I know what you are, but what am I?

Write... delete... write... delete...

How do you write a dating post without sounding like fabulous lunatic, Carrie Bradshaw?

While this will hardly be my only post on the subject, and trust me, there will be many documenting my adventures and misadventures (there are a lot of those fuckers), I want to develop a foundation of sorts for what I'm dealing with here.  I want you, the reader (if there are any), to understand where I'm coming from, what I'm feeling and why I do the shit I do.

Think of this as a sort of prologue.

I'll admit it.  I've become a serial dater.  It just kind of happened.  I discovered the magic of online dating and used it as a man-buffet.  At first, for entertainment.  And then, I realized my reasons for doing this ran much deeper than a free meal and good make-out sesh.  I wasn't looking for anything serious because, let's face it, when I started this hobby, I was still pretty fragile (from events that will remain unwritten until I feel like I can do so properly, which I'm not sure I ever can).  Meeting these different men wasn't so much about finding a "mate" as it was about reworking myself.  I had fallen apart and needed a way to piece myself back together, sort out who I was.

This sounds awful, depending on men to make myself feel whole again.  I totally realize that.  But, honestly, I feel like it's much more complicated than it looks.  Let me explain.

1) As I said before, I was not looking for a serious relationship, but I also wasn't just looking for a fuck-buddy either.  I wanted a friend.  Lots of friends.  I wanted to keep myself busy with all of these friends.  Going back home after being away for nearly six years... I had very few friends left in the city.  Except for my bestie and a few old high school buddies that I saw once or twice, I had no one.  And, in a city like Montreal, making friends after being gone for six years doesn't come easy, especially when you've changed and so many have stayed the same.

I knew that if I didn't entertain myself somehow, I would go crazy.  I would sit and think of everything that happened and be sad and hurt and never recover because I would spend the whole summer wallowing in self-pity and M&M's.  And that happened often.  But with these new suitors to grab food, drinks, movies, etc... with when my bestie was occupied (or sick of my moping), I distracted myself.  A distraction that came with little commitment and, usually, a fun activity (or sexy times).

2) No one ever turned down a compliment.  As someone who had suffered a blow to whatever self-esteem, self-respect, self-anything they had, I needed to try and understand what was so great about myself.  And when you receive a flood of invitations from potential suitors, using positive words that you hadn't heard in about 6 months, you latch on to the idea that someone, out there, might appreciate you for whatever reason.

As someone who struggles to take a compliment, receiving a flood of them from strangers (or eventually lovers...) is confusing and kind of nice.  The quick and easy confidence boost I needed to realize that I was still everything that I thought I wasn't.  As I said before, this sounds kind of bad, but sometimes, in a dark place, you take what you can get and go with it.  My therapist had no complaints with my logic, fyi.

3)  I was lost.  I didn't really know who I was anymore so I felt that this was a good opportunity to test out different facets of myself.  Interacting with these guys, who had no idea about what I was, what I am and what I wanted to be... it almost acted as a trial run for what aspects of myself worked best.  There were remnants of me in each meeting, each action, but I had a chance to start fresh in a subtle way.  Be the person that faded away, but better.

I feel like testing the waters on my "multiple personalities" has really helped me heal... in a strange way.  I'm no Frankenstein's monster, stitched together with coarse thread and feelings, but I feel like through piecing together my trials and tribulations, I've become someone I can tolerate again.

(Side note: I really wanted to order Chinese while writing this post.  Like right now.)

As I continue to date in New York, the blows and the successes haven't gotten easier.  I still have trouble accepting rejection as a "it's them, not you" scenario, I still struggle with how to sum up my reasoning for online dating (because sometimes "man-buffet" doesn't really cut it) when asked and, more recently, I have trouble approaching my past with my present and potential future.  But, what I do know, is that you have to roll with the punches and use each situation to your advantage.  Living in the past won't help, but being afraid of the future doesn't do much either.