Well, hello! It’s nice to meet you. I thought I’d reach out because it’s rare for someone to go to such great lengths to meet me. Since my divorce, some are having a hard time knowing what to say, but not you, eHarmony. You’re in my newsfeed, Gmail account and sidebar ads, waving your online arms, saying “Hey Becca! Over here! Check out online dating! Join us!” You are apparently extremely confident in my date-ability so I thought I’d check in and get your advice.
Let’s not discuss the actual dating part because I put on mascara this morning and a panic attack would ruin this herculean effort. Let’s just chat about this profile you want me to create.
Here’s my question, eHarm – how much of my truth should I throw out there? Should I be a little generic and side-step a a few important details? Adopt a “put your best, most appealing foot forward, and leave the rest of the varicose-veined leg for later” philosophy? A Watered-Down Becca profile?
Or should I throw it all on the table and own my humanness like a boss. Let these manly candidates get a look at my baggage and decide if they have any interest in being in the same room with it. No auto-tuning, no smoothing out the sharp edges, just Becca Unplugged.
I wrote both, eHarmony. What do ya think?
Watered-Down Becca: Hi.
Becca Unplugged: To the Complete Strangers Reading and Judging My Profile Who I Will Most Likely Never Meet, here’s what you should know. I think.
I’m a self-employed professional.
I work for myself because I like to work at 2am, or from my kitchen, or while singing Uptown Funk. I have a house with furniture that is not inflatable. It would be great if you, random dating candidate, did not sleep on a futon. Real silverware is a definite plus.
I’m amicably divorced.
I see my ex a lot. My therapist thinks is fan-ta-stic.
I’m 41 and pretty okay with it.
I mostly like being in my 40’s. Turning 40 gives you the power to say I Don’t Care and actually mean it. That’s a good thing. The downside is that my face seems to be melting as I age so I would really like to meet in a place with generously dim lighting. Or a movie. Movies are awesome.
I have an eight year old son.
I adopted a Chinese tornado who is on the autism spectrum. If you are a guy who thinks it’s funny to pretend to be Rain Man on our date, I will be the girl who pretends to have food poisoning and leave you with the check after I order twelve lobster entrees on my way out. If you do meet my son, don’t be offended when he asks if you are pregnant or if you flew a B-29 in World War II.
I like to write.
Like every other middle-aged mother, I have a blog. This means I will be writing an article about our meet and greet in my head as we chat over coffee in that generously dim lighting. If Huffington Post runs my piece, I will change your name to Bert if you wore loafers and no socks, and to Sergio if you wore Ed Hardy or jeans with bling on the back pockets.
Dancing is fun.
If we hear music somewhere, and you happen to be the kind of guy who doesn’t have to be begged to dance, and bonus, you don’t care what you look like on the dance floor, I will give you rock-hard abs when I blog about our date.
I like honesty, over-sized sweatshirts, spicy salsa and Netflix.
Do you know what “back fat” is? This is a requirement. It will be a potential boyfriend’s job to tell me if it’s there so I can grab a cardigan. Or a Xanax.
I had a mastectomy. You should know this now because “I’m really cold” won’t work forever as an explanation as to why I wear a sweatshirt when we make out.
If you are expecting me to eat half the Chipotle bowl and save the rest for later, you will either be super impressed with me or super disgusted.
If you don’t like House of Cards, I just don’t think this will work.
What do you say, eHarmony, which profile is the winner? Just wave me down in my newsfeed and let me know. Thanks.
Rebecca Masterson is a writer, speaker, and an advocate for children. For more from Rebecca, like her page on Facebook or follow her on Instagram.