Ooh, somebody, ooh (somebody)
Anybody find me somebody to love?
(Can anybody find me someone to love)

–Freddie Mercury (1946-1991; legendary British singer-songwriter, best known as the charismatic frontman of the band Queen; the quote is from their song “Somebody to Love.”)

Some people say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Maybe so. Personally, I’ve never been one to imitate. I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum. Yet, way back in 2013, I ran across an essay by Anne Lamott, a New York Times best-selling author and one of my favorite writers. The title was straight to the point: “My Year on Match.com.” In case you don’t know about Match.com, don’t feel bad. At that time, I didn’t either. I’m not certain that I had even heard about it. After all, I was happily partnered and had no desire to know about online dating apps. But I like Lamott a lot and decided to read the essay to find out whether she succeeded in spicing up her life with a studmuffin that she picked up on a dating app.

As I expected, Lamott was as candid, witty, reflective, and self-deprecating as I had always found her to be. Indeed, her essay builds upon her experiences using an online dating app, but she takes it up a notch by exploring themes of self-discovery, resilience, and the importance of authenticity in relationships. It’s a well-structured essay as well as an entertaining read, so I started using it in my Creative Writing classes. It seemed to me that my students couldn’t do better than to imitate Lamott’s memoir style of writing.

Fast forward nearly a decade, and I found myself imitating Lamott, too, in a roundabout way. My partner had died at the start of 2021, and two years or so into my grieving, I started thinking that maybe I should try dating once again. Why not? Doing so would in no way diminish the special relationship that Allen and I had for 20 years. Doing so would in no way diminish the love that we shared and the love that I still feel. Irreplaceable is just that: irreplaceable.

At the same time, like all human beings, I crave companionship and connection, someone with whom I can share experiences, conversations, and life’s moments. Dating might do just that. Equally important, it would be great to have someone who understands, accepts, and offers a sense of emotional security. Dating might do just that. And let’s not forget about being able to engage in shared interests and activities, which can bring joy, excitement, vibrancy, and fulfillment to daily life. Gardening. Cooking. Hiking. Embracing. Kissing. Snuggling. Dating might do just that.

Those notions aren’t new ones for me. If you follow my blog regularly–and I am confident that you do–you will recall that I’ve written about this dating thingy already in my “Dating after Twenty-Three.” Obviously, there’s no way–there’s just no way–that I could have written a post as silly as that one without giving some serious thought to the prospect of getting back out there into the dating scene. You bet. I had.

Those ponderings were fueled, in part, by Lamott’s essay. After all, she and I have lots in common. We’re both writers. (All right, fine. I’m not a New York Times best-selling author, yet.) She’s single. I’m single. She’s looking for a man. I’m looking for a man. She wrote about her online dating experience, and here I am writing about mine. Her essay appeared in Salon. Well, mine is appearing here in my blog. Who knows. With luck, it might get picked up by The Advocate or Out Magazine or even Queerty. Simply put, I figured that if Lamott could bring dating apps into my world, so too could I bring them into your world.

However, I confess. Thinking about joining a dating app frightened the hell out of me. It was frightening for Lamott, too:

“I’d done so many scary things in my life, but this might be the scariest. At the age of 58, I joined a dating site.”

That sentence caused me to ghost Lamott for a while. I was downright nasty:

“Stop whining, Anne! You’re a SWF ISO SWM. So what if you’re 58? You can look ahead and behind and find some good stuffds.

“Try being a 76-year-old GWM ISO GWM in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.

“Then and only then can you talk about scary.”

All right. I realize that maybe I need to pause here and explain some of those initialisms that I just tossed out. They might be as new to you as they were to me before I tried this online dating thingy.

● SWF ISO SWM stands for Single White Female in Search of Single White Male.

● GWM ISO GWM stands for Gay White Male in Search of Gay White Male.

And, please, please, please, let me explain one more initialism for you in case life makes you take up with a dating app. RN does not stand for Registered Nurse as I, in my naïveté, believed. It stands for Right Now. I will say no more. But I will advise you to be cautious of that initialism unless, of course, you’re looking for RN.

Then, of course, there’s another initialism I should warn you about in case you decide you’re going to imitate me. Dating is fine and dandy, but what I’m really looking for is a date that might become a serious and meaningful relationship that might lead to a Long-Term Relationship. Toward that end and with the intent to be fully candid and transparent, I included LTR in my profile. Bad move. I discovered that in many circles, LTR stands for Leather. Now I know. Now they know. I limit mine to my shoes, my belt, and my book bag. My profile now reads: “ISO meaningful dates leading to possible Long-Term Relationship.”

Finding out the deeper meaning of LTR and RN might well be my most frightening discovery in my online dating experience. I mean, after all, I fell for it. At my age, who wouldn’t look more than once at a man who’s a registered nurse. Well, he wasn’t, and I’m still lookin’.

Notwithstanding near-encounters of the casual, leather kind, I’ve been imitating Lamott for nearly a year, and I certainly have a thing or three to share, and I’ll do so right here, right now. So, let’s see. How shall I begin to spit out all the butt-ends of my dating ways? It’s simple. I’ll begin at the beginning when I, armed with nothing but a smartphone, unbelievable naïveté that borders on stupidity, and a questionable sense of humor, tackled a virtual world of dating sites, each boasting to be the ultimate game-changer. Check out their come-ons:

● Love: Only a Click Away. (This might have been where I was introduced to RN.)

