The Fraud

This blog is an important one, not just for me but for anyone out there who is also internet dating. It is the story of a person I fell in love with and out of love with. Of a man who fooled me and others in my life. A man who made me question my life, my values and how strongly I stand by them. A story of a conman who uses 'love' and 'business' to steal from others. This is the blog about a man called Stephen Mellor, born in the UK in the later 70s and currently living in Australia.

Setting the Scene
Around the time that I met Stephen there were some big things happening for me in my life. I was working casually as a support worker, spending a lot of hours on my thesis and getting experience at the University Clinic. My supervisor at the clinic was making my life hell (later having her contract discontinued due to inappropriate professional practices) and my housemate/good friend had gone travelling overseas. I had put on weight due to all of the study I was doing and I was feeling disconnected from the people in my life. I was feeling pretty low all round, and in fact, the lowest I have felt since moving interstate. I was in a bad way and desperate for anything to pull me out of it.

First Contact
Stephen first contacted me through the dating site early on in my internet dating life. He was charming and witty, and most of all he made me laugh. I hadn't laughed in a long time. It was really nice. We emailed, talked on the phone and eventually decided to meet up. His name was 'BritishCharmer' online. He was the first internet dating person that I was really excited to meet.

We were planning to meet up on a Saturday. The time and date was set. An hour before we were supposed to meet up he cancelled on me. He said that he had been delayed because of work and that it had gotten on top of him. We decided to re-schedule for the next day. He said he would give me a call in the morning and let me know what we would be doing. He didn't call. At 4pm I sent him a text message telling him not to bother. I asserted that I was not going to be stuffed around and if he couldn't get his act together to do what he said he would, I wasn't interested. I didn't hear from him again.

Life went on. I continued internet dating, all the while thinking of how I excited I had been to meet "BritishCharmer" and how unappealing most other dates were becoming. Months went by. No one was grabbing my attention. Everyone seemed bland and uninteresting (or if they were interesting it certainly wasn't in a good way). Following a run of dates including 'The Choker' I decided to give up on internet dating and I closed my account down.

Physical Contact
Two weeks after closing my account I got a phone call. It was Stephen on the phone. He was calling to apologise for stuffing me around. He said that he had gone away and sorted himself out, and felt the time was right to contact me again. He said that he had looked for me online but that my profile was no longer up. He stated that if I wasn't already snatched up by Prince Charming, he would love to take me out to make amends. I figured 'what the heck, I will at least get lunch out of him' (this was before "what the heck" was proving to be a bad omen) and I decided to give him a chance.

We met up for a coffee and then we went bowling.  He was  interesting, stylish, funny and different. He was a businessman who was starting his own design company. We talked and laughed the whole time. The hours and hours ticked by without me even noticing.  He was everything I ever thought I wanted and more. I was well and truly swept away. I let myself go with the moment.

As the days went on and on, he wined and he dined me. I felt like the luckiest woman in whole world. He treated me like a princess. He made me feel sexy and intelligent, powerful and feminine all at the same time. I had never felt this way before, and coming out from the dark hole that my life had become, I enjoyed every part of it. I thought I was in love.

As the months went on we had a tiff from time to time but nothing big enough to call it end game. I would feel uneasy about things every now and then but was always able to dismiss these feelings as nothing. We moved in together. We also started looking for somewhere to buy. We put in offers and eventually decided to build on a block of land. I have never owned my own place and was so excited.

After 12 months he proposed to me. He said he had never loved anyone so much or asked anyone to marry him before. He said that there was no one else in the world like me and he wanted this to last forever. I had never been asked if I wanted to marry someone before. I wanted that part of my life to happen. I wanted to feel connected to someone in a meaningful way. I wanted a partner and a family. I wanted to feel like I had a home and something to come home to and although I wasn't aware of what I was really getting into, I said yes.

Changing Times

You know when you live with someone, you don't notice them put on or lose weight because you see them every day. If you only see them once a month it is a different story. You notice the rounding face or the protruding cheek bones. That is how this all played out. A frog in a pot of water, slowly boiling.

I had completed the course-work component of my Masters and it was time to focus on my thesis. I did this. I would get up in the morning, pull out my laptop and sit all day, until I could do no more. The only exception to this was on a Wednesday night, where I would go out swing dancing. Stephen didn't like this very much. He always came along. He said that he was going to spend all of my "time off" with me because he was missing me. I think it was more to keep an eye on me in the end rather than because he actually wanted to dance or be there. It annoyed me but I managed and tolerated it. I couldn't fault him too much on wanting to spend time with me.

Time Pressure
He began complaining that everything wasn't fair on him. He demanded my time and was never happy with any I gave him. I compromised, offering him 1 hour of my precious thesis time per day. I still made breakfast (usually eggs and bacon), lunch and dinner for both of us. He didn't cook. He would come in and eat with me, then declare that it was not fair that I was counting eating time in the hour. I was often thinking that it would be much easier without a partner. I obviously didn't listen to this though. I tried to ignore it, pouring my time and energy into my thesis.

It wasn't bad enough that Stephen was on my back, his parents were as well. They wanted us to go over for dinner once a week. Once a week was more than I wanted to sacrifice. I went a few times. We got there, we were served some slop on the plate and then everyone sat around watching TV. The food was always the same - sausages, frozen veggies drowned in a pot of water, half a kilo of mashed potato and some gravy. I anxiously spent my time thinking about all the thesis I could probably be doing (or could be sitting at home procrastinating about).

Money Matters
It was halfway through my thesis when finances got out of control. My credit card maxed out. I couldn't believe it. If there is one thing I have never let go, it is my handle on money. I had not been working as I was spending most of my time working on my thesis and on Stephen. It wasn't a huge limit so I figured I had been overly distracted by my studies. He offered to take care of it for me so that I didn't have to worry about it while I was stressed about my thesis. He said his business could make the payments. I let him (and why wouldn't I? I trusted him).

Even though he was "taking care of it" I started to get calls from the bank again. Every time we would fight. He would have a reason for why it hadn't been done. He would say that he forgot or that he was waiting on money from a job. My parents had offered me a gift as an engagement/wedding present. They gave me some money. I requested putting it on the credit card to bring down the repayments to something manageable. They did. It took some of the stress off the situation. I didn't hear from the bank for a while.

