Every time an eHarmony or Match.com ad comes on TV while I’m in mixed company, I can almost feel everyone’s eyes on me. To make sure I’m watching, of course. Someone might even ask if I’d tried that website yet.
If I have control of the remote, I like to change the channel because, well, I’m done with online dating. And I can tell you it was a huge relief to delete my online profile and just stop feeling like a crazy person.
I’ve always just been… kinda average-looking, really. And I don’t mean that in a negative way. Average is a good thing. But I never gave much thought to whether I was beautiful or not until I tried online dating.
In high school there were a couple of guys who liked me and then in college my dating life took off like a rocket. Not that I based my level of attractiveness on whether or not guys paid attention to me, mind you. That wasn’t even on my radar because the nice thing about dating at college(in my experience, at least) is that all the high school pressure to look like Alicia Silverstone from Clueless was gone. We all wore jeans and sweatshirts with very little makeup unless it was a special occasion and then the “cleaned-up” version was a pleasant surprise.
In my mid-twenties I was ready to give online dating a try. The dating scene after college had dried up and I figured it was time to think about settling down. As I’ve probably mentioned before, however, I do not photograph well. For some reason pictures just never seem to look quite like me. I have no idea why. This is why I enlisted a team of my most brutally honest family members to choose the photos I would use on my profile.
As many of you may know, there are a few dating websites that want to approve photos before they post. Well, before the pics went live I had quite a bit of interest and a lot of requests for photos. After the photos posted, however, the matches dropped like flies way too quickly. This was a pattern I experienced more than once with one guy even admitting he preferred girls who looked like Audrey Hepburn (extremely thin) as the reason he wouldn’t talk to me. (I almost wish I’d told him I prefer men who look like Derek Jeter.)
Eventually, I came to the conclusion that the only way to survive with my ego (or what was left of it) in tact, I needed to avoid the whole online dating thing. So, I deleted my profile and never looked back. I like myself so much better for it, too.
And when my married friends ask me if I’d tried a certain website yet I say: “No, have you?” so they laugh and change the subject.