Dating While Fat

How to Have a Conversation

Since I started dating again recently, I’ve noticed that a lot of men have no idea how to have a conversation. By “conversation” I mean a basic verbal give and take that is pleasurable to both parties, and that results in the edification of same in pursuit of, well, what it is that we want. It’s as if they either haven’t been in a relationship or friendship of any kind for such a long time, or, they’ve just gotten out of a relationship that has deteriorated into grunts and the occasional, “yes, honey” that they have no clue anymore of how the dance goes.

A few suggestions:

If we’re talking and I say I like baseball, that would be a great time to find out something about me. After all, isn’t a baseball-loving woman a wet dream for you guys out there? Don’t start into your feelings about the A’s and the Giants, and how many games you go to, and then veer off into football and a list of other sports that ends in your only-very-slight interest in badminton. Instead, pause, take a deep breath and ask me a question. Like, “Wow, you like baseball? Why?” You might learn something really enticing about me. You might learn that I actually have wondered about the Zen of baseball, and why it’s such a beautiful game, and how I haven’t been to a game in several years because my friends don’t want to go. Fast forward to end of third date: You say, "Hey, would you like to go to a baseball game this weekend?" I say, "Wow, yes! I haven't been to a game in years." See how lovely that can be?

Don’t ask me what I want to know about you. I will immediately want to say, “Nothing!”

Don’t tell me you’re a “simple guy”. See above. How would I figure out what to ask about you if your answer is always “I’m just a simple, easy-going guy.” To me, that says that you are probably acting like you have no wants and no needs in order to get what you want. In other words, you’re passive-aggressive.

If I ask how you are today, it’s nice after giving your answer, to ask me how I am, too. Like I said, the basics.

Don’t forget stories you’ve already told me. Hearing a story two, or yes it’s happened to me, three times over is unbelievably odd, although it does tell me that you aren’t good at reading body language, because it will be very obvious by then that I’m not interested. Squinty, glazed eyes and furrowed brow = I’ve heard it before.

Finally, remember that while these skills may not get you exactly where you want to be, you will enjoy the dance a lot more, and so will I.

Letting Go

I’ve been dating again, after finally, finally letting go of V. It was a tough thing to do, but I’d been led there by my dreams. One night in early December, a Thursday, I dreamt I had dinner reservations with a friend at “Memories” restaurant for Tuesday at 6:30 P.M. The restaurant was very chic and hip, in San Francisco. The walls were lined with shelves. They displayed an array of funerary urns.

I woke up and emailed the friend about the dream with a what-a-weird-dream tone of keystroke. That weekend I finally confronted V about a female friend he’d been talking about a bit and he told me they were in a romantic relationship. I was devastated. I cried, I yelled, and I asked, “Why?” more times than I’d like to admit here.

By the time Monday rolled around I was coming to realize the calling of that dream. The funerary urns represented the obsessive memories of V that I now had to cremate. By Tuesday morning I realized I had to do this at 6:30 that evening. Miraculously, 5 of my friends were available that night, including the one in the dream! I spent most of the day preparing. I printed out all our emails and then erased them from my hard drive. I gathered all the objects he’d given me, some of which were so special I’d kept them in my medicine bag.

I would have loved to have done a cleansing in the shower, or even in a nearby body of water, but I’d been suffering from a skin condition--a physical manifestation of the obsession, I think-- that prevented me from bathing. The best I could do was wash my hair, and then it hit me—I was washing that man out of my life, and there was a perfect song to go with it!

So, that evening, I read aloud parts of each email, and as I told the story of our relationship, I folded the papers into origami balloons. I took his astrology chart, a major area of obsession for me, and folded that, too. I burned them all in my fireplace. Things that I didn’t feel comfortable burning I put into a box, taped, and stuck on a shelf in my garage.

Then I had one of my friends cut my hair as a symbol of letting go. I was shocked to see the 4 inches she cut off in one, two, three passes of the scissors. I burned that, then moved into the kitchen where everyone took turns washing my hair while “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair” played on my stereo. Once my hair was wrapped in a towel, we all danced around a bit to the song. Then I took everyone out to Chinese food.

