I went to a dance last weekend, hoping it would be better than the last one I went to (seven and a half years ago) where I made out with some guy in his car the whole time. Well, I didn’t have a NCMO last weekend, but the dance was basically the same. Except for the live band. That was pretty cool. Oh, and it would have helped to know before the fact that the dance itself was casual. Sheesh.
At these dances, there is always a group of heavier-set girls standing in the corner. Yeah, I fall into the category, but avoid the group like the plague. Anyway, there is always another group of girls dancing together—since no guys know how cool they really are, right? The group of guys almost moshing in the middle of the floor—but not quite, since it’s against the ‘rules.’ The couples making out on the dance floor. The guys and girls who are all better than everyone else. And there is always, always, always, at least one guy who ballroom dances to every song. This guy? He will always, always, always ask me to dance. Even though I’ve never met him before. Don’t get me wrong. Ballroom is fun. And I like to swing and dance country, too, but again, I haven’t danced in seven years. I have almost forgotten how—and I don’t want to ballroom every song.
I recently tried attending a singles ward temple night, too. About the time I noticed the fourth or fifth wedding ring, I realized that I must have gotten the time wrong. Fortunately, they have at least one every week here. I might try it again.
Part of the reason I’m trying out these singles activities is because I recently moved. I have tons of friends from my old ward—all married with children, though some have single brothers/cousins/nephews they think about setting me up with. I’ve not yet been on a blind date. Ever. It’s probably time to start thinking about going on one, I suppose, since I’m not meeting anyone any other way.
My new ward has very few people my age. It does have four groups of single guys: under 18, about to go on a mission, currently serving a mission, or over 80. The only single girls in the ward are inactive—except the one who is waiting for a missionary. He leaves to the MTC next week.
I need some new friends in my new area, some that I actually fit in with. The complication I have with going to a singles ward is that I have a 3-year-old who needs a nursery on Sunday. Of course, there are very few people in the family ward with enough energy to cope with 3-year-olds, so guess what? The nursery leaders are the children’s parents. Yeah. I’m in the nursery. I love my daughter, but I’m sure you can figure out how I feel about this calling. I’m thinking that the Lord is sending me some pretty big clues to go to a singles branch.
Honestly, I haven’t been on a date since I met my ex-husband. That probably says way too much about our courtship, right? The last time I was dating, I was inactive and led a life closer to Jeff Foxworthy’s description of single life. LDS dating is (obviously) on the opposite end of the spectrum.
It’s been seven years. I don’t know what to say to guys, I don’t have a clue how to flirt anymore (and even if I did, I would probably say something entirely inappropriate!), and I am having a hard time trusting any guys as a result of my marriage. I’m coming up on the third anniversary of the day I left my husband (YAY!), and have yet to meet someone in real life that I’d like to get to know better. See, I figured out something over the last three years. The Lord loves me, wants me to find someone who will take me to the temple and will always be there for me. I didn’t know that before. And I'm not settling for anything less than temple marriage this time.
So, the guys I’ve met since leaving my husband are not “temple ready.” For example, there was this one guy hitting on me while I was in court testifying against my ex’s latest DUI. The guy was facing charges for selling alcohol and cigarettes to minors. Oooo, and there’s the cute server at a restaurant I frequent. Oh, wait. He is gay, but flirts madly with the girls for better tips. Um, and the chain smoker across the street. And the group of movers that did our most recent move. There was one really cute one—wouldn’t have minded getting to know him better, but again, smokes and drinks.
I say “in real life” because I do belong to an LDS singles website. Singlesaints. Sometimes it is better than others. And there’s usually something funny going on. I’ve got several friends there, but like I say, none are in real life. Or local. There have been several interesting guys I’ve “met” there, though.
One from Venezuela. I just felt like we were speaking two different languages.
Oh, wait. We were.
And there’s the about to be a missionary who sort of asked me to wait for him. He’s going to be a doctor, so he’s got what? Eight years of school left? Oh, goodie. We could get married when I’m what? 40?
There’s one who doesn’t know what he wants from life. Or from a woman. Too bad. He’s the nicest and funniest one I’ve “met.”
Then there’s the “I think we met in the pre-existence” folks, the “I want you to have my children” types, and the “We’re both single. We should just get married and get it over with” people. Yikes.
I guess I’ll try meeting men and dating the real-life LDS way: dances, dances, dances, temple nights, hay rides, church, and break your fasts, possibly the occasional blind date. Mental note: Bring green Jello to the next potluck. I’ll blend right in.
c2002esthershepherd
