As I explained in my blog about IFS-informed Dating and Dating The Day Democracy Died, I learned a ton about myself and my own parts by going on about thirty first dates before I wound up with my current partner Jeffrey Rediger, who I met at a trauma conference we were both keynoting. Even though I didn’t meet someone long term on eHarmony, Match.com, or Bumble (the three sites I tried), I don’t regret that wonderful experience in self-discovery. And I mostly met really great people and had a lot of fun, since I’d never really shopped for humans before.
I only had one regrettable experience, but even that one taught me a lot (and cost me two therapy sessions to process it.) So I want to tell you about it, in case you’re thinking about online dating and curious how it can turn out.
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I was looking forward to my date with the guy I’ll call Calvin. He was a very articulate, scholarly, intelligent university professor, as well as a Civil Rights activist and former Olympian. He was also tall, dark, and handsome (more than half of my dates were with BIPOC men, because a part of me was just over the white male fragility of cis, white, hetero guys.) Before our first date, we chatted about our passions around social justice, African American women’s literature, academic freedom, and my former mentors Skip Gates and Toni Morrison.
It was January 2022, Covid still on the loose, vaccines not yet available. He wanted to meet in his Pacific Heights neighborhood and assured me days before our date that he would have just been to a small party the night before that required everyone to get Covid tested- and he was negative. This was when it was still hard to get Covid tests, so that made my safety conscious parts feel more comfortable. He’d told me we were going out for an outdoor breakfast, but when I got to the address he gave me, it was a private house that turned out to be his.
When I asked how the party went, he seemed confused. “What party?”
“The one you were going to that required Covid-testing.”
“Oh, that one. It got cancelled. But don’t worry. I used the Covid test I’d found anyway. I’m negative.” A part of me felt suspicious that he’d made up the story about the party to try to override my Covid hesitations and then had forgotten his lie. Another part of me attacked me for being paranoid and distrusting.
My safety-conscious part hadn’t intended to go inside any buildings, especially the home of a man I just met. But my compliant part took over when the part of me that had decided not to risk indoor exposures or put myself at risk of sexual assault froze. I realized that this part has no trouble being assertive when it has time to think about consequences, but when presented with a bait and switch, it was too surprised to hold the boundary without much warning.
I found myself inside a palatial historic San Francisco Victorian home with beautiful crown moldings and stained glass windows. He’d obviously put effort into trying to impress me. He’d opened expensive champagne and had it chilling on ice, along with exquisite looking pastries and fresh berries, with classical music playing in the background. I refused the bubbly (it was 10am) but enjoyed the berries.
It didn’t take him long to come towards me for some physical contact, but I reminded him of what I’d said ahead of time to manage his expectations, that I would not be kissing him or getting physical with him on a first date, no matter how much I liked him. He started massaging my shoulders but a more assertive part of me asked him again to stop, suggesting that we move forward as planned, to go out for breakfast.
He took me to the most beautiful bakery I’ve ever seen and asked me to order anything I liked, not just for breakfast, but for my daughter, for later, anything, no limit.
I’ve never dated a wealthy man before, so this was surprising and delighting to parts of me that are exhausted by the financial stress of being a boot-strapping entrepreneur responsible for other people’s salaries and being the financial provider for my family. I had a part that felt guilty for even considering taking him up on his offer. I wound up choosing a middle path between the modest breakfast croissant I was thinking of ordering and the shopping bag of treats my pastry-loving part was drooling over. I ordered an egg dish for myself, a lavender shortbread for my daughter, and one tiny French pastry for dessert for my sweet tooth part.
He pushed me to order more and when I didn’t do so, he told the baker to package up a shopping bag for me and spent over $100 filling it, handing it over to me.
“You have to try these things,” he said, forking over his favorites. I accepted the bag but a skeptical part wondered whether there were strings attached.
I’d hoped we would stay and eat outside the bakery on the sidewalk tables, but he told me he had another idea for where we’d eat. Then he walked me back to his house. Once again, I felt baited and switched and the part of me with clear boundaries froze in the surprise again.
A sycophantic individual entered the room, serving champagne despite my refusal. I felt pressured to drink it, succumbing to his manipulative energy. It was unsettling how he tried to portray himself as a savior figure, coaxing me into a vulnerable state with his words.
Although I was aware of his tactics, a younger part of me fell for his facade, seeking comfort and care. He preyed on this vulnerability, making inappropriate advances despite my protests. My inner conflict between desire for affection and protection from harm intensified.
I allowed a kiss momentarily, giving in to physical longing, but quickly regained control of the situation. As tears welled up, his predatory behavior became more evident. With the support of my discerning self, I confronted him and sought more information about his past.
His strained relationship with his daughter revealed his true nature, deflecting blame and showing a lack of empathy. His pushy behavior as I tried to leave further solidified my discomfort. I stood my ground, asserting boundaries and leaving the situation behind.
Seeking solace in therapy, I confronted my emotions and found strength in my inner self. The experience served as a reminder to trust my instincts and prioritize my safety. We carefully outlined all the details of that particular date, and I felt much more grounded in my sense of self once we were finished. As I drove home, I found myself bombarded with enthusiastic texts from Calvin, eager to plan another date despite our distance. After some introspection in therapy, a part of me that trusted myself, in my true essence, agreed to a second date, even though I had reservations.
However, as the date approached, Calvin’s attitude shifted. His mockery of my suggestions and insistence on his own preferences made me question his sincerity. It became evident that he only wanted things his way, with him in control. With the support of my inner self and parts, I decided to cancel the date without hesitation.
His subsequent hurtful messages only confirmed my decision, and I was able to stand firm against his insults, comforting my wounded parts. Despite his attempts to manipulate me, I maintained my boundaries and cut off contact with him.
Although that one date was challenging, it led to valuable insights and growth. It inspired new therapy sessions and even led to the creation of online classes focused on boundaries and self-empowerment. This experience has shaped my approach to dating and continues to influence my work in helping others navigate similar situations. Please rewrite the following statement.