Everyone's doing it but me.

On-line dating has been a primary source for meeting people and arranging dates for the past several years. I have also wasted hours and hours reading profiles of strangers, sending carefully composed messages to men who had nice profiles and who rarely responded, and being perplexed as to why the only (okay, the vast majority) men who ever initiated contact with me on-line were either extremely unattractive or incredibly creepy.

One day I woke up and realized that everything about on-line dating made me feel as if I didn’t measure up. But measure up to what exactly? I’m still trying to figure that out. I have friends who on-line date regularly, successfully and who even seem to have fun with it.  I’m still not sure what I was doing wrong; but I do know that even after years of profile tweaks, following advice in articles about how to do it successfully, more profile edits by male and female friends, periods of actively sending out messages, or winks, or ratings usually followed by crickets and then periods of despair and petulant avoidance... I still rarely had positive experiences.

The realization that on-line dating failure was actually hurting my self-esteem was a particularly tough moment of truth. The fact that I could feel rejected by (perceived) legions of eligible men in cyber space, and that this feeling was affecting me so deeply shocked me.

In real life I am confident, sometimes overly so. I am fiercely independent. I think that I’m pretty. (We’re not supposed to say that. Ever. Are we?) Much of the wonder and fabulousness of being thirty-something is coming into my own ability to be true to myself at all times, knowing that people are free to take it or leave it, and understanding that the ones who choose to take it are the only ones who matter. 

Yet somehow, the cumulative effect of on-line dating has left me feeling less-than. Less than my friends who can easily book four dates with four normal guys, in the time it takes me to get a single message back from a non-creepster in my age range. Less than the hundreds of other girls in my neighborhood with profiles who all must be prettier/younger/wittier/friendlier/easier to match than me, and who are undoubtedly having fabulous dates all the time. Less than what I know I actually am.

Once I had this realization though, the action plan was clear. Complete and total demolition of every account I had ever created. Match. OK Cupid. E-Harmony. Chemistry. Obliterated.

I’ve opted out of cycle, and it actually feels pretty good. But, sometimes when I’m feeling particularly lonely I still contemplate logging back into an old account (They never let you actually fully delete them you know.) “just for fun” or “just to take a look”. This is when I take a deep breath and spend an hour organizing my closet, or re-folding all the clothes in my dresser, or giving myself a mani/pedi.  Channel ling my unrest into something that makes me feel good about myself, even if it’s a silly project, gets me in a positive mindset. Which is where I need to be here in the real world.

set backs, and steps forward

Right before I left for the Acadia Climbing trip on Memorial Day weekend I had my fourth follow-up visit with my new GI. It was disappointing, because I had been experiencing a resurgence of symptoms and we made two decisions: the first was to go back to a higher dose of prednisone and to lengthen the weaning off period, so that instead of 10 days between dropping dosage I will stay at each dosage for 14 days; the second was to start a the more aggressive level of long-term management medications.

(… yikes, is this really what my life, and my blog has become about…????)

At that time I also made a commitment to fully follow the diet recommendations; which up until that point I had been sort of, loosely obeying. Except for the part about not drinking alcohol, which I had decided to completely ignore… well, wait, I did cut back. A little. So for the past week and half I’ve been a carb loading, fiber avoiding, supplement taking, probiotic consuming, teetotaler.

Now, normally, I’m a glass of wine a nite kind of girl. Usually at this time of the school year I’m a two glasses of wine a nite kind of girl. (Countdown to summer vacation is on, but there’s just so much to do to get there.) I miss the variety of fruits and veggies and nuts in my diet, a lot, but I miss the wine (and sometimes gin) more. I’ve been to birthday parties, barbecues, and bars with friends all without consuming a drop. It’s taken a bit of self-restraint.

But you know what? Something is working.  I can’t say for sure if it’s one of the above, or the grand combination of all of the above factors, but it’s working.

My symptoms aren’t gone, but they are vastly improved. Right now the prednisone side-effects are more prevalent than the Crohn’s symptoms.  I feel almost… normal. For the first time in weeks my body is craving exercise.

I pulled out one of my home work out videos this weekend, and settled on an ab blast routine. Let me tell you… my abs have been the last thing that I have wanted to exercise, look at, think about in past few weeks. But prior to the Crohn’s diagnosis I was pretty damn proud to be rocking a four-pack. A result of the combination of core strength from climbing and my love of pilates mat work. So… two months ago I was completing the at home routine utilizing the modifications to make it harder (adding weights, straighter legs, etc.). Saturday I followed along with the ‘easy’ modifications, and I struggled to finish. But finish I did.

Now if I could only actually get myself to a yoga class…