I kissed bumble goodbye

Yes, I’ve already written about it once.

About how Bumble just isn’t for me.  How it just feels …. off.

(I mean, all dating is pretty bizarre at this stage of life – right?)

But I also have never actually used Bumble before – more like, just looked at the pictures.

But then, you know, you have a day when you just think – well, what could it hurt?

So you spend a few minutes and you right swipe a few people and you begin a pseudo get to know you virtual word exchange.

And it still feels . . . like the wrong direction.

Here’s the thing.

I’m reminded of a book I read earlier this summer – The Principle of the Path.

That profoundly simple idea.

If I don’t want a story that begins with the sentence, “I met him on a dating app” then I should not be on a dating app.

Please, friends, remember that this is a post about my decision. It is NOT an indictment of your decision or your choices. Personal freedom, you guys. Let’s embrace it.

Back to the topic.

Bumble – it’s like one more thing you’re tempted to scroll through.

One more thing you’re tempted to keep up with.

One more thing you’re tempted to check daily.

I don’t want my kids to remember that the most about me.  Or – at all about me.

It’s so messy though, so much more complicated and let me tell you, married friends who are my age or close to it, I imagine most of you are thinking what I would have thought five years ago. Uh. Yuck.  My legalistic heart would have been privately judging anything remotely related to an app like Bumble. Probably thinking it’s pretty awful actually.  And also – not being able to imagine a situation where it could even have a role in my life.

And I get that.

I’m not saying I don’t understand that.  I was you too.

But I’m not you now.

Now I am divorced. Wrecked by the choices my former husband and my good friend made. Undone in so many ways. Dragged through financial upheaval and emotional hell.

That’s all true.

I have emerged with new eyes and a different song and a straight up different day to day life than I had ever imagined I would have.

Also all true.

So yes – I see the world differently now.  I see divorce differently.

I still hate it.

But things get blurry when you live them.  Black and white shifts a little to gray.

And I guess that comes with the territory.

(I’m not talking about actual Truth. That stays black and white. I’m talking about how we see things and what we once thought before life served us a helping of unfair.)

Often I think of the Annie Dillard quote that goes something like this – “Every decision we make is a vote for the kind of world we want to live in.”

This is a vote.

We get a vote. With our very lives.

Like at the grocery store – like our family was reminded recently while viewing the documentary Food Inc.

And like in relationships.

I get a vote.

And my vote might mean I am alone relationally.

Okay.

I vote that.

I’m not saying you’re wrong for voting for Bumble yourself.  I just don’t want to do it.

I don’t want to text about whatever random tidbit a stranger and I can latch on to and I don’t want to begin a sentence with “I met him on Bumble” and I get to pick that. It’s my choice and my vote for the sort of life I want to live.

While I’m on this rant, here’s another thing . . .

I also don’t ever want to start a sentence with “I met my husband when he was married to another woman.”

I get to pick that too.

Same principle.  Same path.

It’s why I don’t generally text married men without their wives on the text thread. I schedule work meetings at just about the same public spot every time so my friends and acquaintances can see and assume – yes, another above board work meeting. It’s a choice I get to make for the sort of world I want to live in.

I’m just this one person. (My friend told me that’s her catch phrase for her life this busy summer.)

It’s a good catch phrase for all of our lives.

I’m just one person.

It’s not just an explanation for why I can’t be in eight places on the same day and why my kids can’t play soccer, cross country and chess club in the same season.

I’m just one person.

I’m just one person also can convey a hope – I’m just one person and this is my choice to make my little one person difference.  My little one person vote for the life I want to live and the world I want to help craft and curate. The world I want my kids to grow up in and the world I want my grandchildren to grow up in.

I’m just one person and I’m just one person saying goodbye to any form of online dating.

Just the one vote, friends.

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