Here I am, alone in Texas. Aside from my step-son’s mom, who was and always is a close friend I cherish, and one other friend in Fort Worth, I had no one. My family and lifelong friends live in Toronto Canada. And most of the people I knew were my former husband’s family.
Post-divorce, there is a social separation of varying degrees. First, I had to get used to living alone again. I’m not a snowflake. I don’t mean to whine about it. But for 7.5 years my days were engaged in married life and all the routines of it. The natural collaborations of sharing your life with a spouse. And two incredible, adorable young men, who own my heart.
I’m not going to lie. The adjustment was brutal for me. Moving from a small town back to a big city. Getting used to being a single woman living alone with my dogs. The liberation of leaving the toxicity of the failed relationship behind was good. But in its place, loneliness, sometimes fear for my safety in Austin (I live on the Eastside and it’s a little rough here in ‘da hood’). Pandemic concerns. Social distancing. The city was full of fun things to do. And I really did none of them.
The Divorce Transition and Loss of My Aunt Took Me Down
Some people come barreling out of their married life determined to party, have sex, and make bad decisions tied to their liberation. I didn’t feel that way. I felt emotionally dead. Numb. Afraid of the weight of the emotions of loss, as they ate through my confidence and sense of well-being.
I pulled into myself and isolated. Trying to rebuild my sense of who I was. I briefly dated two people. One remains a close friend I cherish. But when you live alone, and you don’t know anyone, where do you start? As a vivacious gregarious kind of human, I needed people. But I was also feeling uncharacteristically shy and withdrawn.
I had a hard time forgiving myself for failing at marriage the second time. I blamed myself even though well-meaning friends and family coached me through that. During this transition, my Aunt was declining rapidly. Cancer was taking one of the people I loved most. Painfully. She was suffering, and so was everyone who loved her more than life. I felt like I didn’t want to have fun or go out. My surrogate mother was suffering. I couldn’t get to her side. I couldn’t save her. And in the final days, we couldn’t even talk or text.
Two deaths. It was too much for me to bear. Only my best friend knew I was struggling. The mask I wore that I was ‘alright’ was effective. I was diagnosed with PTSD in July. Didn’t see that coming. Made sense though.
The Evasion of Joy and Social Connection While Processing Grief
Austin is a great city. It’s fast becoming California expensive by anyone’s standards, thanks to booming tech jobs and companies moving to the area. But there are many things about the city I love. It is not pretentious, but grounded and still very boho. Everyone embraces the ‘weird’ which is to say that Austin is a city that loves real people and creativity. It’s around every corner. And there are so many things to do.
I did none of them. I felt the punitive voice in my head telling me I didn’t deserve joy. Or happiness. My second marriage failed, so that was proof positive I was a bad human. My family suffered all summer with the pain my Aunt had to endure. I’m not kidding when I tell you I cried every day. I felt like everything I had loved with all my heart, was taken from me.
Looking at events, and buying tickets, and then not going. That was the pattern. I didn’t want to go alone. Ever go to a bar completely by yourself? Awkward AF for someone like me. Even though I am usually confident in social settings. Not shy to start a conversation and meet new people. But I had no flavor for it. I was grieving.
After the friend, that segued into dating, and then back to a friend, feelings were hurt. His. And I felt terrible about that too, that I didn’t feel the romantic chemistry to persist in dating him. I know he didn’t feel the same way. But because his feelings got hurt, it punctuated my negative self-narrative. I’m a bad person that can’t (and shouldn’t) have relationships.
Social Groups for Singles In Facebook
I knew that I couldn’t persist like this. In social isolation. Being single and trying to make new friends in the era of Covid-19? Fun. Because as someone who is immune-compromised, that was a risky endeavor. I had to make a decision. Persist this way and experience the brunt of loneliness and social isolation. Or be brave (and careful) and start to venture out.
So, I found some single groups on Facebook. I joined a few of them. Left some of them, and settled on one in Roundrock. That group of people seemed so lovely. Grounded, responsible, and very intelligent. Fun, good-hearted and positive personalities. The common thread was that we were all single, and looking for a special person to spend time with. But the group evolved into so much more than that.
I thought it might be like speed dating. Or a meat market. But as the good-humored memes and conversations started happening in the group, I got excited. PEOPLE! REAL PEOPLE! And open to not just dating, but companionship. Meeting other like-minded folks for fun events.
While we are all keeping our eyes open for that magical synchronicity with potential, social connections were not really focused on that. What I found instead, was social people in the midst of a pandemic, who needed other people. Some of them are single parents. Many divorced like me. But the humor and the depth of the conversations found me bathing in the social vibe again. And I loved it.
Benefits of Joining a Local Facebook Group
As a digital marketing professional, I have run groups for clients before. For private industry. But as an early adopter of Facebook (2007), I really had not done the social dive into groups. When I was single in my early thirties, I dated in Toronto. Actively. I think there were 77 “coffee dates” over a 7 year period. And then I remarried. The impetus wasn’t there because I wasn’t lonely.
But my experience with the Roundrock Single’s group on Facebook has been so positive. I have literally met wonderful women and men and started to know them. Attending a couple of events a week to fill that need for social relation. Of course, I was pretty nervous during the first two events. After all, you are walking into a room to spend time with people you don’t know. Hoping you recognize their picture from Facebook.
Luckily, people that have been around in the groups for some time, are pros. Look for the table with people having fun. And inevitably, someone will recognize you and wave you over. That feels (being mush) like a big hug. “Hey you, we know who you are, come on over and jump right in!” It’s a level of acceptance and social friendliness that washes over you, and feels really warm and beautiful.
Throughout the week, singles are keeping other singles company, in group chat. Laughing at memes. Sometimes having deep discussions about dating, relationships, good and bad experiences. It’s awesome.
Getting to Know Someone You Are Interested in Dating
Dating apps are masochistic. And I am going to leave that right there. Because the whole idea of window shopping for a human? Pictures can sometimes be faked. Profiles can be misleading. And there is always filtering out the people who aren’t looking for companionship. They are looking for drive-thru human takeout. Which is absolutely, not my flavor.
The way dating apps work is so impersonal. Chat via text. Then maybe, progress to phone conversations. Still interested? Schedule that awkward first date. It’s high stakes. The person could be boring, or dangerous, or a stalker or serial killer. I don’t mean to be negative, but a single woman has to consider these things. I read the news. Women are attacked all the time. Drugged at events and bad things happen. I am super cautious.
Consequently, while I was talking to quite a few men, I wasn’t finding anyone worthy of pursuing. Many men in my age group are, frankly female hating. Been burned too many times, and the term INCEL exists for a reason. The frustrated white male that vibes female hating, but really is just lonely, heartbroken, and desperate for that affection and companionship. I had an experience with a personality like that, and it hurt my feelings badly.
For all my sarcasm and joking around in group discussions, I am still a romantic. A big-hearted sensitive soul. If I let you in, please be respectful of my feelings as I am of yours. And if you do happen to do some damage, expect to be ghosted. There is no room in my life for hostility at any level.
Facebook groups have allowed me to make new friends. A boot camp for dating, watching and learning from other people. Their comments and discussions entertain and educate me. And the new acquaintances I have made, have given me a reason to look forward to the weekend again.
And that for me, is a really big deal. Hugs too. There are lots of hugs. And in the pandemic, when everyone is feeling so isolated and detached from normal social engagement, it feels warm, wonderful, and happy.
