Lesbian Dating 101

Ó January 2003 C.M. Ralph

 

Obviously, I haven’t written anything worth posting here for quite a while. The years rolled by – I got tangled-up in the business of living life and spent less time observing and reporting it.

But I’m back now – I can tell you it’s been quite an adventure … sometimes a misadventure … sometimes a Mrs. Adventure, and sometimes a near-miss adventure.

What have I been up to?

Among other things: Dating.

12 years of dating, based on my calculations (my LTR ended in 1991)

Yep – 12, count’em – 12 long years filled with every kind of possible lesbian dating situation one can imagine. Personal ad dating, Internet ad dating, lesbian chat room dating, local lesbian dating, phone ad dating, blind dates. Dates set-up by my friends, dates that lasted 20 minutes, dates that lasted 3 days, dates with women from every age, color, creed, ethnic background, financial status, country, and planet imaginable.

Translated into rap: "Yo peeps, I have dated me some honeys and I be straight up tripp’in."

Thinking about this prompted me to look back over the years and do that "Ex-Files" thing that lesbian’s do. You know – we inventory ALL our ex’s and review the reasons why THEY were to blame for everything that ever went wrong between us. We do this so that we can be prepared to deliver our rationalized litany of love’s disasters to the newest next-ex we meet. This is by no means a purely lesbian trait either. One of my best friends happens to be a heterosexual (she’s also an Irish-Japanese American Divorcee- let’s get ALL the labels out now) She tells me that this happens between men and women too. Not just over the course of a relationship, mind you, but on the first date! My friend dubbed this "Over Sharing." As she describes it: It’s a second cousin to "T.M.I.".

Granted, some of us have a few funny stories to tell – but on the FIRST DATE?

As for me, I really suck at dating. I get nervous and I talk too much or trip over my own feet. I tell bad jokes and make terrible puns (If puns are outlawed only outlaws will have puns), my sense of humor can at times be quite adolescent and insensitive, directly correlating to how nervous I am in the moment. The News depresses me so I’m not usually up on current events - other than to satirize them, I don’t do politics, good luck having an adult conversation with me. No, I’ll be the one making the salt and pepper shakers talk to one another using funny little voices – an old stand-by I call, "Condiment Puppeteering." You get the picture? Basically, I’m a dating wreck.

So why continue? Good question.

Actually, I haven’t dated anyone in about a year now. After 4 consecutive horrendous blind dates last year, I decided to retire my romantic ideals in lieu of something more realistic – a life alone. I’m lucky enough to have just the right balance of friends, work, and fun things to do. So much so that I really haven’t missed dating – in fact, it has been a relief of sorts. Helping this along, of course, is that I am now of the age when the ‘biological imperative’ to meet and mate no longer holds my hormones hostage.

But I did notice something missing.

The ‘Secret Language.’

I think we all know what the ‘Secret Language’ is but nobody ever talks about it – well that’s what makes it a secret, isn’t it?

Fundamentally, the Secret Language happens between two people when all they need to do is look at one another to know something. There are no words or gestures involved – they just know. They both know that they know and they further know that no one else around them knows it but them.

There is something very intimate and powerful about this exchange. It is as if you and the other person solely own that very moment in time – it is yours to do with as you choose – everyone and everything else falls away and it’s just the two of you sharing that moment.

When this happens between total strangers it’s even more powerful, I think, because it’s unexpected. This recently happened to me, which got me to thinking about this whole dating and relationship thing. After mulling it over, I now realize that this is the only thing I miss about being in an intimate relationship with another human being.

So, will I date again? Right now, it seems doubtful. I’m standing on the edge of 47 looking at 48 and, not meaning to boast, my life is damn near perfect in all areas. A blend and balance of everything I ever pictured it could be. For the first time I am experiencing mastery over my own life. As for the Secret Language, I think one of the benefits to aging is to wake up one morning and have the realization that you are on a first name basis with the rest of the world. Suddenly, that desire to commune on a deeper level with one other turns into a desire to commune on a deeper level with all others.

As I write this, Spring is fast upon us. I won’t lie to you – I still fantasize from time to time about meeting my dream date. She’ll have an old fashioned name like Maggie or Kate, and she’ll be gentle and nurturing and love me in spite of myself. We’ll spend warm hours in the Winter cuddling with our cats and watching movies or reading books. In the Summer we’ll take long walks with our dogs. In the Fall we’ll rake leaves in the yard and drink herbal teas that we grew ourselves in the garden. Each Spring we’ll fall in love all over again. After making love there will be long pillow talks about everything imaginable. There will also be silence to span and respect the space that each of us needs. For each other we will be a soft place to land in a weary world, an inspiration to become better versions of ourselves, and each other’s biggest fan and cheerleader. Of course we will fluently speak the Secret Language. So much for fantasy.

I don’t have much advice on this topic. What I’ve learned over these past 12 years is that I won’t meet her in a lesbian chat room or a bar. She will have to become my friend first – because I’ve learned that intimate relationships are fragile by nature and require strong foundations.

Lastly, the most important thing I’ve learned is that if I never meet her I’ll be just fine.