Dating is hard.

I just want to be discovered by the man I’ll spend the rest of my life with. We will meet, we will connect, it will be love at first forever and we will live a compromising and contented life happily ever after. This dating thing is rachet not for me.

Who am I?

I am a 39 year old single mother of one, living in a country where I’m among the 0.0002% of Blacks residing here. The dating pool is very small practically non-existent for a black woman surrounded by Azeri men.

Now, mind you, I’m not the kind of black woman who is opposed to dating outside of my race. I am totally into interracial dating.  However, here, if you have been previously married it diminishes your chance of finding a future spouse by about 70%. If you have a child, by 100%. If you are over 30, add another 50% to that. So, I live in a city where I am basically ‘unmarriable’.  Add to this the fact that I am a black woman or a ‘shokolad’ – a chocolate, which makes me not only exotic, but an exotic novelty. Men want to date me, not so they can bring me home and introduce me to their parents; but so, they can bring me home and introduce themselves to my ‘chocolateness’.

Had I still been in my experimental twenties, I would have found this intriguing — mildly flattering — and tempting. At 39, I’ve been there, done that, took the shots, and left the party. I’m not into being a sample for anyone’s palate  – but I still wanted to date. I decided to do just that. Tinder was the first choice.

Now, before you judge, Tinder is the perfect site to test the waters and see what’s out there. At least, that’s how it is in my neck of the woods. I took a few hours to set up my profile and scrutinize it. After a few minor edits here, picture changes there, I found it satisfactorily suitable, and thus launched myself into the virtual dating universe. Minutes after, I was awashed with a series of concerns.

What if I was catfished? What if someone I knew saw me on there? Worst, what if my students’ parents were on there? What if I unknowingly swiped for one of them? Oh, the mortification.

I figured at the very least, I was smart enough not to get swindled, so I let my profile remain.

Tinder is a game of chance. There is no guarantee that the person you swipe on will swipe on you, and I wanted to optimize my chances. I went all in. I made a couple of right swipes (more than a couple, if I’m perfectly honest) and what do you know, I was right-swiped back because I had quite a few matches.

For the most part, I kept my conversations solely on Tinder. I was seeking male companionship, not copulation. I was not in a rush. Eventually, however, there were a few who made the cut into the real world – my real world being Instagram or WhatsApp, depending on the level of intrigue or interest.

Question — those of you who date more than one person simultaneously — how y’all do it?

I really do not understand how men, and some women, date multiple partners. I found having to converse with so many persons – albeit, not at the same time (though there were some overlaps) – mentally enervating. I could not keep up. I needed to eliminate and edit. I began the process by excluding anyone who was overeager to meet, anyone who wanted to delve deep into how much I earn, whether I had investments and how much, anyone who constantly shared financial woes, and anyone who had matched with my friend who was also on tinder. I also, unceremoniously, unmatched anyone who right out the gate narrated their sexual fantasies in which I’m lead character. That took me down to a nice manageable few. Then, it was time to enter another world – theirs and mine.

Tinder-meet #1 – Did not happen. He was a sexy Argentinian with whom I immediately clicked. He said he was in Baku and wanted to meet. I agreed (in my head), but out loud I kept putting it off. Then it turned out that I had to be out of Baku for a while and he was leaving the same day I was set to return. Darn it. I bewailed the sad workings of fate – told him that I had really wanted to meet him too, it’s just a pity. He said he’d stay till the next day. Shit. I had to back pedal because deep down I knew I could not meet this incredibly sexy caramel hunk. Why you wonder? I had only recently sworn off sensually enticing experiences, and committed my focus on my spirituality. I KNEW that this young fellow would cause me to lose my witness before God, so I vetoed his offer. My body was not happy, but my brain and heart knew better.

Tinder-meet #2 – Sexy. Muscular. Knows adequate English. Okay, let’s see where this takes us. He invites me for ‘lunch’. I say that very tentatively because the location was at a wine bar. It turned out to be very quaint lil place that I actually liked. I made sure, though, that I had had lunch with a few of my girls before I met him. He was very handsome in person. The thing I remember most vividly however was thinking, ‘oh, he’s so short’.

The conversation flowed smoothly enough and at the end of the date, I felt as though I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. He felt the same because he asked me for a second date. Within an hour, he messaged, then called. I thought it was cute. The next day, I was met with a glowing declaration of love. LOVE! He wanted to meet my daughter and spend time with us. He wanted us to have a good life together. I was baffled. I neither had the patience, nor the inclination to figure out how you could love someone you’ve only known for a grand total of 7, 200 seconds, so that dead that.

Tinder-meet #3 – “Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts” – James 4:3

This is the word I received about this particular tinder-meet.  I will tell you about how it ties into this paragraph, but for those of you who are not au fait with the Christian bible, James is one of the books in the New Testament section.

