Friday, June 15, 2012

The Match.com Project: Filling Out The Dating Profile


It is Sunday night, and it’s time to sign up for my new life. I’m so nervous; I imagine this is how someone would feel when they are going to break into a house. But if I want to attract a real-life Armie Hammer, I am going to need to make the best profile ever, right?

Oh, maybe not. Upon entering the sight, there is a banner that reads, “It’s free to look!” And look, I shall. After entering that I am a woman seeking a male. And that I’m 24. And that he is 25-35. And has a college degree. And taller than 6’0”. And wait a minute, I’m creating a profile. NO! What if they know I’m looking?! My fingers graze my pristine keyboard for a about a minute, wondering if I should take the plunge. I finally take a deep sigh and finish answering the questions. It’s okay, right? It’s not like there are a ton of guys lining up for me now.


I try to keep my profile info short and sweet – short enough as not to give away my life story (and scare everyone off), but sweet enough to get them hooked (and pretend that I’m kind of normal). My choice of default picture is simple; it was taken with my webcam and as much as I wanted to use Photoshop, I didn’t do it for fear of making me look… well, not like myself.

I get to the box that asks me to describe myself and what I’m looking for in a man, and I went blank. Describe myself? I think I’m cute, but not gorgeous? Smart, but not a genius? And what I want in a man?

Good grief, I just want a guy that’s taller than me when I wear heels! Is that so much to ask for? After freaking out about my lack of self-description, I casually mention that I’m “fun” and “easy-going” and apparently, super cliché. As I write a few words about how awesome I appear to be, I close my statement with “I want a guy to prove they are not all the same.” Once I finished it, I wanted to gag myself. Who do I think I am – Marilyn Monroe? But it was the truth… I just want one guy to prove that maybe I’ll have a husband, family, nice diamond ring, and above all, love. And this is why I’m single.

After giving Match the bare minimum amount of information possible, I begin searching. After the first two pages of potential matches (displaying ten per page), I took a deep breath and shook my head. Not one of these guys fit the bill – too short, a little too overweight, doesn’t have a college degree, not a Catholic, missing teeth, older than my grandpa, improper use of grammar, types with “u” instead of “you.” This is hopeless already.

I was about to close the window when I accidentally clicked on the next page and saw a familiar face: another high school boyfriend. NO WAY! You mean to tell me that since we broke up years ago, we have dated every person between Texas and New York, only to come full circle and turn to a dating service to find us a match? Oh NO! I didn’t even like him that much the first time, and this is all that my choices have been diluted to. GREAT.

A part of me fears that once he finds my profile, he might think I’m pathetic. But that’s like the teapot calling the kettle black, so who knows? Maybe this is worth giving a shot and even though it’s unlikely I’ll end up back with Mr. Salutatorian 2005, there is a chance for friendship renewal. Of course, the other part of me is saying that my ex-boyfriend-slash-college-sweetheart-slash-love-of-my-life was right about the whole idea and thinks I should stick to meeting people the old fashioned way: awkward first encounters.

Or maybe… just maybe, this new venture may light a fire under someone’s butt to snatch me up before I become Ms. Popularity on Match.

Be sure to stay tuned for the next article coming soon in The Match.com Project.

Image: Source

1 comments:

  1. Thanks so much for this series! I recently broke up with my boyfriend of two years, and although I'm not looking to date right away, I can tell you know I'm awkward and may have a hard time doing so! So many people have said negative things about online dating, but honestly, I see what you're doing as extremely brave. Kudos!

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