Not My Type: The New Reality Show

I’ll take the sporty blonde for 200, please.

As many of you may remember from The Baby Photo DatingStory, I started seeing someone who was “not my type.” I hemmed and hawed for a bit when we were just friends about taking things to the next level. Having mentioned that Five Eleven wasn’t my type while talking with My Sister the Pharmacist at the time, she gave me the best tidbit imaginable. She said, “Well, dating your type obviously isn’t working for you, is it?” Whoa. So true.

But, you know, Five Eleven is my type. She has all the characteristics of the perfect woman and perfect partner that I’ve always wanted. She’s caring and loving. Romantic, funny, sweet. She’s helpful, smart, sexy, creative, thoughtful, handy…and on and on. Plus, she’s absolutely crazy about me. What’s not to love and what’s not my type?

Kinda like Einstein's quote on the definition of insanity...doing the same thing
over and over and expecting a different outcome. Dating the same type can feel like Insanity.

Just because she didn’t fit into my typical physical what-I-was-attracted-to-before traits, I almost lost out on the best thing I’ve ever had. I used to tend towards the more sporty, feminine-edged lesbians. Not the girly, feminine girls either (those aren’t my type). Very rarely did I do a double take at a Boi or more Butchy-edged lesbian with the thought of perhaps dating. When we were “just friends,” I even told Five Eleven several times that she wasn’t my type. Dang, what a heartbreaker I was…

So, lately, I’ve been repeatedly giving this “not-my-type” advice to several friends. One of which is a straight friend who wasn’t having much luck dating in the last several years. I think she has finally got it! She’s dating a guy closer in her age range (though she doesn’t look her age). This weeded out the ones who don’t know what they want or the ones with young kids which she doesn’t want to do anymore. Responsible, working men who may not own their own companies and several houses will be there to lavish more attention on her which is her type. They also can spend time cuddling on the couch watching sporting events like she likes to do.

We are all so quick to judge people based on what they look like on the outside. That’s why shows like The Voice have come into play. You only initially judge the singer on their voice versus seeing who you’re listening to which may actually influence you.

I think that’s where I lucked out with Five Eleven. We started talking long-distance just as friends. I fell in love with her from the inside out. Now, when I see her, or when she sends a pic to my phone, my insides just melt. She is so physically my type.

So, I think there should be a new, reality dating show called “Not My Type.” Find out what people want in a partner. Find out what their type is…what are they looking for in a relationship? If it’s blue-eyed, blonde-haired movie star look, see what about that is absolutely necessary. If they’re looking for someone who is funny and who loves country music, cooking at home together and mountain biking, how is the blonde hair and chiseled jaw going to help that? Seriously?

Maybe start them off just talking on the phone for several “dates?” You can tell a lot by the sound of someone’s voice. Does their voice irritate the heck out of you? Intrigue you? Excite you? Calm you? (I told Five Eleven that she had a sexy voice the first time I heard her…even as friends).

And, hey, how about what they actually say? Do you connect with them? Have things in common? Do you like how they think? What do they want in a relationship? What have they had? How would they change things? What kind of future do they see for themselves? Does your conversation flow? Do you always have things to talk about? Are the quiet moments okay?

Those should be the things that really matter. Those connections and similarities make someone our type. Yes, physical traits and chemistry play a part. If you’re active and tend towards the athletic, you’ll hear how they run or hike in the stories they tell. And, if they aren’t in top physical shape, but would like to be more active again, you’ll have something to do together if that’s important to you. Just be honest.

Being truly honest is required. No cat-fishing allowed. (See that’s where the physical stuff comes into play more so than who they really are). You can’t lie and say you like something or you like to do something when you have no real interest in it. You need commonalities and knowledge up front. At least the realization of them. Don’t waste everyone’s time. You can have differences, of course, but some likes have to be there.

Are there things that Five Eleven and I don’t have in common? Yes. For one thing, I love the ocean and swimming. She doesn’t. At all. Will that work? Yes. She likes the beach and the outdoors. She can watch me boogie board or one day surf in the big waves and I can resuscitate her from her panic when I come back to shore. She can free-climb cliffs or repel down rock faces while it’s my turn to panic from down below (there’s no way I’m hanging off the top of a cliff to watch her). Important thing is we’ll be together in nature, which we both love. Thank goodness she is my type.

