Desperately seeking nothing

The subject of online dating came up in conversation recently, and as most people know, I was a willing participant of the online dating world for a small stretch of time. But I learned, after MUCH trial and error, that what is sought through such activities can never really be found that way.

I know there are exceptions to every rule, and I know two. But to be honest, I don’t recall that either of the success stories I know actually met through online personals. It was more chance encounters, or introductions via an electronic medium. When I refer to online dating, I refer specifically to the practice of placing and responding to personal ads online. Sites such as eHarmony, Match.Com, OKCupid all promise to find you the love of your life. Despite canceling my accounts ages ago, my inbox is still flooded with reminders from Match.Com that Mr. Wonderful is waiting for me in Galveston – all I need to do is log on.

It makes me wonder, though. Is all this online dating really leading to happy, healthy relationships? Sure, 25 percent of couples met online. But are those 25 percent still happily together? And are they really each other’s soul mates?

I hate the phrase “my other half.” It always implies I’m missing a half. One of my favorite books has always been Shel Silverstein’s The Missing Piece Meets the Big O. If you’re not familiar with it, Google it and you can find an animated version to get the message across. The Missing Piece keeps searching and searching for the bigger piece from which it is missing. It goes through an entire series of bigger pieces wanting it to change to fit, to be flashy, to be something other than the simple missing piece it is. Until it finds the Big O, who explains to the piece it is not missing anything, but if the piece would like to roll along with it, that would be fine, too.

I’m not looking for any missing piece. I’m that Big O, open for someone to roll alongside me in life, but certainly not looking for or needing that person. So if no one happens to come along, no one happens to come along. Life is fine and complete; I have no missing piece.a

I read through the profiles online from time to time. It reminds me that what I’m looking for isn’t something to be looked for at all. It’s just something to be open to in case it happens. Online dating treats dating like an interview process. That would be fine if I was looking to fill the job of boyfriend or husband. But those aren’t jobs to be filled. I’m not interviewing anyone.

Dating should be the fun, spontaneous convergence of two lives. It’s not an orchestrated search for a specific set of characteristics and pre-defined ideas of a perfect mate.

I was accused of not being open and welcoming. It’s not the first time someone has accused me of this. The other one who has also said I needed to change my packaging and marketing of myself, again, treating dating like a product line to be peddled to the highest bidder.

I am not lost, nor do I need to be found. I am not a lump of coal awaiting a gem caller to make me a diamond. (Yes, that was from someone’s online profile.)

I am who I am, and if and when the right life converges with mine, we’ll roll along together. Our paths could cross through mutual friends, through shared activities, or be as random as a chance encounter at a salad bar. And should our paths never cross, I at least know I can roll alone, without any pieces missing.