The idea of being loved for who I really am, rather than who I’m not, seemed pretty logical, so I trawled through pages of psychological questioning on one of the dating websites on my shortlist. I have been thoroughly interrogated. My. Head. Hurts.
Amongst many, many other things, I have been asked to grade myself on a variety of topics such as: where I am on a scale between being spontaneous and liking routine, only a few pages later to be asked where I am on a scale between not liking routine and being averse to spontaneity. They have been playing with my mind, they have been trying to trick me. Who are they? What do they really want?
I was ready to start repeating my name, rank and serial number was it not for the promise of what lay ahead…(drum-roll)…my ‘matches’. Yes. A glowing group of fabulous guys who had also made it through the questioning with their lives and minds just about intact…the holy grail of chaps chosen just for me because we ‘matched’, because we would love each other for who we really are, because we were in harmony.
There was a bright light, church bells were ringing, I had somewhere in the process decided on white over ivory and I was there, ready, willing, able and all in a lather, braced to see the dozens of handsome, charming men I would be positively torn between choosing. It was almost too much to bear.
Six…there were six…six men. Yes, only six. One less than seven and most definitely in single figures, count them on one hand and a thumb, blahdy blah. And, if my disappointment about this meager number was not enough (surely there had to be more than six available men compatible with me!), then came the greatest blow of all – until I handed over my hard earned cash I wouldn’t even get to see what these six men looked like! Breath. Not. Being. Caught.
The chances of them being the stunt doubles of Brad, George, Keanu, Johnny, Jake and Will were pretty slim and they were more likely the full size versions (if I was lucky) of six of the seven dwarfs. The site promised me I would see my matches for free, that was my reward for all the questions, they promised, they never mentioned I would not see their faces!
Now call me old-fashioned but a face is actually rather important when it comes to initial attraction – it is after all the thing you will mostly be looking at when in a relationship with the person that the face belongs to (in normal everyday fully-clothed circumstances of course). Does this make me shallow? Should I take my chances on a faceless man?
For now, my search continues…