So, on this reality show, after the face-to-face date, when this “not-my-type” person turns out to be brown-haired and brown-eyed, is that really a deal breaker from everything you learned about them? What if they are the same height as you and you say your type is taller? Why do we have so many pre-conceived notions of what we want physically? Have those physical traits made a difference in your relationship before? Did it work out for you? Obviously not if you’re out looking again. What if this person who doesn’t fit your “type” turns out to be the most amazing partner, lover and friend? Would have been a shame to pass them up just because they weren’t blonde, huh? So, maybe it’s time to start making some real, life-lasting connections instead? Then, “Not My Type” just might become My Type.

Are you with someone who wasn’t your type? What makes for a good partner? Please share below!

@Ybbeige

Erica Harding finds someone who wasn’t her type in this novel, Unexpectations.

Remember That One Time When You Were a Felon?

Life is never dull. That’s for sure. Either you find excitement or it comes to you. Well, it came to me. 

I’d like to think that I’m a fairly good judge of character and that I tend to gravitate towards people who are generally good…at least in the law-abiding sense. So imagine my response when I found out that I was dating a felon. Astonishment. Disbelief. What the heck? And, are you freakin’ kidding me?

Here I thought Five Eleven was a wonderful, sensitive woman. Caring, thoughtful, smart, funny, handy as all get out. A boi. Her own self. Great with kids. An incredible lover. Never did I think she was a watch-out-you-just-dropped-the-soap kind of lover.

I'm sorry that my life is so dull that I do not have actual pictures of friends in jail.
I had to resort to birds in cages. I do have a friend who works in a prison. Does that count?

How could a woman who has served in Desert Storm, Afghanistan and Iraq end up as a felon? A woman who worked as a drill sergeant to help turn around severely troubled youth in our country? A woman who has been nothing but supportive for me through this whole head injury? The idea just blew my mind. And, hers actually.

It turns out that Five Eleven is not a felon. (You can breathe a sigh of relief Mom and Dad). But, she was called one for about two weeks. Five Eleven was trying to get a new job. She passed the interviews, drug screenings and physical tests (that other women just haven’t been able to) with flying colors. Then it came to having a background check.

Thank goodness the pet store had two kinds of birds in cages to
add visual interest to this post.
Actually, I know I have pics somewhere from when I
used to have a Blue & Gold Macaw...hmm...

It’s amazing how companies who do background checks don’t always look you up with your social security number. Scary actually. Why do we even have that number then? Where Five Eleven used to live, there were a dozen people in that same county with her first, middle and last name. So, is it any wonder that someone else with that same name would have a criminal record? And have spent three years in prison? If the background company actually verified her work history, they would have seen that she was busily employed then and not spending time in some jail for embezzlement. Or, a quick call to the State Police like she did would have clarified things immediately.

So, being a felon put Five Eleven’s hiring date back some which has been a bit of a nuisance, but the good news is she has a new job and she is no longer a felon. Phew! We will be talking about this for a good long time, I’m sure. Like, forever. Even telling our grandkids about it. I can tell them about my time at Band Camp (which we really just called Band in the summer). And, she can tell them about …that one time…when she was at felon camp. You go, good-bad Grandma!*

*Five Eleven does not want to be called Grandma in real life. We have many years (I hope) to contemplate what we’d like to be called by our future Grandbabies.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

So, You Finally Met Your Girlfriend? And, She Wasn’t a Catfish?

Here’s the scoop. I just spent the past month with Five Eleven (formerly known as 5-11 SexyBoi SexyTwang). Day in. Day out. And, it was absolutely wonderful. Better than wonderful. But, she’s your girlfriend and you’ve been dating, like, eight months, you say? Yep. So true. But, it was long distance. 2400 miles apart. We hadn’t actually met until December. Things just came up. With jobs and travel plans and stuff. And, with my head injury, I couldn’t travel out there, so that also limited things.

Friends would say that we just needed to meet. Hurry up, already. To see if we liked each other. To see if there was chemistry. Sparks. Fireworks…that kind of stuff. What if she wasn’t a good kisser? Um, no, that was not the case. (Phew! That could have been bad!)

