Posted in Dating


So my Tinder life has been interesting. In fact, I’ve had more compliments in the not quite two months since I signed up on Tinder than I have in all of my grown up life. Enough so that I am really starting to believe I am pretty.

That’s a hard sell, let me tell you. Growing up, I always felt like I wasn’t pretty. Not that I was ugly, although as the years went on and the more people try to use me for purely sexual means instead of romantic ones I had begun to believe myself to be ugly, but when I was younger, I just thought I was just not someone that people think of as pretty. 


I have never been skinny, not since I was a very little girl.

I grew up in a redneck town where most people were quite racist, and I didn’t fit into a category so I was pretty much not liked by any group.

I didn’t stick to one social group, but preferred to flit and flutter between them, meaning I couldn’t pair up like often happens in movies and TV.

I don’t get subtlety in dating, which means it’s possible that I missed many little hints at flirting (my mother pointed out while she was here a while back that the guy at the pizza place was flirting with me and I didn’t catch it… so this is actually a plausible possibility).

I think I went on one date all throughout high school, and the maybe four guys that I would have really been interested in dating either thought of me only as a friend, or were pretty vocal about telling me how they wouldn’t ever even consider such a thing. In one case he did both.


College didn’t do me any favors in that regards either. The few guys I was interested in either wanted just sex from me or didn’t want to have anything to do with me romantically. There was one in particular that I had a similar obsession with him as I do now with the Boy… the difference being that he and I never dated, while the Boy and I, of course, did.

On that front, perhaps that is the reason for my obsession with the Boy. Maybe I need to help him like I helped that other guy, the one from college. As soon as I helped him to overcome his feelings of worthlessness, I no longer wanted anything to do with him. Unfortunately, all of my attempts to show the Boy that he is not worthless, but rather he makes me feel worthless because he rejects all of my attempts to show him how worthy he is, makes him feel worthless…

I don’t know how to fix that. The ways I think we could fix it, he doesn’t particularly seem to agree with and then I feel like I have to prove my point. We are both too stubborn. It’s hopeless…

I should give up.

By Yann X on Deviant Art

But he’s important to me. And he wants to be my friend. And so I hang on in the hopes that we’ll fix it somehow.

Besides, he does give good compliments when I can wrench them from him. He is the only man who’s ever been able to make me not think of exotic as a negative, even though he didn’t understand that when I would bring it up before it was solely because I considered it a negative… And he does confirm that I am sexy when I get down on myself. Again, it takes some coercing to get him to say it, but it’s there. And I think he means it.

So compliments. Yeah. They’re important. And Tinder has brought me a lot of them. It’s been good for my ego.

Prior to Tinder, the few compliments I’ve received have almost exclusively happened while someone had already talked me into getting naked or desperately trying to get me that way, so being told I’m pretty, I equate with a pickup line: it’s a lie men tell to get into my pants. On Tinder, it’s probably still just a lie men tell to get into my pants, but since there are plenty of other options out there, the frequency with which that line is used, I’m starting to think maybe it’s not just a lie anymore.

In that regard, Tinder has been very good for me.

Plus it has given me something to do with my time. I’ve had several really interesting conversations. The Professor (the one we think has no skills) was a fun one to try to talk to. Though, I have no doubt that he doesn’t have the necessary skills to be worth my time. He informed me, after several attempts on my part to initiate “intellectual stimulation” (read “verbal foreplay” and in some case perhaps a little “sexting”), that he wanted to know when and where we could meet because he could use a good servicing.


Yeah, let’s just back away not so slowly and delete him from the list.

Why is this problematic? Because for one thing, he’s not a car and I’m not a mechanic. For another, if your primary objective is to get a girl off so hard she can’t walk, you shouldn’t be worrying about getting serviced. His priorities are all out of whack!

So yep, he’s gone.

And almost as if on cue, another equally as ditzy man has come to take his place.