● Start Your Love Story Today. (Sadly, everybody out there seems to have a love story. Most are tragedies.)

● There’s much more fun after 50. (Says who? Take me to your leader. RN.)

● A shared interest is just the beginning. (Yep. I’m pretty sure this is where I found LTR. Not shared. Not interested. Next.)

● This is the year to focus on yourself, boost confidence, and attract genuine connections! (Sure. 899 views and 12 likes. What a confidence booster. Those numbers really pump me up.)

● It’s never too late to experience the beauty of togetherness. Join today and find that special someone who will make “together” your favorite place to always be. (Sweet. Sure. Gimme time to buy some Velcro.)

● Don’t waste more time on casual flings. See who our experts match you with, for free. Take our free compatibility quiz today!

I learned fast that the assessments tend to be pretty reliable. I learned even faster that “free” isn’t. What’s the point of belonging to a dating app if I can’t see profile photos and can’t message? If you want to see and if you want to say, get ready to pay. Like I said, “free” isn’t. Everything comes with a price, including online dating.

Then, I learned that online dating isn’t as secure as I expected. Scammers sneak under the radar. Check out this one.

“Hey. I just met my new boyfriend. Otherwise, I’d like to connect with you. But I showed your profile to a friend who likes you a lot and lives near you.  Here’s his email: IHopeYouFallforThis.net.”

What else? Despite the sophisticated assessments and matching algorithms, all of my matches around my own age look like frogs! As for the ones that make my heart pitter-patter, most are in California or New York City. But guess what? Those potential matches are usually way younger than my age preference. I’m not interested in guys under 45. Forty-five is calculated based on a scientifically established compatibility formula: half my age plus 7. Anyway, some of those guys nearly threw me into AFib because sometimes they threw me a wink or a smile. But here’s the thing. Just as soon as I revived myself with smelling salts and mustered up the courage to return a smile, they had disappeared. Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve decided to use my own formula for calculating the lower compatibility age for my dates. I’m thinking along the lines of half my age + half my age + “guaranteed annuity.”

Don’t get me wrong. I have had some near successes. I’m thinking about the match who was a year older than I, had a chiseled face, and checked off all the right boxes in all the right places. He kept me awake, dreaming about endless possibilities until I dozed off with endless possibilities chasing me in my sleep. I “liked” all of his attributes. He “liked” all of mine, too. We were a perfect mutual admiration society. What did I do the next morning? What did I do? I logged back on to suggest a real-time date. And what did I discover? What did I discover? He had deleted his profile. Next.

Not to despair, though. One match remains, and one is all that it takes. Plus, he’s not a frog. Actually, he’s damned handsome and super butch. More, our compatibility scores are off the charts. I look and look and look. Yep. He seems perfect. But he’s three hours away, and he seems as cautious as I. Nonetheless, we’ve exchanged a smile or two, a “like” or two, and a message or two. Right now, I’m waiting to see whether he responds to my message that I sent him this morning inviting him to lunch. Rest assured, I have a strategy for how we can meet in the middle for a grand lunch, assuming that he answers and that his profile has not disappeared when I attempt to reply.

While I wait, hoping for the courtesy of his reply, if I were asked to rate my online dating experience so far, I would give it a big fat zero. Dating experience? When? Where? Oh, to be sure. I’ve had a few entertaining Vibe Checks via secure video. By mutual agreement, they did not lead to dates. Through one, however, I now have a newfound daily messaging buddy.

Believe it or not, I’ve actually had some fun. Right now, for example, Unmatched.com seems to be recycling all the profiles. I look. I scream:

“Seen them all! Seen them all already.”

Does it matter if I “liked” him in the past? Maybe his memory isn’t as good as mine. Maybe this time around, he’ll “like” me back. Hope springs eternal.

Also, I’ve learned a lot. I mean, really. I have. I just need to stop liking every Tom, Dick, and Harry coming down the app. Also, I think that I would much rather be in a bar seeing the eye-candy in person and in action. But, hey, I would probably end up with one drink too many and find myself at home with one of the frogs that I’ve managed to avoid successfully online.

But you know what else? Through all the ups and downs, the frogs and fleeting connections, I’ve discovered a treasure trove of emotions that transcend the swipe of a screen. Whether it’s the warmth of a genuine conversation, the laughter sounded over shared interests, or the spark ignited by a thoughtful message, each interaction reminds me of the beauty that surrounds me.

As I reflect on my journey through online dating, I’m reminded of the longing for companionship, connection, and shared experiences that initially spurred me into this adventure. Yet, amidst this pursuit, I realize the importance of staying true to myself. I know now more than ever that I’ve never been one to imitate. I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum, and that’s a rhythm I intend to continue, joyfully chanting my blessings. My entire life has been filled with love, joy, and contentment. Until Mr. Right arrives, I revel in my autonomy, finding joy in my passions and savoring life’s pleasures independently. This journey has taught me the beauty of self-discovery and embracing life’s twists with open arms.

Cheers to adventure! Cheers to never losing sight of the magic, even on Unmatched.com.