Confessions of a Bumble Bee

Disclaimer:  If you’d like to skip this entry but still get the point, just listen to “...Ready for It” by Tswift.

I’ve been marinating on this entry for months trying to find the right words for this. Let’s start from the beginning where I first saw his Bumble Profile.

Smart guy, he put a picture of himself next to his friend and he’s clearly much taller. Wait...he’s Australian? Like the home of Chris Hemsworth? Looks good in a suit, CHECK. Works in finance? SCORE. This guy is going to ghost me and I won’t even be mad. 

After a few messages, he asked if he could drag me out for a bite. I had nothing to lose.

I suggested a bar I had been wanting to try in DTLA. I arrived before he did and sat at the bar, heart racing. It’s been 4 years since I’ve done this “dating” thing. I had forgotten how nerve-wracking first dates can be. What should one do or say? What’s appropriate? How much of myself should I reveal?

This Adonis-esque guy walks in to the bar with his brooding eyes staring down at me. He introduces himself with his Aussie accent, leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. He must have felt the warmth on my cheek as I was flushed from his presence. It was so silly- I hadn’t been this flabbergasted around anyone in so long.

J must have been 6’3 or 6’4 since I’m wearing my block heels and he’s still towering over me. He was handsome with a devious smile. We started with vodka sodas and the happy hour burgers. He put his credit card down and kept it open.

As the date progressed, I had forgotten all about my initial jitters. We laughed, flirted and discussed everything from the growth of the global housing markets to what we find attractive in the opposite sex. Our background was similar as well: we both grew up in low socioeconomic neighborhoods, made it out, and both are financially responsible for our parents, He was witty, well read, and articulate. Our chemistry mixed better than vodka & soda. I found myself flipping my hair, touching his arm, batting my lashes and doing all those cliche BS that girls do when they liked a guy. I hadn’t felt this entrenched and lustful for a guy for a while.

I bought the next round of drinks since I really wanted to keep him around longer. It turned out he was only in town for a few days pursuing some job opportunities in the U.S. I have a hard time imagining myself leaving SoCal let alone the country to pursue more opportunities internationally. His thirst for life and drive to not settle for less was very attractive to me. However, it became clear that this was going to be our first and last meeting. J asked if I wanted to get another round of drinks at his hotel and I happily obliged.  The night was just beginning. One thing was certain, he was hung... up on me.

It was now 7 AM the next day and I’m scrambling to rush out of his hotel to get to work on time. I gave him a hug and said thanks! He told me in a frank voice, “Don’t forget about me! I’ll be back.” Puzzled, I looked at him and replied, “YOU don’t forget about me!”

Throughout the day, J texted me and asked how my day went. I replied with a smile on my face. I honestly didn’t even understand why he was contacting me- there was really no future to pursue but I played along.

We added each other on Snapchat so he could share his adventures of traveling across the US with me while I shared my 9 PM “finally getting out of work” snaps with him. Our interactions continued for a whole month with J checking in on me every day. I started to tell him about my Bumble adventures and we’d both laugh.

After one particularly bad date, I drunkenly messaged J and asked him point blank, “Why are you still talking to me and why do you even like me?” I couldn’t understand why a guy like him bothered with someone like me, who was so broken at the time, still processing and grieving. 

His response: 

 “You’re smart, driven, and not afraid to go into new directions.... And the ___ was off the charts”.  

He followed with, 

“I know you must hate men right now, but hopefully you can think of our night and know that some good is out there for you.”

That right there, was one of the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me. This stranger that spent a few hours had captured my spirit in a few words in a way that my then partner couldn’t. He was keen early on and he was paying attention.  

It was divine how I met J in time when I really believed that there was nothing left for me in terms of romantic love. I was convinced a few years back that I was never going to find anyone “better” than my then partner. I was afraid that I wasn’t enough and far too damaged for anyone to find attractive. I’ve also learned that something doesn’t have to last forever for it to be a wonderful thing. I snapped out of that goal-oriented mode and just enjoyed J’s company and conversations for what it is.

