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I’m just Naive (and a scrawny white boy) Back before CMB, Tinder, Insert-Techy-Name-Here — online dating wasn’t mainstream.As a result, people who turned to their desktops – (yes, this was back in the ice age of big hardware) – were genuinely interested in finding a relationship, however long or short term that might be.They crave adventure and fun, still want to climb the highest mountain or drive the fastest car, and yet they also want to be loved in a cosy-jumper, walk-the-dog, you’re-my-best-friend sort of a way.While still targeting an audience of young ones who are in awe of mountain-biking heroes. Maintaining my sense of humour and sense of perspective.As much as a desire for intimacy, adult company and passion is normal – and to be celebrated – dating websites have been a sobering reminder that I need to plan for this next stage in life as an independent being.Enjoying time with friends, my children, my work and so on.And if someone who “winks” at me turns out to be someone who could join me on that journey, then of course I would “like” that very much.
Where are the 50-year-olds who are just like me, I ask myself? Because, as I am soon to find out from their profiles, it looks as if 99 per cent of them are only looking for women under 35, who are “happy to have casual sex”, “are in good shape” and who “look good in a LBD”. I had been warned by single girlfriends about the lying giveaways (and yes I know, women lie too). I kicked his gluteus maximus before he could go any further.
The hardest thing to learn, however, is that I cannot be dependent on dating to find happiness in life.
I knew it as a young thing, and I am reminded of it again as a much older thing.
This is when I realise that dating online at my age is not only like visiting a foreign country for the first time, there is a whole new language to learn too. Then there were the technical terms: pansexual, sapiosexual, heteroflexible… If they wear sunglasses in all their photos, liars. But I soon realised that these guys were all starting to remind me a bit of John Noakes from early days. Fun and interesting, in their own quirky ways, but not people that were really going to rock my world.
LBD is “little black dress” (oh please), but then there was a whole other list of acronyms to come to terms with. And to think I had struggled with Little Black Dress. One or two got close to shaking it a bit, but then then ran a mile.