Trouble Brewing
I took time out from the stress of my thesis and finances every now and then, catching up with friends. Stephen hated it. One of my friends lived around the corner and was a sanctuary when I needed to leave the house. She patiently listened to me complain about all of this stressful things in my life, especially Stephen. It was what I needed. I valued this time like no other. I needed it to process the things happening to me. Stephen would always make a fuss about it. He would call my female friends "trouble maker" and "the devil" and say they were trying to split us up. Alternatively if I was going out to spend time with a male he would say to me that they want me and that he couldn't trust them. Every time I would make it clear to him (in as calm a tone as I could manage at the time) that I was not willing to give up my friends. Every time we fought about it. We fought a lot. I felt sorry for the neighbours.

It didn't matter what I said. He never listened or acknowledged my needs and wants. He would argue that it was not fair that he only got an hour and I would go out for a few with a friend. I went anyway. I needed to. In saying that, I didn't see as many friends at the time, or nearly as frequently as I usually do. It wasn't worth the energy fighting about it all of the time. He would go through my phone as well, always commenting on any texts I received, or any that I sent to others. I was becoming more and more isolated.

At this point I wasn't looking at ending the relationship. I had committed to trying to make it work. I wasn't willing to give up yet. Not until I had done all I could. We had plans, dreams and promises to keep.

I tried to focus on the positive. I made an effort to make it all work. I tried writing down the things we liked about each other, as well as the things we were looking forward to. I spent hours writing down the things we were struggling with, to try and bridge the gap of understanding between us. We also worked on swing dancing moves as something positive to do together.

He became more and more insecure and anxious. He would always point out that I had made a commitment to him and to us. He would ask me if my word meant anything. When he didn't like what I was saying (which was most of the time) he would say that I was purposely speaking in "psychology language" and that he didn't understand it. Every time I would patiently try to explain it differently and got the same response from him. I couldn't win. At this point he was no longer my superhero, bringing me to life. I was just trying to stop us... stop me from drowning.

Some time between a point of bad and worse, I finished my thesis and Stephen had managed to take over my life. I was isolated, had minimal access to my car (and when I did there was no petrol), my phone and my life. We never had money and he always had an excuse for why business was slow (but would assure me it will pick up in no time).  He didn't believe in going to bed during a fight, so he would shake me in the bed to keep me awake (until I agreed with him and I could finally sleep). I wasn't sleeping because we fought all the time. I was so tired.

At this point he never left me alone. Even in the shower I had no space to myself. He would get upset if I didn't want him there and would stand outside the door and talk to me. He would do his martial arts moves towards me and around the house. I can't decide whether it was to show me that he could take control or to help with his insecurities and anxieties. It was probably both. He would stand in my way and prevent me leaving a room. When fighting he would try and force a hug on me. I would push his hands away and ask for space but he wouldn't give it. It got to the point that I would, in colourful language, tell him to back off and leave me alone. He shoved me back once. Twice he even pinned me down, refusing to let me go. I hated it and him! I let him know that if he ever did it to me again we were over. I couldn't understand how I could hate someone that I was in love with.

By this point I honestly didn't realise how far my head was under the water. Friends would comment that Stephen was being weird all the time. He was. He was suspicious of everyone and everything. He assumed most things were an attack against him. He never gave me a moment to myself, especially if anyone else was around. I was exhausted. I spent most of my time dissociated. I heard myself saying things like "I feel like I am being chained up and kept on a leash" but the words didn't connect with thoughts and actions. They were separate to me. I kept telling him to leave, that if he wanted someone to panter to his every need than she is somewhere and someone else. I had nowhere else to go, or at least I didn't feel like I had anywhere. For quite a while I had no energy to do anything else. I could only hope that he would leave.

Realisation

It wasn't until I went to a friends wedding interstate that I realised where things were at. I watched them, so happy and safe together. I looked at Stephen and I and realised it wasn't there for us. I wasn't in love with him. I was only barely tolerating him. He was a source of distress and anxiety for me, not safety and calm. I made a comment to Stephen as I realised this, stating that we weren't a rock. I said (in a somewhat intoxicated disposition) that I needed us to be like my marrying friends before I married him. He must have realised it was ending. He stayed in bed late and when he did get up he acted like a child. He refused to eat or talk with anyone for the rest of the trip. We were staying at my parents place. It was embarrassing.

My mum took one look at me when she saw me and in her first chance to chat with me alone she broached the subject. She asked me where my smile had gone. She asked me where her daughter had gone. It was enough. I realised it was NEVER going to happen with Stephen. I had tried as much as I could and I could try no more. I could finally see how far we'd fallen and it was time to cut the rope and save myself.

The Break-Up
The following weekend I went away to a friend's place in a different part of the state. Stephen insisted on coming with me but I sternly said no. I had used "no" with Stephen very often and he usually didn't let it fly. I made sure it did this time.

It was Saturday morning and I was drinking tea with my friend, talking through my decision to leave Stephen. This friend, Katy, is always available to listen. She has a knack of making things seem better or more manageable, at least for a while. She can make me laugh when I am crying, and make me cry with laughter. I have never met anyone else like her. This is why I had gone there. For respite. For safety. To escape. There was no other place I wanted and needed to be.

A segment on Sexually Transmitted Debt was on the Morning Show in the background. I decided to check my credit cards (knowing there would be a little bit of debt there but not too much). I had let things slide with all the stress that had been on me and thought it a good time to reassess my situation. When I opened my online accounts I realised what was going on.  Stephen had been cash advancing money off my card since it first maxed out. He had taken my trust and used it against me. I went into shock. Katy took over.

 

Stephen had left me with debt larger than I had brought in as total income that year. Within 14 days of my parents putting my engagement/wedding money on there, he had cash advanced it straight off again. I couldn't believe it at first. I really couldn't. I couldn't even decide whether it was bad or not for him to have done it. I was reeling. Katy dragged me out of the house. We went to the police and to Legal Aide. We sought advice on what to do and where to go. I didn't take much in but the thing that was driven home was that he was a perpertrator, and I the victim. It started sinking in. Katy didn't make me laugh that day. Instead, she sat with me while I cried. It was all that I needed.

