dating over 40

Saturday, the first day of my professional association’s conference this weekend, a married gal pal introduced me to a colleague of hers. He was tall and good looking. We only said hello as we scurried to our sessions.

I had reserved a table for 10 for Tuesday night’s gala and invited her to be my guest. She said she’d promised to sit with him since he didn’t know many people. I said to bring him along, as I had a well-positioned table and other fun guests.

He stopped me Sunday to thank me for inviting him to my table. He told me his name again and I said, “No need to reintroduce yourself. I always remember handsome men’s names.” He said, “I’ll have to hang out with you more.” We laughed and parted.

We’d intermittently flirted by email and phone for almost a year. We lived thousands of miles from each other so promised we’d let the other know when we’d be nearby. He toured in a popular R&B band, but not to my area. Until now.

A few months ago he told me his group was booked this week in my part of the country — but 400 miles away. Then a few weeks ago I heard on the radio that they were playing an hour away from me on the same tour so I emailed him to suggest getting together when he was near my town.

In A Woman’s Worth, Marianne Williamson says, “No man can convince a woman she’s wonderful, but if she already believes she is, his agreement can resonate and bring her joy.”

But how many of us dating in midlife focus on our wonderful qualities? Isn’t it more prevalent to notice your wrinkles, bad habits and other imperfections?

I vet potential dates via the phone before meeting. Why? Because if I don’t enjoy the conversation on the phone, it’s pretty much guaranteed I won’t enjoy the face-to-face. I know some people are uncomfortable on the phone, but in this day and age, if you can’t converse comfortably whether on the phone or in person, you’re not for me. In the last week I’ve had four potential suitors call me. Only one received an invitation for a repeat conversation.

Being a conscious conversationalist is critical to a long-term relationship — at least for me. Since I’ve encountered so many people who are conversationally challenged, I’m assuming it is as much of an issue for women as it is for the men I vet. Since it is doubtful your friends will volunteer that you are an inept conversationalist, as a public service I thought I’d delineate some of the most common conversational culprits.

I love dating men with a sales background.

Why?

In Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, Steve Harvey says if a man doesn’t have a plan you should not fall for him.

A “plan” means a vision for his future and how he will get there. That plan needs to include a woman in it. I’ve been surprised that some men have a plan for themselves, but it doesn’t seem to include a woman. For example, a wealthy man I dated several times had already planned his retirement by buying a small, 2-bedroom condo hundreds of miles away to which he will move when he retires in a few years. He remodeled and furnished it how he likes it.

I admired that he was so proactive and had a clear plan. But what would he do about integrating a woman into this plan? I envisioned that if it worked out between us I’d have to buy the condo next door for me and my stuff! Or sell all my belongings, I guess. In our many hours of phone conversations, there was never any mention of, “This is my plan if I’m alone. If and when I am partnered again, we’d figure out a new plan together.”

Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man: What Men Really Think About Love, Relationships, Intimacy, and Commitment

Generally, I like relationship books written by men for women explaining how men think and operate. Too many of us have difficulty fathoming how differently men function than women.

The book is divided into 3 sections:

• The mind-set of a man
• Why men do what they do
• The playbook: How to win the game

I’m a gardener. Every year new flora grow in my garden that I didn’t plant.

Some call these weeds. Others call them wild flowers. What you call them depends on your perspective.

While attending to some of these new residents in my garden, it reminded me of prospective suitors who come into our lives.

The term “scotoma” means blind spot. We all have the physical ones in our eyes, and I’d guess that we all have psychological ones, too. It means we don’t see something that is right in front of us or is apparent to others.

In dating, it’s easy to have a scotoma for someone we really like. We can not see — or see but overlook — glaring signs that someone is not a good match for us. But we blissfully act as if those signs aren’t there.

He sent a beautiful bouquet for my birthday last month, arranging for its arrival the day I returned home from SE Asia. He’s accompanied me to dress-up events, donning his Armani tuxedo with pleasure. He’s the epitome of a gentleman at these events, offering his arm to escort me, taking my coat and fetching it from the coat check, holding my chair to seat me, making sure my drink is never low, dancing when I want and schmoozing with my business associates, even ones I know he doesn’t like. He keeps himself buff, is current on world affairs, is respected as a thought leader, is generous with charitable contributions.

So why isn’t he my full time beau?

This phrase doesn’t work in a job. So why do people think this concept will work in dating?

For example, it appears common thinking is: