Fish Flops on the Third Date

I was never the girl to dream of my wedding day, never the one to doodle my first name and my crush's last name when I should have been paying attention during lectures. I was strong, independent, and didn't need a man to complete me. That works well until you get to that point in your life when shit starts to fail. Parents health, the hot water tank, the dog got out again- all the moments when it would be really great to know you have someone that has your back. Forty is so very close, I've planned an epic Adam Sandler themed Taco Bell party and it would be cool to find the Valerie to my Nicky.

I've read all the articles and listened to all the podcasts so on to the apps I go! Fucking what? They want 4-6 pictures... of me?! My food pyramid has been a little top heavy these last two years and my wardrobe is best described as " dirty forest witch." Now I have to enlist others in this embarrassing plan. Turns out that none of my friends can take a single picture that complies with my simple requirements of one chin and two eyes in a picture of me. Asking my daughter to take pictures of me for a dating app has easily been the most humbling moment of my life. I got to see a teen's ability to crush their mother's dreams with few words and laughing so hard they wheeze in an instant. But she did it.

It took hundreds and hundreds of pictures over the course of 11 days where we did not have regular access to running water or a mirror... and she found 6 that didn't make her dry heave. I trusted her judgment and figured I was practicing authenticity at its finest. Did I agree with any of her choices? Not a bit. I am easily the least photogenic human on earth however, they give me the ability to give every single person the cute caveat that I will 100% look and smell better in person than in those photos.

But can I actually do that, I mean in a raised in the 80s-90s diet culture can I? I'm in a bathing suit and you can see my rolls. Those scars on my face are so damn present. Heck, my hair isn't brushed in a few and none of it matters because my fierce wild daughter is watching. I made a promise to myself when she was born that I would never make a single comment about bodies and the gorgeous way we are all different. My child with her lack of access to much of our society's influence said they look good, they look like me and that is all that matters.

I responded to the requested prompts with responses that others tell me I should keep locked away, uploaded those photos and immediately panicked as if I just passed a check yes or no note to my 12 year old crush. Those prompts? I only chose the ones where I could be as honest as humanly possible. I only want the folks who also dance on the line of madness.

Then my phone started dinging incessantly...

Who the hell are these weirdos who saw me, bathing suit accidental T Rex arm photos and all, read all about me winning an eating competition and said yes, that might be the one?!?

It may be my summer of worst first dates or it may be my summer of magic. Either way, I've got an order coming of outfits that are nicer than anything I own and I'm taking bets on whether or not anything fits and it's happening.

Let's find out together.

XX,

AF