Katy and her partner put on a 'Christmas in July'. We ate and we drank. I don't know how I did  it (no doubt it involved the alcoholic beverages) but for that night I was merry. It was the last time I felt that way for many months to come.

Stephen had left by the time I returned. Although I had not said anything, he had assumed I'd found out about him. I guess he knew it was all coming. Everything was still in the unit we were renting. Three of my friends came around the minute I saught their help. I went from feeling alone to realising how many people had my back. They helped me pack up my life, everything I owned and had known. I am still so thankful.

I loaded up our cars and moved in with another friend, Rachel. Without hesitation she offered me a bed and a home to shelter me from the worst of the storm. I stayed with her while I picked up the pieces of my life.  Every night she listened to me discuss and process my progress and the small footsteps I was making forward. It is these moments that helped me to continue moving. I found my own place a month or so later. She never asked for a dollar off me and wouldn't have taken it, even if I had forced her.

Over time I realised that he had been emotionally and financially abusing me for months and months. He had been manipulating, threatening, undermining and lying. He justified his behaviour and lied to himself so much that to him there were no lies. While I had been trying to make us work, trying to repair our relationship, he had been ripping it apart.

In the conversations that followed, Stephen justified all of his actions. Once he got no where with that he started to apologise. He promised to change. He promised to pay all of the money back. I heard him out, believing nothing. I had no feelings for him anymore, I just wanted the debt gone. I kept it civil, carefully wording any comment or email, even as he continued to try and manipulate the situation back to some advantage. I made it clear that if he didn't pay, I would pursue other ways to get the money. He gave some money back to prove he would. I got money for 3 weeks in a row before it stopped. After that I only got lies.

Aftermath

After all of this happened I spent a long time thinking about Stephen and what he had done to me. At first I was not angry. I was looking to understand how it had happened and how I had let it. I pitied him. Here is a sad and delusional man who wants nothing more than his happy ending. He can't see that he sets himself on fire and destroys his own life, over and over again. Every time he does this he has to carry it with him. He knows what he has done. He has to face it every time the truth is uncovered. He has to sleep with it at night, every night, for the rest of his life.

I was coping but it wavered at times. It didn't help when people asked me "you work with people, shouldn't you have known or seen it coming?". There is a lot of judgement and underlying assumption to a comment like this. These comments stung. I already felt ashamed of my decisions, of the choices I'd made. I was angry at myself for not listening to my instincts. I was angry at myself for being swept away in the fantasy that I too could have a life with love and a family warming my home. I felt stupid for all of the times I tried to make the relationship work out of 'commitment'. I felt stupid for believing all of the lies, for trusting him. I had let myself down. I didn't need judgement from my friends. What I needed was their patience, love and support. I did get it from my closest friends and with this I began to find my anger. I channelled it, using it to drive me forward.

Reflection

I still get angry about what Stephen did to me and upset that it all happened. I didn't cry much in the aftermath. I focussed on collecting the pieces and keeping my life going. As I wrote this blog I allowed myself some time to finally do that. 

Looking back on how it all ended, I can't believe how far I let things slide. I like to think of myself as an assertive and intelligent woman. I stand my ground when I feel I am right and I will take a stand when it is needed. I don't allow others to treat me poorly and have no trouble doing things alone if I have to. I got so lost. It is hard to step away and look at your situation when you are engulfed by it.  I had continued to fight, but it is hard to focus energy when you are facing battles on all fronts.

What makes me the angriest is that he is still out there. He is still doing this. He continues to scam, steal, lie and justify it to himself as if it is okay to do this. He has done this to other women, leaving them in debt, disillusioned, as single mothers and he continues to live his life as if he never destroyed anyone elses. He gets away with it. What's more is that Stephen isn't the only person like this out there. There are others that do this too. People that live off the exploitation of others. They are not evil. They do not stand out. They are well rehearsed and practised in their art and the destruction they leave behind.

For those people out there with an open heart and trusting nature, ALWAYS follow your instincts! You never have to stay in a bad relationship no matter how much you have committed to. Continue to connect with friends and family. Keep up the supports in your life. It is not easy. If things are at their worst, remember that it is much easier to do things alone than to be drowned by your partner.

The debt hung over my head for some time. Every time I received a bill or thought about buying my own place I was reminded of what had happened. I am glad that I fought to keep my friends in my life, regardless of how much Stephen attempted to isolate me. Without my friends I would have been lost. I am so glad and thankful that I wasn't alone. It was all hard enough already.

I still hear of him and see him in the street or in the supermarket. Every time my blood boils but I am biding my time.  I am putting my trust in the idea that he will get what he deserves.  He will set his life and dreams on fire and be left clutching only ashes. He will be the destruction of his own happiness.

The Gym

I always find it amazing how many men put 'the gym' (numerous times) as a regular activity, sport and pass-time on their profile. When I am at the gym I often spend most of my spare energy (that which is not being used on exercise) screening out other people and avoiding eye contact. When I have paid attention I always find the experience interesting to say the least. 

I mean sure, a fit and healthy male is fantastic... I am just not convinced the people I see at the gym fall into this category. I don't know about all gyms, but the one I go to has four sorts of men attending (okay 5 if you include a small miscellaneous category). These include 'The Oldies', 'The Professionals', 'The Tradies' and 'The Roiders'.

Setting the scene

My gym is one of those low budget chain gyms where you pay a low fee per week and get unlimited access to cardio and weight machines. There are no classes, no child care facilities, 2 showers and minimal staff. There is a TV showing the latest music clips on each of the 4 walls (except during the olympics or something else such as a football match where 2 screens play this instead) and a few gym mats lying around for floor work.

As for me, I am one of those people that goes red at the first sign of exercise. My heart rate shoots up quickly (it scared me the first time I used a heart rate monitor) and even if not huffing and puffing I certainly show signs of unattractive sweaty flushing. I was privileged as a child in primary school to be called 'beetroot' and 'tomato face' every time I had to participate in a sport (I also used to blush dramatically when lying or embarrassed but luckily high school trained me out of the worst of it). Consequently I have never been a huge fan of exercising, at least not in front of others. I prefer to go to the gym when it is quiet. I go first thing in the morning before work, but have been known to go during the day, the afternoon and across the weekend. So what about those men?