Five Seven and Five Eleven isn't that much of a difference...

I met Five Eleven online. On Twitter, actually. I wrote about her in The Baby Photo Dating Story. I started talking to her as just a friend. A friend going through a breakup just like me. Only her most recent relationship was a longer one. But, I had once been there too. We talked as friends about chocolate. If you know me, you know I love chocolate. She does too. And, we talked about life. About love. About our hopes. Our dreams. About sex. Or, lack thereof. We talked “as friends” for months. She wasn’t “my type.” But, she seemed safe. She was good people. Yea, I was wrong on that. The not-my-type thing. I was totally right about the good people part.

After my heart did its flippy thing and I fell for her, at times I’d feel the outside pressure to have to meet her. But, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from having a brain injury, it’s patience. In our world of technology and high speed everything, things that are worth the most, aren’t always immediately attainable.

I feel that we were fortunate to have time to build such a good relationship long distance. Based on friendship first. She also helped me a lot with my head injury and keeping me organized with appointments, helping me ask the right questions, get the right treatments… Most people could have walked away right then and there. And, I always half expected it. But, not Five Eleven. Like she says, “through thick and thin, sickness and health.” Even while she was here, she took care of me. Drove me everywhere I needed to go. Did the things that she knew made me most nauseous. She made sure I rested and didn’t do too much that would have hurt my head. How lucky am I?

So, when I first met her, she was exactly what I imagined. Maybe better. Yea. Better. Watching her movements and mannerisms was nice. And, her swag. Yea. She’s got swag. She was as sweet and as kind as I had thought. And handy. Holy handiness! I thought I could rock a toolbelt. Wow. Not quite like her. And, after an entire month, things never changed…well, not for the worst…they just got better and better. Plans are already in the works for more face time.

Sorry the eucalyptus is covering up some of the swag. Dang! That's good swag.

Isn’t this how people used to date? In the “old days?” The really old days? Get to know someone over time with hand-written letters and correspondence? (I recommend doing that, too, even with technology). Other people are also doing this long-distance dating thing from what I hear. Unfortunately, for some of them, it turns out to be a scam. Can you believe that? A scam! It’s called catfishing. Or, to catfish. There’s a movie and TV show about it now. Both called Catfish.

Catfishing is trying to find love online and someone totally misrepresenting themselves as someone else. I couldn’t imagine doing that. Life is too short to lie about anything and to not be yourself. It’ll come back to bite you if you do. Just look at the case of the Notre Dame football player, Manti Te'o. Lying about having a girlfriend who dies from cancer? Really? Why? What the heck? Google that story and tell me what you think.

Meeting someone and dating long distance takes trust. And, honesty on both sides. Pics and videos are helpful. Along with the talking on the phone. Long distance rates aren’t like they used to be…most everyone can afford some talk time. You can hear a lot in a person’s voice. And, hopefully enough to know if they are sincere and good people. Or, if there’s something fishy about them. Catfish fishy.

Have you ever been in a long distance relationship? Five Eleven and I have found the link above (dating long distance) to have helpful ideas. What has helped you? Would you ever date someone long distance? How long would you wait before you met them? Please share!

@Ybbeige (follow me on Twitter - you just can't date me)

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com

Unexpectations on Kindle

Butch Leaning

There’s something to be said about the image of a strong figure. A woman in particular. I love this picture of 5-11 SexyBoi-SexyTwang that her cousin took. (She was thinking of me at the time which makes it even more special.) This is one strong woman.

Dang! 5-11 sure can rock the toolbelt.

In our patriarchal society, usually men are the ones that are portrayed as strong beings. I’m glad that there is finally some deviation from that norm though even now the man who doesn’t fit that traditional norm may be bullied and hurt (or worse) because of that. Same for women. Women who don’t fit into typical feminine stereotypes are often perceived differently in peoples’ minds. Or, gasp, mistaken for men.

As a tool-belt-wearing-tomboy-sort-of-girl myself, I’d grown up with people questioning me and my not-so-girlish ways.

When I came out as a lesbian, I never looked twice at women who fell into the more masculine Boi or Butch sort of categories. I found myself leaning towards women who were more like me…ones who showed off their figures, wore a little makeup but who were still sporty or athletic.

