbingly sluggish pace. Now we won't know and I've dispensed with the entire concept of meet ups. Baby with the bath water? You're not wrong. 

I have just one word (Ok, probably two because it's me) about online dating. Oy. Ugh, for two. My attention span for the scrolling and swiping is somewhere south of ten days. I mean I'm decent looking, positive, and nice; I know how to craft a decent profile "story;"  I can express myself well with the message-type communication format required to solidify a web-only connection. And yet, I struggle to meet anyone. Now granted the two woman I have connected with thus far in my two major forays into online dating have been absolutely incredible, but....................... Two. Two. Just two. As in, only two. That is the sum total of women who have chosen to exchange more than a couple messages with me and actually grown interested enough to meet me in person. Give it more time, like more than ten days? The dating pool of women in my age range who exude any sort of fitness (Call it my "cohort") is tiny, like beyond tiny. And the fit, emotionally stable ones are probably already dating each other. Expand my horizons? I've been doing this dating thing a long time. Time enough to know what I want and what I don't want. I want someone roughly my age who can keep up with me physically, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. Hey, lookie there! It's a stack of needles. Good times. Of course I could settle, but whhhhhhyyyyyyy would I want to?

To get rid of the abject loneliness and disconnection that motivated this blog? Nope. It's just going to take some time and effort and endurance. Three things I'm pretty good at. Just a warning, there will probably be a few more pity parties along the way and I'll probably throw a few more figurative babies out with the bath water. All that said, I know two things about this journey I'm on - (1) It's going to be f***ing hard, and (2) I'll make it through. It's the safest bet you'll ever take.