The Oldies

These are the older guys who have probably been told to attend the gym by their GP (to increase vitality or reduce the risk or impact of diabetes). These guys usually come in during the day or in the late morning. They are most likely retired or working part time. They work out (but never too hard) and they leave. These guys are a little too old for me.

The Professionals

The second type are the professionals. These guys pop in directly before or after work, sometimes with their partners. They arrive or leave in a suit. They are fit and healthy and don't hang around. They are not interested in socialising at the gym or spending any more time than necessary. These guys are my type but the wedding band that usually accompanies them identifies them as 'already taken'.

The Tradies

These guys can be sporadic in their gym use. They are often wearing old clothes or inappropriate combinations (whatever clothes they can find on the day,e.g. trade pants and boots). These guys like weights and can often be found sitting around with The Roiders (see below).

The Roiders

The Roiders are the guys with arms that are far too big for their body. They are usually at the gym in the afternoon from around 4pm. They huff, grunt and moan as they flex their muscles for each other and check themselves out in the mirror. (I watched a guy pose in front of the mirror for 10 minutes once... he flexed and admired himself from every angle, doing all but kissing his own muscles. He was so engaged with himself he didn't notice me looking!). They sit around and watch each other without much conversation and when they finish, they continue to sit around the gym for another hour or so. Now I am not saying that these guys actually take steroids but if they did some of the common side effects include permanent liver damage, acne, aggressiveness, heart problems, infertility and diabetes. None of these things (especially when self-inflicted) are appealing in a partner.

A side note on proportion
I like a man who looks relatively normal. My preferences lean towards healthier males who are not too large or too skinny. I don't mind a bit of tub but just not too much of it. In all my years I have never thought to myself 'Wow, what big muscles he has, I must get me some of that' or 'Geeze that guy looks hot with those extra large arms on his small frame'.

What I have thought is "I wonder if you can see how odd you look with those oversized arms", "Can you see yourself?!" or "I bet it is expensive to get shirts to fit you properly with those ridiculous arms". I guess muscles aren't my thing.

So maybe my gym isn't the usual gym experience out there. Unfortunately my experience leads me to view 'the gym' when written in profiles as something that is not all that desirable. I don't want someone who is pumped up or who enjoys spending hours and hours in a sweat lab (I just don't enjoy the gym that much). Looks and physical fitness all fade. All it takes is a sports injury or a broken leg. When this happens I just hope these guys have something else to replace the gym with.

In summary I don't see the gym as a great 'interest', a place to pick up, or a place to hang out. If someone is spending that much time working on their physique, what things in life are they sacrificing in its place?

Guy From the Train

During a quiet spot for internet dating I was on a trip interstate and was drawn into conversation by a man on the train. At the end of the trip he gave me his email. At the time I took it because I was only half following what he was saying. It was noisy on the train, had been a big day and I was on my way to an event in the city. I thought he was selling mini-motors for push bikes and at the time I was looking into buying one to make the last hill home more pleasant. Now this guy technically isn't an internet date, but the further contact with him happened because of my internet dating experiences at the time.

So I returned home with his email and wrote to him. It was just a simple message addressed to 'Guy from the Train'. I stated that I had made it home safely and was now looking forward the photos of his bike parts that he was talking about. He wrote back. His subject was 'In from the rain'. It was clear from his first email that he was not just trying to sell me something (in fact he wasn't selling anything at all). The email was filled with information about his day and the things going on in his life. It was very reminiscent of an internet dating email. He was interesting and I was a little over internet dating experiences at the time so I figured 'what the heck' (a line I should apparently be a lot more cautious of). We continued exchanging emails, each time he changed his subject title to rhyme with 'guy from the train'.

I was heading back to the state that I had met him to see my family. I arranged with the guy from the train to meet up. We did. He met me at a train station. He went straight in for the kiss (which I found a little odd as we had not defined what we were and could easily just be 'pen pals'). The meeting became a brief holiday fling.

On the first day (just after meeting at the train station) he called past his parents to buy some of their honey and introduced me to them. I politely engaged in conversation until I was able to get him to notice that I wanted to leave. They were lovely people who wanted to stuff us with food and send us away with bags of fruit. He later told me that they had been praying for me to come into his life... Awkward.

He came out and visited me while I was at my parents. We went swimming, bike riding, shopping, shared lunch and dinner and enjoyed each others company. Most activities were pleasurable and it was nice to have no pressure to do anything or be anywhere. The only thing that was bugging me at this point was his need to stop whenever talking. Even this was not too much of a problem until we actually went for a long walk along the beach.

Picture this. Two people holding hands along the beach. Enjoying the long empty dunes and wild waves. Peaceful, right? Wrong! It wasn't for me! Every time he wanted to say something... anything, he would stop. He would wait until I had stopped too, and made eye contact before continuing. At first this was fine. I took a number of approaches to the situation. I pointed it out to him. That made no change. I kept walking, dragging him with me. That worked... minimally. By the end of the 3 hour walk I was sick of the energy I needed to put into him, and was fast developing a stress twitch in my eye!

As I got to know the guy from the train, I learnt more and more about him. He spent a long time telling me how successful he had been. He told me of the money he had made and lost through stocks, from owning land and business. He told me about his current work designing, and how it will make him rich. He told me of the profit his friends had made on his advice and of the people he had met over his years. He was odd but interesting and I was enjoying his interest in me, even if the conversational topics were ultimately about money.

I spent time with my family in the middle of my holidays and then went to stay with him the last two nights before flying home. He picked me up from my parents and we drove off into the distance.

The car trip was a bit of an issue. The car itself was lovely. It was a little old, but ran well and had a soft top. The car was not the problem though, it was his driving. Every time he spoke he would let go of the steering wheel and look at me, using both hands in his expression! It freaked me out. I probably left it too long and instead of raising the subject unemotionally, I snapped at him. I asked sternly that he keep at least one hand on the wheel, and an eye on the road at all times. The mood darkened a little.

His place
When I saw his place, what I saw was not too promising. He rented a lovely unit on the (swampy) waterfront near where I used to live. He had some possessions, but only few. Most things were second hand. The cupboard was mostly empty and it was obvious that in general, no one else came there. He owned no bottle opener, enough cutlery for one, one plate, one bowl, and a few glasses. This was not an entertaining home. It was the sad and depressing place that this man chose to live in, alone. There was no evidence to support his claims of success. There was no evidence of too many friends in his life either.