The ritual gave me just enough support and strength to make it through the breakup with less of the usual fear and pain. Oh, I still cried and felt nauseous at times, but it felt as though I had a net under me, a reminder that I had support, and that everything would be OK.

Been a While

I thought it would be a good idea to put a post up even though nothing much has been happening in the dating field. Much has been happening in other realms of my life, some of which will probably have profound effects on my relationships with men. For one, the man who might have been my birth father is not. Finding this out gives me hope that I might be able to let go of the pattern that started with him: A man gets really excited about me, then disappears. This is what happened with him, and it happens over and over with men I date. I really hope this pattern shifts!

My relationship with V is deepening, but is still not ideal. He's opened up to me in new ways, and has a newfound respect in our working relationship, but will not commit to me in any romantic or physical way. It may happen at some point, but he'll be on Social Security by then! He's much older than me.

Due to all the deep work I've been doing, I'm much more in my body, which can only be a good thing. Tuning into myself and knowing what I want are very important to my intimate relationships; I have a tendency to lose track of myself and my desires.

Still fat, still happy!

Yet Another Disaster/Learning Experience!

OK, it's not a total disaster, and I did survive, after everything. I met a guy online, D, who seemed to know himself well, and actually addressed things that I'd written about in my profile. This is very unlike the average man who writes to me. Most of them can barely say more than, "Hello there." Anyway, we decided to meet after a few phone calls and it was quite intense. We liked each other quite a bit. In fact, he wrote me some short haiku poems after the first date, which was very endearing. And it was good poetry. (Can you imagine having a lover who showers you with *bad* poetry? What would you do? "Thanks, honey that's lovely, can't wait for the next one.") He didn't crash through any boundaries by declaring his undying love for me, just wrote about what he liked about me. No red flags.*

The most surreal thing that has ever happened to me happened to me next. On our second date, he realized that he'd met me before. He asked where I'd been living in 1996 and then told me that we'd been out on a date! I was stunned. I did remember the date because he couldn't stop talking about G.K. Chesterton. I didn't know who G.K. Chesterton was then, and I still don't, really, and from what D was saying I didn't think I'd like him. I didn't remember what D looked like, but I did think, every time I would later see a reference to G.K. Chesterton, "Hey, I remember that guy who couldn't stop talking about him." I didn't enjoy our date, and that was our last contact.

A few days before our second date: I'd been really thinking about the film, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, because I felt such a connection to D. It felt like we were just catching up or getting reacquainted, not getting to know each other for the first time. In the film, if you don't know, a couple has their memories of each other erased, but as the memories are being wiped, they realize they want to keep them, but can't. They meet again, and after falling for each other again, they realize the truth and have to decide if they want to try again. I'd even been dressing like Kate Winslet's character in the film--constantly wearing a hat and a scarf. It didn't feel like D and I had met before--I attributed my feelings to some kind of past life or spiritual connection, but perhaps somewhere I did recognize him in my unconscious. I swear, the most surreal dreams and movies, the kind no one would ever think could come true in any way, end up coming true in my life!

So, the second date, we caught up. We each shared what we'd been doing the last 8 years. D had grown up a lot--he was only 25 the first time and now, at 33, he seemed to be able to hold wonderful conversations with me, as well as being a poet. I didn't remember how I'd reacted to him the first time, so at one point I cringed and asked, "Omygod, was I *rude* to you?!" No, no, he said, I was polite, but, rightfully, even in his opinion, not interested.

I was absolutely stunned. It felt like fate had just hit me over the head. We were falling for each other. The implications were too deep to even acknowledge. It was overwhelming. At the same time I was called to jury duty on a murder trial. The stress triggered flashbacks of M4 (see below). I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown. Of course, there's a hitch with
D. He has an ex-girlfriend who he isn't done processing with. Suddenly he's in deep grief over her, feels guilty about how hurt she is by his actions, and has to deal with that. So he goes incomunicado for a while. This is such a pattern with me. It was a rough few days not knowing what was going on, but I'm done with him now. In some ways it's been a big relief. He said, "Maybe there will be a third time." I kinda doubt it. Even if there is, one of us will be married with children or something irrevocable like that.

