Vol. 1, Post #21 The Gambler

Know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em. My ongoing sex tips for girls* (*girls who are holding on to mid-life by a thread). A modern dating odyssey for Young Olds, AKA, people with readers.

Last week’s post about liars and mean girls generated A LOT of chatter, reposts, and private messages to me, and also include an excellent question by my Dear Reader Alyce, who wrote this in the comments section:

Alyce was asking about my advice to a friend to just ignore a guy who ghosted her (instead of chewing him out), in contrast to my own action of sending a flamer of a text message to a dipshit who had behaved badly. Alyce wanted to know — why ignore one kind of bad behavior and yet call out another kind, with a bullet?

I’ll summarize what I wrote to Alyce, which is that in dating, if someone ghosts you, there’s no need to let them know they’ve behaved badly. They KNOW they’ve behaved badly and you tearing them a new asshole does nothing more than reinforce that their actions have hurt you — which they also know. Which they care nothing about (or, which they DO care about, but they lack the fortitude or ability to do their work and return to you a more complete partner). So, for all of those reasons, if they ghost you*, my advice is to stay silent as you count your NUMEROUS blessings about how this could’ve been worse.

*Remember when I referenced Do The Work podcast, created by that hottie Sabrina Zohar a few posts ago? She’s a dating coach who deals with “anxiety while dating” and as I mentioned, I’m following a bunch of dating coaches as part of my ongoing research for this Substack. Sabrina defines ghosting as someone who disappears into thin air after you two have been dating/hooking up/fucking on the regular. She makes a distinction between that and someone who just goes dark after one date — that’s not ghosting, she says. That person, who you barely know, owes you nothing. I agree wholeheartedly. While it would be nice if everyone was a grownup and was able to say, “Thanks but no thanks” regarding another date, the fact is, when you begin to date, you are strangers and strangers owe each other nothing.

Ok, back to what Alyce brought up. In my mind, there are two exceptions to the rule of saying nothing when faced with an asshole and their assholery.

First, is their behavior so outrageous, so out of line, so show-stopping that you need to say something to prevent any ADDITIONAL assholery from going on? If yes, say whatever you’d like. It may fall on deaf ears. It may have the opposite effect. It may switch them off like a light. So if you believe you are hurtling towards DEFCON BONKERS, feel free to do whatever you need to do to shut it down. THAT ^^^^ was why I responded to Mister Grower Not A Shower the way I did (highlighted in last week’s column). I wanted to be sure he’d never reach out to me again and likewise, not to continue to lie about our interactions.

The second exception to the rule is based in both tenderness and compassion — for yourself. If someone has really deeply hurt you, wronged you, disturbed The Force (DID I JUST MAKE A STAR WARS REFERENCE? I THINK I MIGHT HAVE!), and you feel like you cannot move ahead in your healing unless you get a few things off of your chest, I’m in favor of sending a letter or an email and explaining why what went down is simply not acceptable. NOT a text. And, not to be idealistic, but a sentiment like this would probably be best delivered in person, unless that’s not possible or it would get you too riled up. Again, be warned that just because you need to get something off of your chest, it still might fall on deaf ears or have the opposite effect, and I’d also STRONGLY suggest that this same letter or email can be written and never sent (because that often feels just as good). If you’re not eating, sleeping, able to work, etc., because of someone else’s bad behavior and its impact on you, and you feel like the only solution is to share your thoughts with that person as a way of letting it go, there’s your answer.

Naturally ^^^this entire discussion has me thinking about the OG philosophical mind on this.

Now, let’s shift slightly to a related but separate train of thought, OK?

I’m in a social media group on Facebook that I refer to in shorthand as my “Feminists Over 40” posse (I need to now shout out my pal Michael, who LOVES this shorthand. We can be in a convo with any group of people, telling stories, yucking it up, and if I start to tell a story about the group, all I have to do is poke him in the ribs and he will immediately say, “Feminists Over 40? Is this a FO40 story?” — so Michael, THIS IS ONE OF THOSE STORIES!) In this group last week, someone brought up Burned Haystack Dating, which is a method created by English professor and writer Jennie Young that encourages women to be more mindful about who they interact with in online dating apps — you can read more about it here. I can see lots of pros and very few cons to her rationale, even though I haven’t done a deep dive.

On this FO40 Facebook thread, where various people were sharing opinions of Haystacking, I chimed in with my own methodology, which is based SOLELY on what works for me, but one of the women in the group replied to my comment like this:

“Activation.” Let’s discuss.

There was a time in my life, while dating, when I wouldn’t WANT to proceed with a future date if I wasn’t activated. It seems semi-immature - and it’s quite possible I was suffering from emotional immaturity, because, as I stated in my first post here, I’ve been partnered in some way or another since I was in college and while most of you were running wild, fucking yourselves silly in your twenties, I met my first spouse literally months after college graduation at age 22, broke up with my then-boyfriend to be with him, and we were together until I was nearly 40. I got married young (25), had one of the first babies in my friend set (31), and was among the first to get divorced (38). I left that first marriage for my next partner, with whom I’d spend ten years. And we know the rest of the story, right? Another three partners with whom I spent multiple years cohabitating or seeing seriously. The fact is, I realize there have only been two periods of my adult life when I was “casually” dating, trying people on for size — one from late 2015 until early 2017 and another from 2022 through 2024** — and that is not a whole lot of time in which to figure out “how” to date successfully as a grown up. Basically, my dating POV was “Is this hot? Is it making me hot? Great, more please.”