After a more recent incident with a fraudulent ex-partner of mine, I was very put off by the lack of consistency in his story and his actual life. I was feeling uneasy and I trusted that feeling more than I did his stories. This guy offered no security, didn't appear to have achieved much or maintained anything he had. So I had the conversation with the guy from the train. I let him know that maybe it wasn't me that his parents were praying for, and that it had been nice but that was all.

He cried. It was awkward. I put a hand on his back and tried to sympathise. He continued to cry... For 20 minutes! A lot went through me head at this time. I thought about my parents, and how nice it would have been to spend an extra day with them. I thought about work and what I had to get back to at home. I focussed on the music playing on the radio. All the while I was resting a hand on his back, stiff and lifeless. I guess he eventually picked up on it. He then got up angrily and started carrying on about being a "silly man". That was a little more awkward and I just sat and let him go for it. I didn't strictly agree with him but did highlight that we had only known each other in person for 7 days, 2 days of which we didn't see each other... I don't think that helped the situation.

He decided that the weather was too warm to drive to the airport so he drove me to the train station instead. I told him I wanted to take the train on my own. He didn't listen. I wanted to stare blankly at the scenery I had watched so many times before. He wanted to talk. I was glad to reach the end of that train ride and say goodbye. I was exhausted.

When I returned home I wrote him another email. I thanked him for his time and wished him all the best. I haven't heard from him again, but on last email, he had gone out and bought a dinner set and some cutlery and was inviting some people over for dinner. Maybe I was what his parents were praying for after all.

The First Kiss

What makes a good kiss and is it important?  I googled the topic to come across a range of tutorials and online information sources offering tips, videos, things to ponder, what to expect for the kissing novice and a range of other related discussions. From the number of websites dedicated to this topic I guess a lot of people ask this question. Personally I am not so interested in defining or refining my kiss (I have had plenty of practice) but  I have had a number of different end of date experiences in my time internet dating that are worthy of discussion.

The first date/second date kiss issue is one everyone has to face. I like to give subtle clues to my male dates as to whether or not I am receptive to a goodnight kiss. If I stand more than 1 metre away and frantically open my car door to leave, that is me saying "not this time buddy". Other than Ze German there has not been a case of someone kissing me when I don't want them to so I must be making it pretty clear. Now of the first kisses I have received they have ranged from a peck on the cheek through to full on face washing. I will now explore some of the kissing styles that I have been met with through this process.

The Tongue-First Kiss

For those of you out there that have never had the privilege, this kiss rate about a 2/10. His tongue comes out and launches toward you long before he is even close. I have only had one date kiss me like this (I really wish I could have put 'attempt to kiss' in there but at the time I let it slide... I may have been a few beers into the night at this point). These men look very special when they do this. I now dodge a kiss like this one. It is not the kind of kiss that calls for a second, or a first for that matter!

The Face Wash

I am not sure why some people think that it is a turn on to have half your face eaten and spat on, especially as a first kiss, but these guys exist. Now these types of kissers are problematic for a number of reasons. 1. Their saliva dries out your lips; 2. they can get carried away and suck your lips in... which is not pleasant; and 3. They are more likely to be pash rash makers as they lack the awareness of your delicate skin. Overall this kiss rates about a 3/10. It is sometimes addressable through conversation, but let's face it, it is an awkward conversation to be having (and I know because I have had it before). Usually this kiss doesn't lead to another unless there is a hell of a lot of something else there to buffer the impact.

The peck

Now I have to admit that I like the peck. It is safe-ish. It is short and sweet but can lead to more if the feeling is right. The peck works best when there is a slight stagger in lips (as this makes it less of a 5-year-old's kiss and more of a mature-parting-in-public kiss). I rate this one at 9/10 and am always delighted when this is the kiss of choice (if I am after an end of night something) from my date.

The Kiss-on-the-Cheek

The Kiss-on-the-Cheek is a nice parting kiss and also an ideal first kiss. It is the kiss of the non-risk takers. It is friendly, well rehearsed (the kind of kiss used for friends and family) and a nice way to break the physical barrier. It says "Thank you for your time and company" and is a good way for him to gauge whether or not you might be interested in more. This kiss is usually followed by the peck as a second kiss (on the next date). If it is followed by another cheek kiss than maybe friends is the end of the line for that guy. Rating of 8/10 for this one.

The Sailor Kiss

Now for the over-enthusiastic, sometimes it is easy to throw a little too much into a first kiss. The Sailor Kiss is an example of this. This kind of kiss looks great in the movies but it is far too conceited for my liking. Plus... a common side effect is awkward arm (check out her right arm ^) trapped between two bodies (which does actually come in handy when needing to push his face away for air and escape). I have had this one laid on me once (and yes, I used awkward arm to help me out of the awkward kiss fairly promptly). This one is only really good when you know each other well, are having a bit of a laugh, and when there is a person with a camera standing nearby. 4/10.

The Face Grab

Similar to the Sailor Kiss, the face grab can also be a little ambitious for a first kiss. For starters it inhibits any ability to pull away and break the contact when it ceases to become comfortable. It is lovely down the track but as a first kiss I am usually unimpressed. This one gets a 4/10. This one has happened twice. On both occasions my mind took me back to any self defence lessons I had learned, just in case. Not a good start.

The Passionate Kiss

For a passionate kiss to happen there needs to be chemistry and a lot of it. With my history, whenever the chemistry has been great enough to warrant a passionate kiss as a first, the relationship has not gone well. These guys are the charmers. They have been the ones that have swept me off my feet... blindly. Rational ceases to exist... and so does intelligent thought. As much as I love these kisses and these moments, it is a very bad sign!

I spent a great deal of time looking for this chemistry but the years have made me the wiser. I now look for a chemistry rating at about 7 rather than 10.   These relationships seem much more grounded, two-sided and realistic!

My Preferences:

The kiss summarises a range of skills in the other person, from their experience, reading of social situations (and appropriateness), toleration of anxiety and unknown, gauging of emotion, and overall courage (I admit, it must be a little nerve racking to make the move). The reality is that I do judge people on their kissing. I judge them on just about everything, from the way they walk, dress, converse and respond, express themselves, whether they make a move and whether or not it is the right one. I am looking for right. If it's right it feels that way.... it feels right. All of my unsuccessful dates have had a sense of wrongness to them. The most extreme of these I have already blogged or will continue blogging for you.

So what makes a great first kiss? If you hadn't already noticed, I do actually have preferences for the type of kiss coming my way. In my mind, the best first kiss is unassuming. On the cheek with a little overlay on the corner of my mouth. This kind of kiss hides any anxiety about making a move. It is sweet and gentle and offers potential for more (without stealing it).

And for your viewing pleasure, a couple of short and entertaining clips on kissing.

Online Etiquette

In any social situation there are common social courtesies that we take for granted. We don't necessarily notice them when negotiating social life but when they aren't there it becomes bleedingly obvious. For example, social rules dictate that personal hygiene is important when trying to make a good impression. If we take a dancing scenario, that person who turns up to a social dance in two day old undies with no deodorant in the heat of summer is not likely get a dance... or at least not more than one. But this is in the social world. 

In the online world of social awkwardness and unwritten rules, etiquette is something that is redifined, if not wiped out altogether. Just to clarify, etiquette is defined as "the customary code of polite behaviour in society or among members of a particular profession or group" (thanks google). What happens when these customs have been defined by a group of people who would rather interact with a computer than another human being (Yes, I am making a broad assumption that a lot of people that paved the way to current internet use were less socially adept or comfortable with the etiquette of the wider social world)?

I believe that one of the most important parts of a relationship is communication. For many years I have sat by friend's sides, calling their exes bastards for doing the most pitiful and cowardice of things - this is of course breaking up over a text message. I would console my friends and agree that these men are too ball-less to face them and be honest. In the internet world of today, it is rare to even to get a message!!

That's right, the biggest difference in dating online that I have noticed involves communication. Now I am just a guilty as the next person in letting communication drizzle and fizz out or be too busy to reply to a message. I have not stated my lack of interest clearly and once I even purposely ignored an email. Most of the time though, I make an effort to be clear about where the other stands. I reply to kisses letting people know that I am not interested. I follow up dates with an email requesting friends (at most) only. I can't say this is the norm. 

What I have experienced is people dropping off the virtual world (at least from my end it appears that way) or never calling or replying back. Don't get me wrong, I have not been sitting at my phone desperately willing them to call. I have never taken it personally and maybe that is the thing. In a world where we can connect to billions of people from out lounge room, people become expendable. When the main form of communication has been through a computer screen maybe etiquette need not apply. At times I come to think this kind of thing is actually expected.

When deliberating on the topic I am often brought back to the pre-feminism gentleman who opened doors, paid for dinner and made sure the girl got home okay. These men in today's world are a rarity. Maybe all those women who wanted to assert their independence beat it out of them. Maybe it was just a change in expectations that led to the demise of chivalry. Whatever the case, I appreciate a gentleman. It would be sad to think that the same thing is happening with communication.

I would hate to think that we are moving into a world where people are considered just another computer alias and deleted as quickly as they appeared. Maybe this is the inevitable but I will continue holding the flag. I will continue making that phone call or sending that message (depending on the most frequent form of communication). I will continue to remember that everyone I talk to, no matter how weird the date was or even if only through a computer screen, is in fact a human being, deserving to be treated as such. I will continue to be delighted when I am met with the same.

The Photographer a.k.a. Mr. Doughnut Belly

The Photographer has to be one of my all time dating favourites! This guy was in his early 30's. His profile was pretty average and his photos didn't give away too much. What I did know is that this guy was a wedding photographer and on the side of that he was a painter. Now I don't usually go for artistic guys (fine arts or musicians) but I was in one of those 'what the heck' kind of moods. 

We got chatting and through a few of the conversations he shared an online album of his work. I shared an  album of my photography in return and we commented on each others work. He had a few viewable albums. One was of wedding shots, one of random pictures and another of 'artistic' nudes. I actually like artistic nude photography. I do however prefer it when the photos are suggestive and emotive, rather than all out soft porn. His work leaned toward the latter. I decided it would at least be a good topic of conversation.

As per usual I shared these with friends and we talked about or real impressions of the quality of work. We all agreed (not that I told him) that they were okay, but not amazing. The  nude females looked awkward and uncomfortable in some of the shots, so he was unlikely to be the kind of guy that puts his subjects at ease before shooting. He had taken some nice scenery shots, but the were very reminiscent of famous shots taken by other photographers.

I decided to meet The Photographer for a photo date - we would both take cameras and hopefully (if nothing else) I could learn a thing or two more about photography.

It was a mild early spring's day and we met in a very picturesque park on the other side of town. We met at a cafe there and planned to walk around before grabbing lunch and heading our separate ways. He got out of his panel van and walked across to greet me. I got out of my car and watched him walk. From the way he was walking he looked a little special, but I dismissed the thought and began chatting. He was in fact a wall painter (panel van begged the question), rather than an artist.

Things were not off to the best start but we took our cameras and walked across to a more scenic area. On the way we discussed his experience with photography, where he was wanting to go and what had inspired him (for the nude photographs). As it turns out this guy had been working with a photographer and so had the opportunity to take some photos at a wedding. According to him the nude photos came about because he had been approached by a few women wanting their photos. He had taken the nude shots at the request of the ladies in the photos and apparently they had chosen the style of their photos.He threw in that he had purposely put shots online where faces were concealed. I contested the statement, knowing that I had sat back with friends and considered the facial expressions of the women.

The question "where do you see yourself in 5 years time?"  is a very interview sounding question, but I usually ask this question if this doesn't naturally come up in conversation. This guys response was insightful. He replied "I want to be famous for my photography". I asked what type of photography and how does he plan to get there but his reply was very vague and undirected. This person was not actively taking any meaningful steps in the direction he planned to be in.

It became pretty obvious that this person was not so much of a photographer and more of a person that owns 4 cameras (he explained that this was so that there were two back-ups in case his back up failed). He also picked the only of those four cameras to take with him that had a flat battery. I gave up on the photography thing (I had actually given up ages ago based on the conversation but the battery was a nice excuse). At this point I was on the verge of starvation, having hit the gym for a good session first thing before our date. I decided to suggest heading in for a bite to eat.

