Every now and again on ShoreBread one of our “single ladies” will give you a firsthand account of their trials and tribulations navigating the shore’s single scene. We’re in favor of the romantic notion of letter writing–you remember, in the olden days before emails and Facebook, when people handwrote letters and waited weeks for a response. With that in mind, each writer will be signing off under the same penname—Single at the Shore. They are writing to you, dear readers. Feel free to comment, or share your dating stories too.

Several months ago I found myself at the end of a nearly 10-year relationship that included six years of marriage. Immediately I had to deal with a lot of things that I had never thought about: moving house, handling legal and financial responsibilities, and sorting through all of the emotional static that comes with the breakup of any long term relationship. The last thing on my mind was starting a new relationship; regardless of my intentions, a well-meaning friend thrust me rather abruptly into the local singles scene. There I encountered the fascinating but troubling predicament of dating in the Facebook Era.

Just weeks after my separation, a girlfriend invited me to a get together where I experienced what I affectionately call the New Girl Phenomenon. Here’s a pretty static group of people, most of them coupled off, with a handful of singles mixed in. Add a single, unknown female into the mix and it’s like a feeding frenzy. In just days, I received a handful of Facebook friend requests from guys I met at the gathering, a phone number with an invitation for coffee, and even a private message from a very forward fellow who wanted me to know that I am “really hot” and that he would like to date me if I was “interested in that sort of thing.”

How romantic. And entirely lacking subtlety. Being a fairly modest person, my first reaction was, “Gosh,this fellow is a bit desperate.” I’m no Quasimodo, but I don’t typically think of myself as “hot” and I was quite overwhelmed by the sudden flurry of interest when I had only said one or two words to most of the guys who “friended” me. I politely accepted most of the requests and gently let down the overzealous fellow, but my gears had already begun to spin.

I’m only 30, but I felt a bit out of touch when I realized that the last time I dated (in the old-fashioned ‘dinner-and-a-movie’ sense of the word) Facebook didn’t even exist. For the most part, “liking” someone before Facebook meant you went up to them and told them how you felt or you waited for them to figure it out; there were no pixelated thumbs-up graphics involved.

It seems to me that in today’s hyper-connected, web-centric social environment there are a lot of pitfalls to stumble into when looking for that special someone. Instead of experiencing the gradual process of getting to know a person, you click that magical plus sign, wait for your acquaintance to accept your request, and suddenly you have everything you need to judge the book by its extremely descriptive cover.

Assuming he’s the sort that likes to share – instantly you know where he lives, where he works, what school he went to, and the list goes on. Sure, it’s instantly gratifying to see the details of a life laid so plain, but what on earth do you talk about on that coffee date when you already know who he’s voting for and what he had for dinner last night?

“So. Nice weather we’re having lately.” [Awkward silence]

Add to this the bevy of photographic evidence one can dig up. It’s great to get your hands on photos of him tossing a frisbee to his dog or hanging out at the game with his buddies, but do you really want one of your earliest impressions of him to be that drunken party photo where he’s wearing a pair of boxer shorts on his head? Or perhaps he’s the type who never cleans out his virtual photo albums and you suddenly find yourself face to face with lovey-dovey snapshots of him and his ex.

Worse yet, you realize that the coffee house where you’re meeting him tomorrow is the backdrop for all of those ex-girlfriend photos. If you’re even the slightest bit insecure, you may instinctively compare yourself to the ex. What if you have the same hair and eye color? What if you look just like her? What if you’re just a replacement?

Creepy.

But let’s say you’ve had your first coffee date, and we’ll assume that it went well. What now? Years ago, the next step might simply be agreeing to meet up again or perhaps waiting for him to call. In the Facebook era, we’re all about instant gratification. With smart phone apps, you can log on and post the results of your date or send a private message just seconds after leaving the coffee house. For some, the temptation to shoot off a PM right after a date could be terribly great. Or perhaps you’ll just post about the results of your outing. But do you want people to know your business? Would posting about a first date be over-sharing? What if he doesn’t post about it? Does that mean he’s not into you?

HOLD UP.

Maybe we’re over-thinking things a little bit here? In the hyper-connected and yet strangely disconnected world of Facebook, the potential for jumping the gun, making assumptions, or just plain overanalyzing what should be a natural, casual experience is out of this world.

As easy as it may be to ogle potential companions online, soak up every last bit of info they share, and follow every mundane moment of their daily lives, none of that is an adequate substitution for getting to know a person the old-fashioned way: by spending time with them, talking to them, listening to them and getting their spin on the world. Call me old fashioned, but I’m pretty sure that when I am ready to dip my toe into the dating pool, I’ll be careful to tiptoe around all those online dating traps and make my connections IRL.

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