You Can Choose Your Friends

One of the worst elements of 40s+ dating is the fact that you have to meet a whole host of people for the first time – and know that you are being sized up; judged… compared.  Even if you are not actually being evaluated in any way, shape or form; it is certainly the case inside your head before and while meeting them for the first time.  Hell, sometimes I’ve waited for them to lift up the score cards!

This is made much harder if family and friends actually liked the ex; because they are basically prepared to loathe you on sight.  They can’t help themselves.  Even if you are dating the dump-ee as opposed to the dump-er, in their eyes, you are still just the obstacle standing between true love and happiness.

I didn’t fear that they would hate me on sight; because I’d experienced the harridan first hand.  You can fool some of the people some of the time, but I’m figuring they would have picked up that she was a pushy cow at some stage.

For the squeeze, he had it easy in some respects; harder in others.  He had no ex of any import to be compared to.  My last ‘partner’ was a narcissist and made my life hell.  My sister once sent him an email imploring him as ‘a human being to a toad’ to stay the hell away from me.  As you can imagine, the squeeze didn’t have a lot to live up to.

The ‘against’ would be my deplorable taste in men; put one self-centred prick in a room of men and yep, you guessed it – that’s the one I’m leaving with.  Why?  No idea, but after the last one which cost me five years of hell, I decided to find out.  For the first time ever, I spent quite a long time on my own; trying to work it out.

No light flashed in my head.  I wasn’t struck by lightning nor did I fall and strike my head while designing a flux capacitor.  I just spent time thinking about what I wanted; what I needed; and what was not good for me.  I changed my perspective.

For my family, given that there was no evidence to state that I had actually found the answer, I took my time introducing him.  Eventually, I figured I could turn up with Quasimodo or even Hannibal Lector – and that would be an improvement on the last.

He also took his time in the introduction circle.

My first meeting with his family happened on my birthday, which also happens to be his mother’s birthday.  I figured this should be relatively easy.  We are both Geminis; communicators. 

There was a brother and wife, both nice and friendly.  There was a niece, with brand new baby – which provided me with some camouflage as I walked about the place rocking it and trying to look inconspicuous.

It was relaxed.  Football was on the television; Geelong was playing.  Other than introductions, I don’t think there was any form of communication between the two Geminis in the squeeze’s life.  In fact, she sounded rather scary snarly.

Eventually, the squeeze turned to the television and said ‘turn that up a bit’ and happened to mention to the room that as I was raised in Geelong, football wise, I would always follow the Cats.  At this point, I finally had his mother’s attention. 

She gave me one look, and then muttered “Geelong.  Hate people from Geelong!” 

Then she proceeded to sip her cup of tea where I am sure she missed my grin at the squeeze.  It was such an outlandish thing to say, I couldn’t help but find it funny.