Maybe it was because I had been married to a man for so long that I wanted to be as far away from that perceived masculinity as possible? Maybe it was because I came out just before the L-Word and most every lesbian portrayed on that show was quite feminine? What was I thinking? My problem was that I had been judging others on their outward appearance and not getting to know them for who they really were.

And how is one supposed to think that not every lesbian is super feminine?

When I first started talking to 5-11 SexyBoi-SexyTwang as a friend, I even told her that she wasn’t my type. Again, what was I thinking? Seeing her and falling in love with her from the inside out totally changed “my type.”

I’ve kind of become obsessed lately with knowing more about Boi and Butch culture. 5-11 shares things with me constantly. Though she labels herself as ‘soft butch’ for the purpose of labeling in our society, she is who she is.

Yes, she’s stronger than most men I know. Way stronger. Yes, she shops in the men’s department but she is also the most caring, loving and supportive woman I have ever known. She’s protective of me and our family. She’ll go all ninja on anyone who tries to hurt us. With her military background; trust me on that. She’s a caretaker in the traditional masculine sense. Someone to lean on. Through anything. She’s been like a rock to me through this whole head injury of mine.

When I look at her…with her masculine clothes and zero makeup…and rocking the toolbelt like no one else can, I see the most beautiful woman there is. And, that is always my type.

What “type” do you go for? What is your perception of more masculine women? Please share your thoughts and comments below.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com
My Chick Read

One Thousand Orchids

This was inspired by 5-11 SexyBoi-SexyTwang...yea, I know, the pink is just killing her right now ;)

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com

Sex and Yogurt Abs

Sometimes things change suddenly. Sometimes things change so slowly that you may not have noticed. I had one of those, “Wow, that’s different” realizations this past weekend. I realized that I actually had abs. Almost like a six pack type of thing going on.

I was sorting through clothes in my drawers and closet. Switching out winter stuff and getting out more shorts and summer wear (though the temps are still questionably cold for Maine). There were lots of things to try on. Some that I vaguely remember being big from last summer and some things I was shrinking out of this past winter. Why put it away when I don’t ever plan on going back up in size?

So, standing in front of my mirrored closet doors (oh, the wonders of 70s architecture), I saw that I actually had definition. Woohoo. Rockin’ the abs!

The funny thing is that I haven’t been trying for them. I mean I do eat right. Lots of protein. Every morning I eat a bowl of plain Chobani Greek Yogurt with flaxseed meal, wheat germ and some type of fruit mixed into it. Usually half a banana. Switching to yogurt versus having cereal every morning has made a difference in weight loss/weight maintenance for me. And, it’s made a difference in what fits and what doesn’t; and obviously in what my abs are looking like.

I started with vanilla yogurt then went to plain and added my own honey.
Now, I skip the extra carbs and sugar and get my sweetness from the wheat germ and fruit.

Besides the yogurt, I do exercise. Well, the only “formal” exercise I do is one weekly yoga class (if I’m lucky). I try to do a few sit ups and pushups every other day or so. Plus, I try to walk on the beach a few times a week because I just love to be by the ocean. Exercise that doesn’t seem like exercise is my favorite kind.

One of the best exercises that fits into that category is sex. (Masturbation is a close second). Especially for an ab workout. You tighten every muscle and then relax it again. Your heart rate goes up. Way up sometimes. You burn 144 calories every thirty minutes having sex. It’s a good thing, as Martha would say.

Since 5-11 Sexy Boi has come into my life, I think that has made a world of difference for my abs and my body. I’m sure as heck smiling more. Smiling may not burn calories but kissing does. Making out burns 268 calories every half hour. My kind of workout.

Maybe the yogurt thing had started working for me, but having a sexy sexual girlfriend has just pushed my body to a new level. (Now, here’s where most people cringe at the thought of their parents reading their blog and putting out there, “Hey, Mom and Dad… I’m having sex and lots of it. Oh well, the fun of being me. Winky face.)

So, grab some yogurt. Grab a mate and have sex. Lots of sex. Before you know it, you’ll be rockin’ the abs.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

www.barbarabeige.com
Unexpectations for Kindle