**My last relationship was still happening in 2022-2024 and was nearly three years old when it ended, but during those three years, we had a series of starts and stops based around polyamory (me), and a lack of a formal separation agreement combined with a whole lot of nonsense that passes between two people who dislike each other but run a business together (him). What WAS consistent in our relationship? Our undying need to fuck each other’s brains out. To say we “activated” each other is like saying that I only semi-enjoy this IG:

If you didn’t understand before, you undoubtedly understand now why it was so important for me to take off the late fall, winter, and most of the spring to do some deep soul searching around how I wanted to date going forward.

One of the things that I realized in my “going dark” period was that most (MOST) of the traits I had looked for in a potential lover or partner were based in endorphin rushes, the stronger the rush, the deeper I felt the pull. And while that passion, that tickling your dick with a feather, is a GREAT feeling, it creates a false sense of connection.

When I decided to return to dating about two months ago, I promised myself that I would be HEAVILY policing my own behavior for any signs that I’d be gaga-before-proof-that-gaga-was-warranted. This includes keeping an eye out for men who:

• Are overly artsy, overly nomadic, overly temperamental, overly complicated, overly lone wolf-esque.

• Hate their parents, their exes, their jobs, or similar. In other words, if a man I met had some issues around topics like this and were showing no signs of DEALING with those issues, that is also a No Thanks.

• Are not interested in the same kind of relationship that I want. Ultimately, I want a partner. I don’t feel any need to rush to find that partner, but I’m not interested in long-term casual. At all.

• Are not truly overjoyed to be spending some time with me. That seems like it should be a no-brainer but if I’m being completely honest with myself, there have been times when I’ve met alluring men who I knew would be “work” and I’ve signed up for that work. NOTHING could be less compelling at this point.

What I realized, with a tiny bit of a startled “holy fuck” is that I used to find emotionally charged complications or dark, broody corners of the male mind pretty attractive. And without those things in the mix? Well, there was a time when I would’ve been slightly bored.

Today, I can’t think of a single reason for me to run away faster than PRECISELY what used to make me want to bat my eyelashes and say, “Tell me about it, Stud.”

Maybe that’s why dating has been so easy and so very pleasant in this chapter. There is nothing that is making me jumpy, nothing that is making me question my motives (or anyone else’s), nothing that keeps me watching my phone for “the text” or “the call,” nothing that makes me wonder if my dates find me delicious, nothing that makes me feel anything less than desired or adored or captivating.

Here’s an example of this, in real time, because aren’t we lucky! A case study in motion! I was at dinner with my sweeties Suzanne and Audrey back in March. We were among the last to leave the restaurant on that cold winter night (everything rolls up early in Woodstock in the off season) and on our way out, we made some idle chatty chat with the guys at the next table, who were also paying their bill. One of them said something semi-flirty to me and I returned his serve, with extra top spin (I am making a tennis joke. One day I will start to play again). Long story short, dude followed me out of the restaurant, stood by my car talking to me for a bit, and I gave him my number, assuming he wouldn’t call and, knowing it wouldn’t matter anyway since I was in no shape to date, or to even throw him a fuck. Just wasn’t in the mood. Well, he did call, and we had several subsequent conversations. During the last one, he invited me to coffee in the city and I met up with him, again, not quite knowing what the endgame was here, for either of us. He, it turned out, is married and his wife lives abroad. They are in a state of perma-separation, but she needs to maintain a US address and he is a nightlife guy who is making a career change and doesn’t have time “to deal” with any waves right now. That was all I needed to know. Coffee was over and I wished him well. He asked if we could see each other again and I said, “Nah, not this lifetime. I don’t date married men.” I assumed that was the end of that. Tonight, the phone rang (it’s a few days before I’ll publish this). Mr. Nightlife. We exchange a little bit of small talk, he asks if I’m “ready” for dating yet (I had told him in March that I was sidelined) and when I say “Yes, I’m dating and in fact, I’m dating someone that I like,” what he hears is “Make your move.” He tells me that he’s throwing a private party at Blah Blah Blah club next week and did I want to come and lest I think that I’d be one of many women he is inviting, he’s asking me to meet him before the party for dinner, so he can tell me, among other things, about how he’s made changes, set up his wife in her own place (I don’t need to go on, right?) so basically, he’s free to do what he likes.

“That all sounds really good,” I said. “Good luck with that. I’m not available.”

He asked, “Oh, is there a better night to go out? If you can’t make the party, I mean.”

I told him, “No it’s not the party. It’s the whole thing. I’m not available for that.”

We talked for a few more minutes and finally, I heard him understand me. That no, it’s not that Thursday the 20th is booked, it’s that I’m not interested in anything he’s offering me now or Thursday the 20th, or, basically, ever. And then we said good-bye like grownups and hung up.

Ta-da!

I feel like my IG dancing fool-as-crush up there ^^^ in that bathroom video. I have indeed learned when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em. And to my Lady Comrades who are having a tough time with a bad boy, a decent but non-committal guy, a generally pathetic lose-lose proposition, an endlessly captivating waste of time, or anything in-between…ah, the internet…enjoy this gem that popped up as I went to hit “publish”…