I took my height off of my profile, and BAM! We’re back to matching left and right. Problem is, they don’t all start the conversation, and if I start it, I don’t just start with “Hi.” That’s not conversation inducing. I start with a question. As if I was jumping right into a conversation. Only one has taken me up on that conversation, and he’s gorgeous! So we’ll see if it goes anywhere.

But the one who is equally as obnoxious as the Professor is a music director of a high school. Close to me, so that’s a plus. And he’s a full three inches shorter than me… before heels, so that’s a problem.


This is why I put the height thing on there in the first place! But it was a turn off, and now I know why: there’s a bunch of short men in Houston it seems.

I was trying not to be shallow, so I continued the conversation, and he began to explain to me how his height might be a problem for sex. Again, let’s back that up for a second… We didn’t discuss that being what this was. Why would he assume that’s what this was? Because we’re on Tinder?

I can’t believe I’m the only person on Tinder NOT looking for an immediate hookup. For one thing, a lot of the male profiles I see say specifically NOT looking for a hookup!

But ok, let’s play for a minute, see if he can convince me this is a good idea. He’s already told me that height is an issue, so he’s already starting out on the low end. Then he tells me, because I asked what he was actually looking for, that he’s looking for lots of sex with just me.

And he asks me if I have lots of partners because I’m on Tinder.

First of all, that’s just rude to ask.

Second of all, you just met me. We just started talking. You don’t even know if we’re compatible or what I like. Speaking of, he asked about BDSM and then proceeded to say he might need to slap me around a little to get me there… Nope, nope, nope.


Thirdly, I’m dating, like actually dating, multiple dates, with multiple people and multiple possibilities, for the first real time in my life.

High school, as we’ve discussed, was a bit of a let down in the date department. College was basically like Tinder before Tinder, only with two engagements to crazy people that kind of soured me on the whole thing for a while. Since I’ve turned 21, I’ve had a handful of attempted relationships, with the Boy being the longest lasting ever, and we know how unhealthy that situation has been. I went four years, four whole years, without a single date because I was in an area more redneck than my hometown and no one would even give me the time of day!

So, no, I’m not going to delete my Tinder cue for a short band director who hasn’t convinced me that he’s worth my time at all yet.

And then, as part of “intellectual stimulation,” he asked if he would have to use a condom because he’d “already gotten one girl pregnant this year.”


She would “edge” him, he said, and there was an accident, apparently.

“Edging,” boys and girls, is apparently going until the man thinks he’s about to climax and then switching positions in order to prolong the lovemaking.

At this point I haven’t deleted him because I couldn’t make this stuff up and it’s too good a story to not hear!

Although, I think he’s probably gone. I told him I thought porn was ruining sex because it used to be rare to find a man who could go for hours, and now they all seem to be able to do that, because of the whole “edging” thing. Not to mention slapping and choking seems to be considered sexy and no, it’s not.

He told me he couldn’t go hours… but maybe minutes. But not to worry because he’d “wrap it up” to make sure there wasn’t an accident since he had “potent baby batter” in his… man bits.

Yeah, I think we’re gonna pass on this one.

Besides I have big news.


The Stripper is back! Turns out I didn’t scare him off, and he didn’t just lose interest; he had a major emergency with a close family friend and he emotionally shut down. Now, keep in mind the guy is a salesman, so it’s possible that this is just a story, but he texted out of the blue with an apology and we’re going to dinner on Wednesday, in theory. What he actually said was that we’d “try for” Wednesday, so it’s not 100% done deal.

But still. He’s got the most promise so far, and he didn’t immediately try to jump into bed with me. Of course, neither did Mr. Nice Guy, which is how he got that nickname. I’m still a little sad about that one, but this guy seems a little more stable. Funny since he’s the one who disappeared once already.

We’ll just wait and see how it goes. He has been the most intellectually stimulating so far, and he appreciates a good pair of shoes. And he is a good kisser, and we all know how important that is to me. Here’s hoping it goes well!




High school teacher by day, relationship/romance blogger by night. Help me add author to the list. Vote for my book idea here:

One thought on “Choices

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