Soon after I was at a friend’s birthday party. As usual, I was the only single person there and surrounded by my dearest married friends.

I surveyed the happy couples: Bill & Nancy: he never stopped telling dirty jokes and she was more than open about their trouble in the bedroom; Tim & Shelly: he had gained 70 pounds since they’d gotten married and she was gone most of the time pursuing her most recent fitness obsession: pickle-ball. John & Jenny: they were high school sweethearts and joined at the hip. Every sentence they used started with “we” such “we only drink Malbec” or “(gasp) We can’t eat that, we are on the Keto diet” or “we have a 56 day streak and a 98% success rating on wordle!”

These happily married people were some of my best friends and I loved them all very much. . . but did they ‘love’ themselves any more than I did? I didn’t think so. . .Why was I being punished for not loving myself enough? This was bullshit. All I wanted was a companion. Wasn’t this a perfectly reasonable concept for any human whether they were self-lovers or NOT???

I drove home aching with the desire to find a suitable boyfriend. As I put my kids to bed, I felt like I was going through the motions instead of enjoying our treasured bedtime routine. I hated this feeling since I knew they’d be going back to their father’s soon. This made me feel angry at myself for not making the most of my time with the kids.

I decided that in order to be the best mother I could be, I needed to find a man. But Lisa was right, I did fall in love too easily. I needed to find some kind of buffer so I wouldn’t jump on the first guy that came my way.

I was pondering this dilemma as I scrolled my FB wall, wincing at the happiness and seeming fulfillment and gratitude portrayed in my married friend’s posts. Suddenly an ad for Match.com flashed accusingly at me on the page – I slammed the laptop closed. How DID these algorithms get into my head?

My old-fashioned attitude was cringing at the prospect of online dating. . .yet some couples I knew had great success with it. Maybe Online dating could provide the filter I was looking for? In a moment of extreme terror and reckless abandon I popped open the laptop and signed up for Match.com.

I was quickly drawn into a world filled with all kinds of men – bus drivers, lawyers, sailboat racers, pipeline builders, you name it!

I had never received so much male attention in my life and it was fabulous! What surprised me the most was how normal it all seemed. Everybody’s cards were on the same table and clearly wanting to meet someone. Plus everyone agreed that there was filtering to be done once they appeared.

. . . and they did appear. It was a whirlwind of addictively intense attractions and flirtations. As I sifted through their profiles, I started to meet them in person:

Guy number 1 seemed promising until we met and he wouldn’t give me his last name. ‘You never can tell’ he said. However, his first name “Aristotle” was so unique I quickly found him online and discovered he was married with 3 children. . .

Guy number 2 seemed promising until he mentioned “there’s something I have to tell you. So my ex-girlfriend was a real bitch and pulled a restraining order on me. . . AND I was arrested last month for breaking it and spent a night in jail. . . now I’m going to court next week and may have to serve time – but I didn’t DO anything!”. . .

Guy number 3 seemed promising until he sent me a photo during a flirtatious round of texting. AT first glance, it reminded me of a vintage close up of a sea monkey. . . to my shock and astonishment, it was a large, erect penis. A dick pic! And everything around that big Dick was as bald as a billiard ball!

5 months and 13 guys later: I had met 3 restraining orders, 4 still marrieds, 5 unsolicited dick pics, and a number of guys with a preference for ’50 shades of grey’ if you know what I mean. I was ready to throw in the towel.

“Do you know what your problem is?” Lisa proclaimed, “You are too picky! You always want to put the cart before the horse. Give these guys a chance!”