When I’m ready for love, I’d want my partner to see me beyond my superficial attributes. I’d want a partner who not only can keep up with me but also helps guide me and gives me constructive criticism. Ultimately, I’d want my partner to respect and nurture my mind, body, and spirit.

“We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything- what a waste!” - Andre Aciman, Call Me By Your Name

A wonderful friend of mine had sent me this excerpt along with a $25 Venmo transaction so I could purchase this book on Audible (my new hobby). It’s been haunting me ever since these words entered my consciousness. My friend had confided in me that he never knew how to put what he felt into words until he saw the movie and became immediately entrenched in the book. I felt the same way- speechless. I felt completely emotionally bankrupt. 

Though I wanted to write a lighthearted and maybe even a slightly Rated-R post, I can’t bring myself to do it today. I’ve been ripping out so much of myself lately to quickly move past the anguish of ending an engagement to my best friend of 4 years. I’ve been on so many first dates in the past few months that I’ve gotten accustomed to not trying to remember anything about the guy besides his first name and employment. I don’t share anything substantial about myself because I just know he doesn’t care and I’ll probably never see him again. I say this with pure apathy- a vocabulary that previously did not exist in my life. I was the opposite of apathetic to anyone that has met me. I felt every emotion so deeply, chasing the highs and digesting the lows. Before, I was a vehicle constantly in motion that wasn’t going to stop for anyone. How could I stop when there was so much to experience and learn? 

 Yesterday I could barely bring myself to get out of bed. I had embarked on this silly “Perfect Week Challenge” where I’d go on a date with a different guy for 7 days straight just to say I did it. It was a bit of an homage to my favorite sitcom- How I Met Your Mother (Go Barney!).  

This was my routine:

Wake up, go to work, go home, shower, makeup, “Hi, nice to meet you!”, “Thanks for the fun time! We should do this again!”, go home, sleep, wake up, go to work, go home, shower, makeup, “Hi, nice to meet you!”, “Thanks for the drinks!”, sleep, go home, shower, go to work, go home, shower, makeup “Great to finally meet you!”, “Thanks for meeting me”, go home, sleep... 

There were some genuinely good laughs in between these meetups and all the guys were quite nice. I’m sure they were lovely people with their own aspirations, but I’ll never know. I don’t quite care to know. I don’t want to know anything about them that would make me remotely like them or feel any form of attraction to them.  I am completely emotionally bankrupt and have been running on credit for months.

I was no longer on a perpetual train getting to a destination. I was trapped in a revolving door of first dates, drinks, and “Where are you from?” conversations while I could feel the light in my eyes dim each time I meet a new person.

I have no one to blame as I chose to do this. I chose to feel nothing as opposed to feeling everything. For now, I rather distract myself with the constant revolving door of guys than to think about how I had our entire wedding planned down to the dessert tags or reminded of the dozens of blush colored parasols sitting in the garage, or the most perfect engagement ring collecting dust in the Safe. I watch all my friends celebrate their 5 year anniversaries and announce their pregnancies while I ordered Thai food delivery because I don’t want to eat alone in public again today. I’ve been sifting through the remnants of our previous life together after He moved out. I felt my heart break into a million pieces rummaging through our escort name tags we’ve accumulated through the years of attending weddings together. He took his and left me with mine. Despite how many men enter and leave my life, it will never feel as empty as that room.

He went to an Ivy League School - Plus 1 pt

He’s an ER resident - Plus 5 pts

He’s 6 ft tall - Plus 5 pts

He suggested Wine Tasting for our date - Plus 10 pts

Before I even met the guy, he was already way ahead of all the pack. Let me break down my Bumble profile on a good week. 

I match with about 60/100 of the guys we swipe right on. (Yes, I mean we as in my best friends who are now also acting as my life managers. So Britney of me right?) 

Of those 60, I message about 40 . Out of those 40, half replies. Of the remaining 20, 10 will leave it at “How’s your weekend?” and now we’ve got 10 guys to bumble through. 5 /10 will tell me to “come over” and ask for nudes or just send me dick pics, turned out to be misogynistic, racist, or worst of all a guy who can’t differentiate between your and you’re. 

