Singlehood: It’s Not a Disease. “Nothing Serious”: Part 1

I’ve been thinking lately about a common phrase men have used (with me, anyway) after being recently divorced, separated, un-partnered, etc. and figuring out how to approach dating again. 

“Nothing serious.” 

The subtext: “I’m not ready to have the same horrifying experience I’ve only recently endured with my last serious relationshit.”

Yes, you read that correctly. Say it with me: Relation-shit.

I get it, Divorced Guy. Seriously.

There are scores of recently single men out there (single for less than two years, say) whose lives have been dragged down and wrung out through an indescribably painful ringer. Imagine a cartoonish male body being slowly flattened out by one of those old-timey, crank-operated washing machines from the days before electricity.

Be sure to throw his soul in there too, like a pair of underwear. 

It’s why I have a little policy for only dating a divorced man who’s at least two years out from when the ink dried on the “D” decree.

Yes, even for the gorgeous man with all the right ingredients. Damn.

For me, two years is the minimum time needed for renormalization. To become a whole individual again.

The emotional turmoil needs to have subsided. Money and child support arrangements need to have long settled. 

The new habits of single-parenting, separateness, and custody arrangements need to be in a comfortable groove for the man and any kid-lings still in tow who are younger than a college freshman. 

But above all… Any feelings of failure need at least two years to morph into a comforting realization: that divorcing was the only way to save his most important non-material possessions – his sanity, his sense of purpose, his unbothered, funny self, his desire for deeper meaning in the cosmically brief time we have on earth. 

And other ephemeral things too numerous to name.

But in a word: his peace. (And of course, his sports.)

A man trying to date too soon after a split from a long-term, covalent bond – before the above-described equilibrium has taken a foothold – is not doing himself any favors. His efforts to date someone new won’t be so much about moving toward a new person from a place of balance and healing.

Such effort will only be about forgetting his prior catastrophe, to “get over it.”

The new person would be merely a tool: a distraction from the residual emptiness that can set in after going through a long, slow, tearing of the heart. This is true despite any co-existing sense of relief. Pain and relief are not mutually exclusive and often run parallel.

For the new person pursued: she can sense it. He can’t fake it. Before two years, he’s not free enough from it. Ladies, trust your intuition. It’s your superpower. 

So for me, this Two-Year Rule is an effective borderline between two countries: between his prior, chaotic emotional landscape with a woman he eventually realized was wrong to keep sticking it out with… and a peace-infused future country he hopes to build with a future person. Or without one. 

To be fair, dating around before the two-year mark may have its place. 

But only if his divorce date is disclosed to the other party, and her consent is first obtained. No crime in being social, or out with friends. But her consent is a big deal. It means that Divorced Guy is actually required to be aware of where he’s at in the process of his return from the bottom. And to be willing to speak it out loud. 

If he’s not… my thought-bubble is, “Gosh, Divorced Guy, I’m flattered, but feel free to circle back in, say, your Divorce Date + two years.” 

Being social is a fair hedge against falling back into the dark, screaming abyss from which Divorced Guy has been trying to emerge. It’s an uphill battle for him, clawing his way to the surface, bleeding over the shards of broken dreams, like the prisoner in Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave.” (I take some literary license here – Plato’s prisoner actually remains in the dark. One can only hope he eventually turns around.)

The Allegory may be the best short essay every divorced person should read. (If only for the incisive optics, where Plato describes the physics of light, illusion, and how these shape our understanding of reality.) 

I’d give it the Oscar for Best Metaphor for Life ever written in under five pages. It’s either the Allegory, or Albert Camus’ “The Myth of Sisyphus.” 

It may be a tie.

I’ve also been musing over a possible four-date minimum. Many establishments require a two-drink minimum… Why not explore a four-date contract, with a list of amusing provisions, a mutual escape-clause after Date 1, and an option to renew (or not) after Date 4? No hard feelings.

What’s the worst that could happen? (My motto for most of my life decisions.) 

So yes, I’d support a four-date minimum if I were attracted to Divorced Guy + 2 years… because I’d like my next date (or four) to be hilarious.

Seriously.

(To be continued…)