The intensity, I realize now, has to become a warning sign to me. But, why do I have to be the one in control? Why can't I find someone who really likes me who doesn't have any hitches and whose passions can flow without scaring himself to death? Since this is my first dating experience in a year, I'll have a lot of time to process this, if I keep going at this rate.

I'm still in love with V, of course, even in the midst of feeling my fate was now resting with D. I missed him, and wanted D's kisses to feel more like V's. V and I are getting closer, but at this pace, he'll be on Social Security by the time he's ready to really be with me. He did say, "I love you so much", recently. I hate how much I like that.

*I had a dream after our first conversation, and before meeting, that D had attached electrodes to my body and I was afraid they were connected to a bomb. It woke me up. This was the one bad dream out of several dreams I had that were mostly positive.

About the Title

A note about my title: It's derived from the phrase "Driving While Black", which is derived from "driving while intoxicated." "Driving While Black" refers to African Americans who are pulled over by the police simply because of their color, as if it is a crime. While it isn't as dire a social issue, Dating While Fat does sometimes feel like a crime, if I go by some of the responses I get online. Thus this space to rant, discuss, heal.

It's the Pits

Wow, I was so happy for a while that I haven't felt the need to rant here that much. V and I have started a working relationship that, except for the absence of sex part, is so fulfilling. I get to spend time with the person I love the most in the world. He's less afraid of me now, and our friendship is blossoming. We laugh, we have dinner sometimes, we talk on the phone late at night. We are weaving ourselves into each other's lives. Unfortunately, this project does have an end to it that I hadn't considered until my women's group brought it up! Oh yeah. This isn't a romantic relationship. This is just work to him and he'll easily drop our relationship when it ends. It may not be for several months, but end it will.

What precipitated this pseudo-crisis? Well, today is his birthday. I dropped off a present for him and he was duly appreciative. I asked him to let me know if he wanted to be taken out tonight and he said, "I'm probably going to spend time with my daughter tonight." Completely understandable, right? Until he calls me from the house of a couple who he's been friends with for a very long time. Completely understandable, too, but I ask him if they're baking a cake for him and he says yes, they are. So, it's a very small, very intimate, private celebration that doesn't include me! Completely understandable, but painful to me. It's a wakeup call to realize how he doesn't include me in his life. I'm in this compartmentalized area that cannot be allowed to leak over into another. I can't be real.

That said, he has admitted that he loves me.

Me: I know we love each other; I know you love me!
Him: [silence because he can't deny it]

A few weeks later:

Me: I'm feeling sad and unloved.
Him: Well, I love you, Heidi.
Me: Thanks a lot.
[wry laughter]

It sucks.

Longing Again

I'm dealing with the longing again, wondering what it is, and what purpose it serves in my life. She's shown up in meditations as the ghost of a young woman, Caucasian, who doesn't look like me. She's wearing a long white Victorian nightgown with a high lace collar. Very sweet and innocent, yet sad and haunting. She's longing for something. I get flashes of anger around her, maybe because her persona is too sweet to feel anger.

I've been feeling anger myself, lately. It's not coming out towards anyone, except that I notice I've been combative in my online relationships recently. I also have been keeping a diary as a daily practice recommended by a therapist, and I notice that my resentment for doing it is completely out of proportion with the task. It almost feels like a punishment. Like I've been BAD.

Ghosts never get what they think they're looking for, they are always considered lost and in need of direction. Once directed properly, do they stop haunting and head towards the light? Am I in search of direction?

In China, "hungry ghosts" are created when a person dies tragically young or if they commit suicide. They cannot become benevolent ancestors, they forever haunt people in the physical plane, always hungry.

This is not what I want for myself. I don't want to be a ghost of any kind. I am substantive, I have a body, and I have needs that I want fulfilled.

Need to Let Him Go!

Need to Let Him Go!

I think I need to let V go. He's already gone, but a version of him has been living in my heart and in my lower chakras for over a year now. I've feng shui'd the relationship area of my place, which lets new light and air into those areas. It's as if stirring up the dust, literally, forces me to deal with what's been sitting there, collecting emotional cobwebs.