E, was a winner for sure. After a week of flirting through Bumble between his overnight shifts and my nonstop patient load, we finally settled on wine on Friday night. Mind you it was a long trek for me and he had just come from post call- so we were both pretty invested. 

The Lyft pulls up and E is already standing there waiting for me. He’s even more handsome in person with piercing green eyes. He opened doors and pulled out the chair and was overall a perfect gentleman. We do the usual first date talk and although our childhoods were vastly different, our goals and view on life were in sync. He and I both pursued medicine after another career. He studied Anthropology in undergrad and I studied Gerontology.  I found his curiosity and passion for helping others very endearing. The dreaded topic of “So what’s a successful and attractive person like you doing on Bumble” arrived about 3 tastings in. Immediately, I went into autopilot - except this autopilot is set on ejection mode. 

While he responded with a simple

 “I haven’t had much time to meet new people that share my similar views/ education levels”

I went into

 “Let me tell you about how I was engaged to this guy and our wedding was paid for in full and he called the wedding off after 4 years of being together because we couldn’t agree on kids among other things” mode. 

SO MORTIFYING. The funny/sad thing is I could tell the moment I opened my mouth, I knew I was being batshit crazy. I knew it! My mind was screaming “Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!” but I couldn’t stop. Eventually I ended the retelling of my tragedy with “But I’m fine! Everything is fine.” 

But I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t even okay. I had walked into the date with this cloud looming over my head. I was going to meet with a couple the next day to sell our wedding contract to try an recoup some of the money. There was so much hurt and anxiety there.  

Later on in our date, we ended up grabbing a bite to eat and bonded over our mutual dislikes of Orthos. E asked what my plans were for the rest of the weekend, A normal and sane person would say “Hanging out with family and friends” but not me! I brought up my wedding contract again and was spilling my guts out to this guy who looks at me with his gorgeous gaze. He kindly responded to my wreckage with:

“I’m so sorry to hear that! It must be so confusing for you. On one end, it’s a good thing to get that money back. On the other, it was supposed to be a significant event in your life.” 

At the end of our date, he offered to drive me home. We kissed goodnight and went our separate ways.

Let’s recap  He’s kind, thoughtful, articulate, successful, ambitious, intelligent, funny, attractive, he took me to wine tasting, and our views on life align. He’s basically the guy most girls would want to lock down. He has marriage material written all over him.

How did I behave around this guy? Like a tormented, melodramatic, walking time-bomb. He really is perfect, but... the problem isn’t him. It’s me. I’ve been burning through Bumble dates without having enough time to heal and reflect on my own hurt. I haven’t allowed myself enough time to sort through my feelings and instead I use these dates as therapy sessions, venting to a complete stranger. 

I eventually texted him the next day with an apology for bringing so much emotional baggage and he was nice enough (again so perfect!) to respond with “I believe you! It was so nice getting to know you. How’s your weekend?” 

Pulling into the pavement of a Shell station, my heart was pounding 1000 beats a minute. “This is it for me. Of course this would happen to me. I’m going to lose everything.”

I got pulled over around 11 PM by a cop on his bike. I had never been pulled over in the 12 years that I’ve been driving. He asked me, “ Have you been drinking?” And the answer is... yes.

Let’s back up.

I had reluctantly agreed to meet this guy for drinks after work on a Friday evening. I had zero expectations and kinda forgot what he even looked like. We decided to meet at one of my favorite bars in Pasadena. A brunette guy with a nice trimmed beard in a floral shirt approached me. My indifference became infatuation within minutes. Turns out, P was really REALLY cute. P was funny and seemed like he had his shit together. As the night progressed, I was in turmoil. On one hand, he’s extremely attractive. On the other hand, he’s annoyingly sarcastic. One drink turned into 4 and dinner. My original plan of meeting at 6 PM for 1 drink and bailing by 7:30 PM had turned into a 5 hour ordeal. 

He walked me to my car at the end of the date and yet I still had no idea if this guy even liked me at all. 

Then he kissed me and I felt like a 16  year old girl again. [INSERT WHAT HIGHSCHOOLERS DO IN THE BACK SEAT OF CARS HERE]  I decided to go back to his place against my better judgement. I wasn’t drunk, I knew that. I paced myself at 1 drink per hour, and I’m usually drinking my friends under the table. 

