It was supposed to be easy.
Create profiles on dating sites, chat up men, go on dates, have fun, and fall in love.
What was I thinking? That men were simple? That they were easy to understand? That they wanted to find a woman like me and fall in love? Boy was I wrong.
I am a confident, intelligent, and easy going woman. I can talk about a number of issues and create an environment where people feel comfortable telling me their stories. I love stories. I love listening to all the things people have gone through. Asking them questions, sharing my insights and similar experiences.
The funny thing is, the minute I meet a guy for coffee I get nervous and turn into a babbling idiot who can’t shut up. I talk and share and talk until the quality men get up, shake my hand, and say thank you very much, before running out the door.
I don’t judge anyone. I don’t. At least I try not to. I’ve been judged by others who claim to love me my whole life and come up short every time. So I don’t want to be that way with others. However, when a guy asks you if you’ll breast feed him before he even says hello on a dating site it’s kind of hard not to make a snap judgement and delete the message.
I have big boobs. A curvy figure. And sexy eyes, or so I’ve been told by countless men trying to convince me they are actually looking at my eyes and not the large melons attached to my chest. Basically I’m built like an online porn star and men can’t see beyond my ample assets to find out who I am underneath.
Let’s face it. Men really don’t care who I am. They don’t know me. They don’t want to ‘know’ me. They just like my quick wit, my sunny disposition, and want to know what acts I am willing to perform.
They just want easy fun and I am not easy nor am I any fun.
I am prickly as a cactus and as picky as a toddler at dinner time. I come with a truckload of baggage and life hits me with challenges on a regular basis. The way I see it, life has a sick sense of humour and is trying to figure out how much crap I can take before I break down and check myself into a mental institution. So far. Life 0 Shannon 1, 000.
I am also a writer. At least I call myself one.
I have written a book about a teenage boy, a single mom, a cop, and an invading army. It is published and sells steady enough. However, there is another book I want to write. One I have put on the back burner. A novel about dating in the 21st Century, about women trying to find love a second time, and all the humour, heartbreak, and absurdity that comes with it.
That’s where this blog comes in. A first step into my mind. Into my life and the lives of my single friends trying to find love and coming up short. Those who find love and those who find themselves instead.
I have no idea where this is going to go. All I know. Is dating is not easy. It sucks and I am terrible at it. I think there is a funny story in there and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find myself by writing it. Judge me if you want… I really don’t care anymore what others think of me.
Come along on my journey with me by starting at the beginning: Character Development.
Shannon Peel is the author of THIRTEEN, a marketing professional, a single mom, and a divorced woman trying to find love in Vancouver, BC Canada. Her daily life is filled with struggle, humour, love, and stories. She encourages you to follow her and come along this journey with her.