I must confess that I like my chocolate with a whole dollop of vanilla, and then some, but I do also like my chocolate — chocolate. He passed the test. He was Belgian-Swiss caliber chocolate. Things with him was a little different because we had a slight meet in real life before we met in Tinderville. We were both at a major league football finals and cheered for the same team. At the end of the match, we ran into each other, and we connected briefly. I thought then (what I thought when I ran across him on Tinder) – this brotha is fiiiinne. When we swiped right on each other, I immediately added him to my WhatsApp and Facebook messenger. We sent text messages, had voice and video calls — we had a nice little vibe going. I was into him. He was into me. We wanted to get into things. About a month plus into conversing practically daily, he said he would come back to Baku to see me. He lived in another country, not too far, maybe five hours flying time. I was excited — and so was a particular part of my anatomy. Now remember earlier I said I had sworn off sensually enticing experiences, and committed my focus  spiritually — I was serious, but here I was having unthinkably impure thoughts about —- chocolate. For a while – maybe two weeks, we talked about him coming (no pun intended). The date was set. I was getting psyched up. Coaching myself into how I was going to remain controlled, but these often end in daydreams and night fantasies. About three days before he was scheduled to come, he stopped mentioning it — no information was forth coming. I didn’t hear about the flight — accommodation — or anything. Then, the day before his ‘arrival’, I asked him about it, and he said, he would not be able to make it. I was disappointed, but I was more so irritated. Had I not asked, he would not have said?? I felt so low in my spirits. We had such a great connection.

I could not understand, so I decided to pray about it. I needed clarity and I knew if there was something there that I didn’t see, God would protect me from it. As I prayed, the words of James 4:3 entered my spirit. Silently and with great conviction – “Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts”. My eyes popped right open. I had never encountered this verse before, but here it was in my consciousness. I grabbed both my English and Jamaican bible – sure enough I was being told off by the Big G Himself. I know well enough to listen when I get a word, so I let it go. We kept in touch on and off for about 6 or 7 months, then he just ghosted. I wasn’t surprised though, because maybe about a month and a half prior to his permanent evaporation, he had begun to do disappearing acts in spates – 3 days at a time, a week even; then he would come back with some story and an apology.  So it was that when he ghosted for good, I didn’t allow it to bother me because I had by then mentally clocked out. It did however teach me two things: a) Men can only put up a facade for so long; b) I wasn’t ready to put my heart out there, and risk being hurt.  I decided therefore to disable my Tinder account and go on another dating hiatus.

It was then that I met my sweet Azeri. Do you remember those Mills and Boons or Harlequin romance novels that we would read in high school? The ones with those drop-dead gorgeous hunks on the cover? Well, my sweet Azeri was the cover model, minus the hunk. Tall, gracious, handsome, and spoke enough English to prevent Google Translate from being a staple in our encounters. Another plus was that we met in the real world and not on Tinder. I was, however, a little cautious about giving my contacts to a random guy I met on the street, but he was mad good looking and I was drawn to him. I gave him my Instagram handle. It was a comfortable compromise. He messaged within the hour. Almost two entire months later, we went on our first date. It was lovely. He was a gentleman. The evening ended with a romantic boat ride for two, in a place we call little Venice. It was a beautiful beginning.  I must tell you that I was super ecstatic that when we met at the restaurant, he smelled clean – actually showered-clean, and not drenched in cologne; and every time we met after that, he had that fresh clean manly smell that made hugging an aphrodisiac. This was promising.

We met in early November, and things ran smoothly. Then, just before the pandemic hit and the world would go in indefinite lockdown, we had a serious conversation. He was keen on me visiting his home and I was keen on not going; so, I asked about his intentions. He was very clear. He cared a lot about me and my daughter. He hoped we would have a great and long relationship. He sees us being together for five, maybe ten years, but then he’d have to marry. Yippee!! Right? Wrong. Not marry me; marry a nice Azeri girl that his family would have hand-picked for him. It was the culture. It was expected. His mother was waiting for him to marry. I smiled, and thanked him for his honesty, but explained that what he was offering was not aligned with what I wanted for myself. Of course, he didn’t understand why that was not enough for me – I already had a child, had a husband at some point; what he was offering was a good deal. Umm, no sir. I happily walked away from that with zero resentment. It took a while, but we eventually got back around to being friendly and now, though we are not exactly friends, we chat from time to time and he’s always there for me and Nai. It’s nice.

So, you see, dating is not my sport. That’s why I’d really like it if one of these days my future husband would just walk up to me and say, I have been praying my own Ciara prayer for the longest, get over here girl, let’s do this dang thing. Well, not quite that rugged, but you get my gist. A girl’s tired. Will I date again? Yea, one day, when I am properly ready. Will I ever try online dating again? Maybe. Not Tinder, but a strong maybe. I won’t throw the baby out with the bath water. I’m sure there must be more emotionally rewarding dating sites out there. Until then, I will continue my evolution by learning, healing, and growing. My purpose partner will find my pathway, when everything on my journey is aligned.

Till next time, be blessed and be a blessing.

Natalee Cole is a Jamaican educator and writer. She is a notable alumnus of the University of the West Indies, Mona Campus, where she also served as adjunct professor. As a former stage actress who has performed in the Caribbean and three different continents, she believes that ‘any expression of art is an expression of life, and an expression of self’. She currently resides in Azerbaijan with her daughter, and can often be found in the classroom teaching English, or moonlighting as a blogger and podcast host. Her poetry book – All the Broken Pieces is set to be published in 2022.

Blog: I have a little human. Yikes!

Podcast: Let’s Talk Life: The Natalee Cole Show (formerly Facing Forty)

Instagram: nattyb_charity