When I got pulled by the cop for “having tinted windows and not turning my lights on until I left the parking garage” I was on the verge of tears. I couldn’t possibly handle a DUI on top of trying to reclaim my dignity after my breakup. I passed all the physical exam and was offered a voluntary breathalizer exam which I so graciously declined.

Me: “Can you read me my rights?”

Cop:” You’re not under arrest.”

Me: “Oh ok, if you don’t mind I’m trying to get to my date’s apartment right now. Kthxbye”

It was now 11:45 PM. I was determined to get to his place. I’ve committed. I have to follow through. Just my luck, the freeway closes down. The 30 minute commute is now an hour commute. Any rational person would’ve called and declined and just go home. But not me. I’m irrational and emotional. I’ve already poured too much effort into this and I have to see it through. By the time I got to his place and found parking it was almost 2 AM. [INSERT WHAT PEOPLE IN THEIR LATE 20′S DO AT 2 AM.] 

P was so sweet and gentle and just overall a nice guy with zero complications in his life. He is my antithesis. I’m all about complications. Everywhere I go, a trail of complications and drama follow me. Truth is, I broke down crying in my car trying to get to his place. I couldn’t believe that I was doing this. I was 27 and trying to navigate how to be single after planning an entire wedding. I was mad at my former fiance and mostly I was mad at myself. 

I realized in that moment after an almost DUI that I was the person to always give it my all. I was going to commit 100% and see it through despite how much the cost outweighs the benefit. This instance was so representative of how I approach all my previous relationships. I was going to to desperately make it work with just about anyone- as if through sheer determination and dedication that anything could work. Rarely do I ever stop to re-evaluate whether this guy was worth all that effort. 

I had undervalued my own worth and inflated his. 

Today marks the 1 year anniversary of when my now ex-fiance proposed. While there were many things that I survived this year, from passing my medical boards exams to being done with my surgery rotations, one thing didn’t survive 2017: my relationship with a man that I have been devoted to for the past 4 years. 

The first thing everyone reacts with is , “You’re kidding! You guys are amazing. You’ll work it out, I’m sure” No one can believe that it was over. Not even me. To be clear, he watched me plan our Pinterest wedding for months while he sat on this time bomb. The day before I was going to buy my wedding dress, he finally blurted out that he wanted to postpone our wedding for 4-5 more years until he figured his life out. 

“How fucking selfish!” was my first thought. After the countless hours discussing, and crying, and pouring our guts out, it all became quite clear that I was going to do anything to make these 2 pieces fit when they were clearly two corner pieces on opposite sides of the puzzle. Hell, we weren’t even part of the same puzzle. The initial humiliation and disappointment of telling our loved ones that we would not be getting married next year (after some pricey Save the Dates had just been sent out!) was painful. But I’m glad it happened.

Parts of me always had doubts. I knew I was settling for a long time. The person that I lied to the most was myself. Everything was good enough. He was kind and good to me and my family and friends-good enough. He’s college educated and working on his second career transition- good enough. He’s handsome and looks great in a suit- good enough. He listens to me sometimes and repeats back all my opinions to me- good enough. For someone who claims to be so ambitious and resilient, I was settling for good enough. 

Today I am 27, turning 28 in a few weeks , picking up the pieces of my life after my relationship  ended. I woke up one morning and didn’t know who he was, and worst of all I didn’t know who I was. Now, I’m learning how to love myself. Love all of me- even the ugly parts that I so desperately want to hide from everyone including myself. I was so fixated on crafting this Pinterest Perfect Wedding (pun intended!) in order to masque my deep seated fear of being abandoned and being alone. I’m relearning how to be single in world full of fleeting bumble matches with the attention span less than that of a goldfish’s. 

The universe is so cruel and kind. The best part is, I want to stay for this journey of rediscovering myself and figuring out what I like and what I don’t like. There aren’t any desperate yearning of love masked as rosy colored glasses to cloud my judgments. I can truly say, “Yes, that makes me happy” or “No. This is shitty” and that is the end of that. I don’t owe anyone anything. I don’t have to plan my life around anyone.