Home > Singles > Single Minded
McDating
by Camerin Courtney
January 9, 2008
At first looking for love on the Internet seemed weird. So impersonal, so dangerous, so desperate. But then we realized we weren't meeting potential dates anywhere else. And then a friend of a friend tried Internet dating and didn't get mugged or kidnapped or cut up into little pieces. So maybe it was worth a try.
So, secretly, in the privacy of our own homes, we logged on, fed in our credit card numbers, and created clever screen names. We searched endlessly for electronic images of ourselves looking thin and content and non-desperate and spent too long figuring out how to post them. Then we agonized over the three best adjectives to describe ourselves, the five things we can't live without, our hopes for the future, our ideal first date.
When we were finally satisfied with this electronic dating resume, we sat back and marveled at the ability to search for and e-mail interesting-sounding single people while in our bathrobe. We requested communication, and winked, and waved, and employed all other kinds of newfangled ways to drop a hankie or bat an eye—and we held our breath, hoping this smiling stranger who loved Jesus and Russian literature would look at our picture and profile and find us worth a message, a minute of his life.
Occasionally we'd meet one of these smiling strangers at a local Starbucks to share strong coffee and weak attempts at conversation. And if, by some miracle, any of these strangers became part of our life's cast of characters, we secretly hoped no one would ask how we'd met. If someone did, we'd mumble, "on the Internet," and then flash a sheepish grin.
But thankfully we've gotten over it.
Gone are the days of asking my single friends how things are with Uncle Neil, code in our circle for "What's happening with your eHarmony matches?" Now we talk openly about people we've met on eHarmony, ChristianCafe, Match, or Yahoo Personals.
I freely admit I'm a veteran of the Internet dating game. I've been there, clicked that, and even dated a few guys I've first spied on a screen. Signing up for an online site has gotten easier each time—as this route to relationship has become more normative and as I've gotten more used to the notion I might tell my grandkids an electronic love story someday.
But after finally coming to terms with the general concept of Internet dating, I've started noticing some nuanced dynamics of looking for love in an electronic age. One of the best things about the Internet is the sheer number of people to meet. In a time when, for some of us single women, finding a church-going single Christian man is as easy as finding the Holy Grail, suddenly spying a whole screen full of men is like striking gold or oil or an endless supply of Dove dark chocolate.
But, ironically, one of the worst things about the Internet is the sheer number of people to meet. And not until recently, with the weirdness veneer now stripped away from this new dating trend, did I realized how the volume on the web can negatively impact our dating practices.
On a practical level, simply keeping all these folk straight is sometimes difficult. Where was that guy who reads to the blind? Which one writes poetry in his spare time? And if keeping potential matches straight in our own head is difficult, keeping track during a conversation with our single friends can prove impossible. My online dating buddies and I have devised a shorthand for identifying these guys by combining their name with one of their most identifying characteristics. Thus, Acid Reflux Joe, Saucy Bob, Texas Stan, and the like.
But at times I fear nicknaming these guys strips away some of their value and worth. On the web, I too easily forget each of those names and faces is a person with feelings and hopes and gifts and fears. This medium too easily facilitates nicknaming, rejecting, snubbing, or recreationally flirting without respect for a brother in Christ's feelings.
When searching through pages of smiling singletons, I've also noticed I subconsciously slip into consumer mode. After all, from this same screen I've bought a shower curtain, a laptop bag, and a funky pair of earrings. With each of these purchases, I comparison shopped, held out for the most eye-catching bargain, even checked other customers' ratings. And while using savvy and a discerning eye when perusing potential matches on the web is a must, that can go too far.
I'm tempted to look at Joey from Detroit and wonder if I might be able to find someone just a tad more educated, better looking, articulate, funny, and seemingly spiritual. With so many options on the screen, pickiness seems only natural. I may pass up a perfectly great guy for the chance of an even greater one waiting just a few more clicks away. If someone doesn't immediately grab my attention, I might blithely just move on. The volume can make us a bit cocky—and oblivious of blind spots.
Sure, with matters of the heart we need to be choosy, but with people (not products) we need to look for deeper qualities. Not just the flashy packaging, but the traits that require a closer look—such as integrity, honor, a good heart, a seasoned soul.
I've also noticed chemistry needs to ignite rather quickly in Internet dating. The posted photo has to offer a glimmer of attraction, even though many people don't photograph terribly well. And when we meet an Internet match in person, some sort of spark has to ignite within the first date or two, or why bother continuing to get together? The whole purpose of meeting was to feel out a potential relationship. If that doesn't seem evident immediately, most of us walk away.
This concept makes sense on some levels. But, with some people, I've also taken six months of interacting before I've really gotten to know them and see their unique attractiveness. I've developed crushes on men two years into knowing them. The web's uber-fast pace wouldn't have allowed those feelings to develop. Plus, some people just don't offer an instant razzle-dazzle; they're more of a slow burn. I fear we miss out on that with the fast-food nature of the web.
Don't get me wrong, I still think Internet dating is a great tool. But as with any tool, it needs to be used properly to be truly effective. So with time and experience, I've learned that online dating takes time—mainly because people are wondrously complex and relationships need time to breathe and blossom, no matter how they start.
In trying to become more aware of the potentially negative dynamics to help ward off the downside of Internet dating's volume, I've been trying to look deeper, take more time, read attentively, and cut others some slack. Even if that guy who "nudges" me doesn't look like McDreamy or spark McChemistry, I still read his message and respond. Even if that first date with a seemingly decent guy doesn't knock me off my feet, I agree to date two, hopefully allowing nerves to quiet down and hidden strengths to emerge. And hopefully allowing others—and most important, God—to take me by sweet surprise.
We welcome your feedback and brainstorms at: SinglesNewsletter@ChristianityToday.com
Sign up for the Singles Newsletter and receive a new article from Camerin plus community updates in your inbox every other week!
Copyright © 2008 ChristianityToday.com
|
 |
|
|
eHarmony is a completely new way to build a relationship. We turn the process around, so you learn about people from the inside-out before you get involved.
Falling in love still takes chemistry, but eHarmony gives you the confidence to take the first step, knowing that you and your matches are truly compatible for the long-run.
Only eHarmony creates matches based on 29 proven dimensions of compatibility and over 30 years of relationship expertise. Combining this knowledge and experience with our commitment to personal care ensures that eHarmony will work for you.
|
|
|
|
| |
|