I ordered lasagne and a drink. He decided (after I had ordered) that he would not be having anything but water. I suggested he at least grabbed a drink or something small (to save me eating alone) but he stated that he'd had a late breakfast. I ate. He watched me. It was awkward. I made small talk to ease the discomfort.

We looked like this:
Me - eating my lasagne with a glass of wine.
Him - sitting slouched watching me eat.
Me - making small talk to try and dodge the awkward.
Him - during small talk, grabbing his gut into a doughnut (and jiggling it) whilst telling me how much weight he has put on. He then launched into conversation about how unmotivated he is and how he needs someone to drag him to the gym.
Me - thinking "You have got to be joking!"

At this point he became Mr. Doughnut Belly.

I think the main feeling I was experiencing at that point was disbelief. What was this guy thinking? Does he think? Has the 'Doughnut Belly' trick worked before? Does he really think it is attractive to present himself as unmotivated, with little direction? Who does such a socially abhorrent (okay I may be exaggerating a little) thing on a first date? 

He got up to go to the bathroom. I attempted to text message my friend to get me out of there with some kind of friend emergency. He came back from the toilet before I got the chance. I finished my meal quickly and told him I was leaving. I paid for my lunch and drink, got in my car and drove off. I called my friend. She and I laughed about it all the way home. When I got home I discontinued contact.

I know anxiety can do some strange things to people but I would like to think I am pretty good at keeping a situation relaxed when I put effort into it. This guy didn't seem anxious, so I assume that he just wasn't able to think about the consequences of his behaviour before doing it. Clearly the consequences of a doughnut belly are a lack of second dates. Maybe he hadn't clued onto this yet. My thoughts about his specialness from first walking to my car come back to me and I am reminded that gut instincts are sometimes a good thing to go with. If something doesn't seem right then maybe the truth is... it isn't.

Mr. Nice Guy, The Interviewer and The Stalker

In experimenting in my approach to internet dating, there was a point where I decided to skip the written part and get straight to the meeting. I had been internet dating for a few months. I had already met a few strange individuals and was sick of wasting so much time leading to the date, to then realise that these people were "unique" and "interesting". This is the scenery for meeting 'Mr. Nice Guy', 'The Interviewer' and 'The Stalker'.

Given my approach at this time was to meet as many possibles as I could fit in, I had arranged to meet two different men on the same day (at different times obviously), another on the next. I met each man for coffee.

The first man on my list was The Stalker. Now I must confess this guy didn't actually stalk me at all. We met. I bought myself a coffee (as he already had one) and we chatted. This guy was attractive, fit and the conversation wasn't half bad. It wasn't amazing dialogue but considering previous dates it was well within acceptable limits. I can't remember what we talked about now, but it was easy conversation. An hour was up and we went our separate ways. I wasn't bedazzled and I guess he wasn't either as I never heard back from him (I will discuss this at some point in 'Online Etiquette').

"So where did 'The Stalker' title come from then?" I hear you asking. Well I have a number of friends who live vicariously through my dating experiences. On a social occasion where I was meeting up with one such friend she asked me who I had been meeting recently. Since technology is wonderful these days I pulled out my phone and his profile for her to have a look. When my friend saw the picture and the profile she informed me that this character was someone she knew of. She advised in the nicest possible way, that the previous relationship break-up had been messy, and he had been caught breaking into her house and stalking her. After hearing this I was glad we hadn't pursued further contact.

Man 2 on day 1 was Mr. Nice Guy. This guy did buy me a coffee. This guy would probably have done anything I asked of him without questioning. He seemed sad and desperate. He was one of those characters that is completely nice and friendly about everyone and everything (on the surface anyway). I have no doubt that this was not his true feelings but I got a sense that he didn't know what they actually were. After 40 minutes I called the date over and decided to head off and onward to the next date. I don't know about you but I like my partner to be honest with how they are feeling and what they are thinking. I much prefer 'genuine' to 'nice'. I would rather someone know themselves well and be quirky, than always put on a façade of normal (lets face it... everyone is quirky and 'normal' does not exist).

The third man in this series I called The Interviewer. He was an accountant. He wore a business suit (it was a work day) and we had exactly 35 minutes before he had to leave again for work. He was relatively attractive and very well dressed. I met him outside his work and we walked across to a cafe together. From the minute we met this man was down to business. I think I answered more than 100 questions all in quick succession. Every time I tried to turn my answer into a question directed at him it was ignored and faced with another question. It was exhausting (and boring). There were no smiles, no small talk and no wasted time. There was no joking about or banter. All business. This guy knew what he was looking for and I must have been offering something in that general direction otherwise I am sure he would have terminated the activity before the 35 minute time limit. I was glad when this date (or should I say, my 'interview') ended. I did not seek further contact.

So after a succession of such experiences I reconsidered my screening process. I took a bit of a break to focus on friends and life a little more. I re-established written communication as a bridge between first kiss (initial expression of interest) and meeting. This became a solid part of my screening process and still is today [for more on my screening process refer to Profiling or 15 Kisses and a Lot of Misses].

As a side note, I got very sick of meeting for coffee after this time. I am not one for going out for coffee really. I prefer to grab a glass of wine or beer but it is a bit uncouth to suggest this for a first encounter.  I know that a cafe offers a safe forum to 'screen' someone and I used to always say "at least I might get a coffee out of it" but the reality is that I was always disappointed. Most men didn't offer to pay the $3.50 for a hot cuppa. They commonly arrived early and purchased a coffee while waiting. Since this time I have instead constructed a list of activities I would like to do in the area and am working my way through them with my latest dates. Occasionally a man suggests coffee first as a safety screener and sometimes I let them get away with it. I even get the occasional coffee bought for me.

Ze German

Ze German is a recent date of mine. He was a few years younger than me, studying part time, managing a store part time and in then with any spare time he was internet dating. My initial thoughts on this person said 'probably not'. From his pictures I didn’t really warm to him and I am not too keen to walk back into student life (after only having freed myself from it a year or so ago). In saying this, he was working (so not likely to be living in student squalor) and his written profile was somewhat appealing. He was half German half Italian.