Tonight he called me after he had driven a friend two hours away to pick up "their" car that had broken down and been repaired there. I had a sick feeling in my belly about it, knowing that most of his friends are women. He referred to the friend as "they". As in, they had to pick up the car and now they're driving it back. Is this paranoia? What if it's true? How can he have a new girlfriend if I don't have a new boyfriend, yet? Why would he do such a large favor for someone who wasn't a girlfriend? I bet it's the "friend" who works at a theater who lets him in after midnight to watch movies for free.

Earlier today I was feeling pretty good about C. He calls me every once in a while to ask me out on a date, but I won't date him. He's too flakey. I needed a favor from him, though, so I called him. He was nice and pleasant, and asked if a friend of his could also come over. I was hesitant at first, but then agreed. This is the friend who's bisexual, and the friend is curious about me, and C thinks we have common interests. Anyway, I got off the phone, and a few minutes later, I flushed warm and smiled at myself that I would soon have an "evening"--it's not a date--with two bi men who are, um, interested in me. Two men, focusing on me! That's pretty cool. It hasn't happened in a while. It throws into relief how I don't get what I need from V.

Shall I make up for lost time with two men at once?

Is "BBW" a dirty word?

Is "BBW" a dirty word? The acronym for Big Beautiful Woman is commonly used on the web's dating and mating sites, and it's particularly ubiquitous on Craigslist. These are just some of the listing headlines that I found today in the personals section:

SWM seeking BBW to spend passionate night with....
Looking for bbw who wants to pLaY
BBW? BBW? BBW?
Seeking Short, Curvy BBW for..

I wonder if they think we're all desperate fat women who can't find anything better than a man who wants us just for the way we put out. But then, it's like their so-called attraction, or opportunity for easy sex, depending on how you look at it, is treated as some kind of sick fetish. The attitude is secretive, slithery, sleazy, in the dark, anonymous. "I like it in the sheets but not in the streets," is how the saying goes.

Is liking fat women a fetish? I would say yes, but only if you count only liking thin women with big boobs a fetish. Generally, that's called "normal". I can't believe the amount of men who think their preferences are "just the way they are." Like they weren't raised in a culture that hates the feminine, and that rarely shows women of size as anything other than laughable, or worse, worthy only of derision. We are cut off from one of our basic rights as human beings--that of giving and receiving affection. The sad thing is the men are cut off from it too, when they only look at their "type". More love means more love means more love. I ask again, haven't you ever found yourself falling in love with someone you thought you couldn't be attracted to? No? Then I feel sorry for you.

I'm looking for a man who likes women. Period. No, make that a man who loves women, period. I want a man who can honor feminine power and wisdom and can do so without acting hen-pecked or cuckolded, passivley-aggressively hating women because of the deal they had to strike. I'm sad that men who appreciate fat women may come across the BBW term used as it is on craigslist and then feel encouraged to objectify these women, instead of finding a place where--does it even exist online--women are respected and honored as equally powerful as men.

Rant-ish

I haven't posted anything in a while because sometimes I feel like a fraud having a blog called Dating While Fat. I am fat, but I'm not dating!! I had a flurry of emails from guys last month--like they said, "It's the new year and I don't have a relationship! Oh, but that means talking to real people. Forget it."-- but lately, nothing much is happening. I'm still on eharmony, but the guys there seem to be focused on marriage, and with all the gay marriage stuff in the news lately, I'm becoming more and more entrenched in my convictions that marriage is just a patriarchal construct originally meant to oppress women. I don't see why gays and lesbians want to bring it into their lives. They'll probably get divorced at the same rate as everyone else, and be no better off. And what about single rights? Why can't I just have whoever I want to have my social security benefits, and visit me in the hospital. Is it really about who has the right to pull the plug on me?

Maybe it's about being recognized by society. A different matter entirely, even though they keep saying it's about benefits. Why does the government have to legitimize my relationships? I don't care if the government sees my choices as legitimate or not, as long as everyone has equal rights. I actually think that marriage as a legal construct should be demolished. I think that two people who love each other should have the right to assign their benefits as they see fit, and make whatever spiritual commitments they want. If I remain single, I will never receive the benefits married people do. And what about if I love two people? We would have no rights, either.

Dating Mood: I'm so radical. It's hard.