Leave a note...
Thank you! Your submission has been received!
Oops! Something went wrong while submitting the form.
.jpg)
I took a weekend trip to Peregian with my girlfriends so the Bumble dating app broadened the search fields to include the Sunshine Coast. That was the first sliding doors moment. Had I not opened the app during our Harry Potter marathon the following sequence of events would not have occurred.
Enter John.
Tall, dark, handsome, mid-30s entrepreneur with ridiculously good hair and butt (which he’ll tell me all about later). Please learn from my mistakes and question everything about someone who calls you their ‘favourite person in the world’ when they haven’t met you yet – in hindsight, that was the first red flag. A few texts were exchanged followed by our very first date. 3 course dinner, copious cocktails and a final late-night stop at the casino bar. Despite not having a lot of skin in the dating game I couldn’t imagine that first dates got much better, particularly for someone who had just come out of a long-term relationship. I seriously thought I’d hit the jackpot. This date was so good in fact that I got home at 7am and had to jump on a video call at 8am. As my face appeared on the screen my boss said that I looked like Rudolph so I said that I was coming down with something and we both said nothing about the fact that I was quite obviously lying. In reality – my nose was so red from all the kissing and I was wearing a scarf to hide a hickey that looked like something out of jaws. The last time I had a hickey was at Schoolies and I honestly didn’t know people older than 17 were still doing that. Are they still doing that? Please advise.
The weeks rolled on and Dirty John and I hung out every weekend – laughing, drinking and having fun. I found him to be sweet and exciting and took it as a good sign that he had introduced me to his brother early on in the piece. I thought to myself “I could really get used to this”. John had quite literally charmed the pants off me and in my post engagement break-up state of mind, I genuinely thought that perhaps the Universe had thrown me a bone. A bone dressed immaculately in a fresh white tee and Gucci loafers. A bone that, given my past relationship, I truly thought I deserved. So rather than question it I just accepted the Universes good graces and started to seriously consider what a whole life with Dirty John would look like. Until one weekend this gift from the Universe tells me he’s ‘too tired’ to catch up which at the time seemed fair – we had been seeing a lot of each other. Sunday rolls around though and I get a text from a girlfriend, “Hey Jess, does the John you’re seeing live on the Coast?”. Turns out Dirty John had caught a second wind and spent the night throwing what I foolishly thought was MY bone to someone else. We might not always like social media but at that moment I was thankful to Instagram for pointing out our mutual friends.
At this point you’re probably thinking that I cut him loose but that wouldn’t make for a good story now would it? Once again I simply thought…fair enough. We weren’t ‘officially dating’ yet and hadn’t made plans for exclusivity, so no rules broken. Just a bit of a dick move when he’d been texting me that morning to say how horny he was and couldn’t imagine life without me LOL. As I write this I’m slowly realising that every time a Red Flag shows up I tend to respond with ‘New phone, who dis?’ as if I’ve never seen it before.
Naturally the previously mentioned sequence of events resulted in us needing to define what this was i.e. We needed to make like Zac Efron and ask “Are we officially dating yet?” to which we both said a resounding yes.
The first official weeks were the best but for the most part, I guess they always are. Then slowly but surely a few things started to emerge.
As we delved into our past it turned out that:
Dirty John’s first girlfriend (who was 20 years older than him) was a gambling addict and would casually spend $120,000 a night putting everything on black. Apparently this was a habit John picked up which subsequently turned into a ‘self-imposed ban’ from every nearby casino. An interesting piece of information given our first date finished at the casino? *Hey Jess, it’s Red Flag calling. Are you free to talk?*
John eventually disclosed that he was required to have a breathalyser installed in his car because he had a heavy drink driving history. He got around this by having his car paid for and registered under an ex-girlfriends name. *Hey Jess, I get that you’re busy but I really need to speak with you. Call me back? Xoxo, Red Flag*.
He had his ex’s name tattooed on his chest. *Jess I haven’t been able to get in touch with you. Are you there?? Xoxo, Red Flag*
He found it difficult to secure rental properties because his name was black-listed “due to the cleaners not doing a good enough job at his last place”. *I’M CALLING YOUR MUM. Red Flag*.
He had a kid that he barely saw which didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. “I’m not entirely sure if I’m the father”, he’d say. *PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE JESSICA! RED FLAG*.
I know it sounds crazy but at the time I was ok with all of this. I just assumed that dating when you’re older means everyone comes with a past and at times, that can mean some seriously heavy baggage. This kind of reasoning served me well until John started pulling away. He said he felt disconnected to me during the week and that the 2-hour long distance was hard. Which I guess it was when you considered the fact that driving 2 hours in a car that wasn’t registered under his name and didn’t have a breathalyser attached could present as a problem for someone like him. John then cemented the disconnection that I’d apparently created by moving into a new place which according to him “didn’t allow couples”. If that’s not the sign of an impending break-up I don’t know what is? Maybe it was the part where he told me that my body was ‘ok’ but it would be ‘even better’ if I did cross fit. Or maybe it was the moments where he’d admire himself in the closest mirror or reflective surface. Could it have been the times where he would tell me how good his butt looked? Either way, it all ended with him saying we should have a break to which I said, I think we should break up.
As a parting gift, John in all his wisdom backed up by his immaculate dating record and life choices – decided to give me some feedback. It’s the first ever performance review I’ve received out of the office and I’m hoping it was the last. The highlights – use more heart in my decision making and manicure certain areas daily instead of weekly. Thirteen-year-old Dolly Magazine reading me was saying “I told you so, boys think hair is gross”. I should add that apart from being a pathological liar he was also a serial hair removalist. Not a smattering of hair anywhere apart from the luscious locks on his head. His words, not mine.
All of this aside, I have to admit that things were fun in the beginning. But sometimes when you’re so focused on the future life you might have with someone you forget to see what’s right in front of you. A million giant red flags begging you to acknowledge their existence.
Dating in your 30’s is hard. I remember reading a book called ‘Why 30s are not the new 20’s’ and how to make the most of your defining decade. Essentially there are 3 things.
1. Build identity capital – start investing in yourself and who you are.
2. Use your weak ties – look beyond your inner circle to influence who you are and the choices you make. The best opportunities often come from one ring out.
3. Start choosing your family now.
I guess the importance of this in relation to my story is that I feel lucky to have chosen my family young. In fact, I chose them in grade 7 and they are my closest girlfriends. They represent the constant relationships that I can always rely on in the ever-changing dating game. Maybe that one person will come along and maybe they won’t but I’m forever thankful to my beautiful friends who always make my heart feel full.
What I’ve learnt about dating when you’re older is that people really do show up with baggage. What I’ve learnt about baggage is that there’s a tangible difference between an overnight bag and a suitcase, especially if it’s missing 3 wheels and a handle. Dirty John has taught me that I’m no longer interested in being the kind of girl who will ride with you until the wheels fall off, turns out I’m looking for stability.
New phone, who dis? Not anymore.
Narrators voice: Just after writing this, Jessica did meet someone. Coincidentally his name is also John. John 2.0. Details to come.
With love, always
J (on behalf of J 😉)