It was a low patch for internet dating interest so I thought “what the heck” and accepted contact. He emailed straight up. He was enthusiastic and interesting and included suggestions for a first date at the end. We emailed minimally before phoning and meeting up. I wasn't excited to email him and he was keen on skipping formalities. This was probably a mistake.

For the first date we went on a long drive and lunch. He had dark curly hair with wisps of grey throughout. He also lacked a definable jaw line and chin, but instead had a dimple where his chin should be. Despite the greying doo, he was evidently younger than I. He drove a little recklessly at times which made me a feel uneasy (there was no need to be rushing), but the conversation came easily from both sides. He spoke a number of languages. He spoke them to me at different times across the date. Internally I was trying to decipher whether he was showing off or trying to ascertain my multi-lingual abilities (non-existent). I smiled and nodded appropriately (I guess), not understanding a thing he was saying. I never came to a conclusion on this one.

We stopped off for a coffee at a gorgeous location on the water. I was glad for the drink, if for no other reason than to clear the white spittle from the corner of his mouth that had been bugging me. He opened my door for me and he paid. It was nice. This doesn’t usually happen for me on dates. We sat and chatted for about 30 minutes before moving on to the next location. He raced to car door to open it for me. It was a little weird but a nice gesture.

I always try to get  sense of my date's relationships with family members. I hold the belief that how someone treats the females in their family is indicative of their deep seated values in relation to the opposite sex. One comment that bothered me was on ze German’s dislike of emotionality. He stated not only that he didn’t understand highly emotional people, but that he didn’t like them. I wasn’t sure what ‘highly emotional’ was exactly, at least in ze German’s mind so I left it. Another comment was regarding his frustrations with his sister because she is emotional. I could be reading into things too deeply but it was sounding a little like this person looked down on ‘female’ traits of emotionality and desire to talk things through. Maybe he just has a highly emotional sister. At this point I couldn’t tell. I let it slide and diverted conversation back to safer topics… politics for example (lucky neither of us were too political).

The other thing that happened during the date that I was not comfortable with involved ze German blowing his nose. He managed to wipe a booger on to the top of it! This was more than a little off putting so after a minute or so I suggested he may want to wipe again. He did. It was gone… or so I thought. Then he wiped it back there again! I would have laughed but I was too disgusted by the yellow sticky mass on top of his nose. I couldn’t believe it! I again, suggested he blew his nose. Finally it was gone, but in the meantime I had decided that the booger and the white spittle had resulted in a desire for no physical contact on this date.

We headed back to the car. He opened my door for me. This was strange as I was clearly standing next to the door and he was next to his, and I had to move out of the way for him to do it. I like a man to offer but surely I am capable of opening one car door! Although a few things had been a little off-putting I had enjoyed the ease of conversation and the different approach and energy of this date. I agreed to the second date.

It came time to say goodbye and he kissed me goodbye on the lips. It was only a peck so I put my reservations aside and accepted it politely saying goodnight. He then asked for another “for ze road”. I found that weird and awkward but for some reason decided to allow him one more peck. I quickly left the car after that, wondering why I had let him kiss me a second time (this should have been an indicator to pay attention to).

The second date was not as eventful. We went and played mini-golf. By this point I knew solidly that if forced to make a decision about being in a relationship with this guy then the answer would be a definite no, but there was potential for it to develop into something over time. I spent a lot of the date trying to suggest slowing things down and starting with friendship only. Ze German actually said “Oh, I like being friends wiz girls first but zey usually don’t like that”. I replied that I do. I then continued to raise conversation around internet dating etiquette versus normal social etiquette (oh yes there is a difference), observations on emotional and mental states (and sometimes desperation) of people signing up and involved in internet dating, kissing (or in this case not kissing) and the assumptions people make when on an ‘internet date’. He told me that I think too much.

The last two men that said “you’re thinking too much” or “stop thinking so much” to me were doing things behind my back that I did not agree with and that I would end a relationship over (you know, small little things like sleeping with others or stealing your money). I previously ignored my instincts and have paid the price for doing so. If I am thinking too much then it probably indicates something is not quite right. Even if it doesn’t, it is important for me in my profession to be self aware, and to analyse behaviours, interactions and emotions, especially those that may interfere with interpersonal and therapeutic relationships (not that I am feeling a need to defend myself here). This is who I am and if concerns about that are being raised by date 2, then that is a problem! What was also becoming evident was that this person didn't like his women to be emotional or analytical. What was he looking for (it didn't seem to be me)?

So it came time to say goodbye. He dropped me at my car and as I was about to get out he leaned in for a kiss. I turned my head to the side so he could only catch a cheek. He came back for a second so I turned my head to the other side. You think he would have got the picture. In my head it felt like I was acting out a scene from the Looney Tunes show featuring Pepe Le Pew. He then said “on ze lips”. It was clear that the energy I had put in to creating a ‘just friends’ experience had gone to waste and I was being forced to make a decision about whether there was a relationship. Can you guess what I decided?

I phoned him later to let him know that I did not want to go on another date. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "I've been thinking and I'm not feeling that we have what I want in a relationship"

Him: "Well I still think we should have anozer few dates so we can get to know each other a bit more"

Me: "I am happy to be just friends only" (I wasn't really).

Him: "You're thinking too much. I think what's happening is you're going home and thinking about what I said and then what you said and over thinking it all. I think it is detrimental to you relationships"

Me (feeling quite annoyed now): "You are assuming that I am basing this decision on what I am thinking rather than what I am feeling. I am not"

Him: "Okay, well I am still happy to go out with you this weekend"

I didn't go out with him again.

Following this date I have gone back to my decision to only date people my age or older. I don't think it was his age that was the problem, but he certainly came across as entitled and judgemental. I like to think that time weathers these characteristics down a bit. Ze German is a person who has not struggled for much in his life and was quick to make assumptions of others. This didn't sit well with me and it was clear I didn't want to be with him, even after the first date. The chin was also a little concerning. I like a chiseled jawline on a man and couldn't help but think about my future children. I want them to have a jawline too! I probably should have called it there on date 1 but there is a small thought in my head that comes in from time to time saying "be open to experience. Give it one more chance". So far the voice has always been wrong!