Her online handle was “Blonde Biohazard.”
Her Perfect Match: “Just looking for someone who isn’t Jack the Ripper, has a pulse and can look at life in a humorous way. Must like music, have two brain cells to rub together and not live in Timbuktu. Aside from that everything is negotiable.”
Her Ideal Date: “Something casual — with a trapdoor for extraction if needed.”
That’s my favorite dating profile so far, and I’ve read a million of ’em while perusing various online dating sites since I got back in the game.
Erich Bridges
I didn’t ask “Blonde Biohazard” for a date. She lives too far away. Long-distance relationships usually don’t work, which I’ve learned while driving all over the Mid-Atlantic. But I complimented her on her cleverness and originality. Sounds like she’s gained some wisdom the hard way in her search for a guy who isn’t a complete moron — or worse.
Horror stories
I’ve heard lots of horror stories about other men from women I’ve met online. Guys who post creepy profile pictures in various states of undress or wearing camo gear and holding high-powered weapons. Guys who start asking for sex before the first date. Guys who apparently consider bathing optional.
Apart from moral and hygienic considerations, what kind of dumb do you have to be to think this approach would attract women?
I’m not on Tinder or other “hookup” sites, by the way. I’m talking about vanilla dating portals intended for folks looking for friendship, LTRs (Long Term Relationships) or marriage. Some of them are geared toward people 50 and older. But it’s a pretty wild scene out there, even if you’re a Christian seeking another Christian.
Why am I dating, something I haven’t done since the first Reagan administration, in my semi-doddering 60s? Short version: God blessed me with a wonderful, 33-year marriage to the sweetest woman in the world. We were looking forward to a new stage of life with the kids grown and on their own. But my wife died of cancer in early 2017. I’ve been wandering in the wilderness, more or less, ever since.
“It’s a pretty wild scene out there, even if you’re a Christian seeking another Christian.”
I survived the first two years or so of grief and all it entails. Then I got tired of being alone most of the time. Grief never goes away completely, nor should it, and it returns in waves without warning. But you learn how to deal with it.
Loneliness is something else.
As Frank, one of my widower buddies, told me, “I know how to live alone, but I don’t like it.” Amen to that. I decided to try dating — for companionship if nothing else.
The way it’s done
Frank and my other widower mentors advised me to check out some online dating sites. “That’s the way it’s done these days,” they said. I guess they’re right. There sure don’t seem to be many church-based singles groups anymore, despite the exponential growth in the number of adult singles of all ages. Maybe online connections killed in-person singles groups. Beats me.
I’ve been on dating sites for more than two years now, looking for love or at least something better than hermit status. A lot of online profiles sound nearly the same — “love long walks on the beach,” “love kayaking,” etc. (When did kayaking become a thing? I prefer dinner and a movie to drowning upside down in the river.)
“I’ve been on dating sites for more than two years now, looking for love or at least something better than hermit status.”
Many women insist they want “no drama” in a relationship, which I take to mean anger issues, emotional problems, psychosis, addictions and so forth. Me neither.
Some say they don’t want anyone lugging “baggage” from past relationships. Sorry, honey, but just about everyone has baggage at my stage of life, whether it’s loss, divorce, abuse, unfaithfulness or whatever. If you can’t deal with it, don’t date.
Search criteria
Everyone has their own “search criteria,” stated or unstated, as they surf profiles and make connections. The four things I look for are visual/physical attraction (I’m still a guy), reasonable intelligence, spiritual commitment and that mysterious thing called “spark.”
Visual attraction is the obvious first stop, because nobody, male or female, looks at dating profiles without photos. The usual questions about photos include: Are they recent? Do they honestly show how the person looks? If he or she has gained 200 pounds — or shriveled up — since the photos were taken, they shouldn’t misrepresent themselves. Sorry if that’s lookism, but there it is.
Regarding intelligence, can they hold their own in a conversation involving more than one or two subjects? Do they care about what’s going on beyond their own little world? When it comes to spirituality, checking off “spiritual” or even “Christian” on a dating profile can mean anything from practicing squishy mindfulness to being a hardline fundamentalist. This area calls for sensitive, respectful conversation.
“Regarding intelligence, can they hold their own in a conversation involving more than one or two subjects?”
A “spark” cannot be clearly defined. It’s that special connection that makes your eyes light up and your toes tingle. It’s either there or it isn’t. And it’s essential, even as far down the line as I am. I’m not dead yet.
Long term relationship?
I’ve lost count of the number of women I’ve met for coffee, the usual choice for a first encounter. Many of these initial meetings have progressed to first, second, even third dates. If you make it past the third date, you might have something going. That rarely happens, at least for me. Usually there’s no real spark. Or the spark flies one way but not the other.
If the connection goes past Date Number Three, I’m interested — and so is she if she’s still saying yes. That’s when it gets tricky. Is this potentially an LTR? If so, could it mean eventual marriage? I have yet to reach that serious a stage.
I was ready to commit myself to a particular woman last year, but she decided she wasn’t ready and broke it off. That one hurt. Still does. Sometimes you pay the price for damage done by other men in past relationships.
I’ve met some truly wonderful women so far, and several truly strange ones, and just about every type in between. I’ve been had and I’ve been a cad. I’ve been “ghosted” — that’s when someone you thought was interested suddenly cuts off all communication. I’ve ended relationships via text message and had them ended with me the same way.
Dating is no joke, my friend, especially in the age of COVID, social isolation and fragmentation. But I’m still searching for the woman God has for me, if she exists.
Like my friend Frank says, I’ve learned how to live alone. But I don’t like it.
Erich Bridges, a Baptist journalist for more than 40 years, retired in 2016 as global correspondent for the Southern Baptist Convention’s International Mission Board. He lives in Richmond, Va.
Related articles:
Reclaiming joy in widowhood: a conversation with author Ella Prichard
What widowers wonder at night | Opinion by Erich Bridges