Swipe out of spite - I wasn't ready but he introduced her to the kids

Now, let me be clear: the fact that he was dating wasn’t a surprise. He had been doing that while we were still married—so technically, this was more of a formal announcement than breaking news. Still, when he called in the spring of 2022, freshly divorced, to inform me that he had introduced his new girlfriend to our boys… I felt it. Harder than I expected.

And because I’m highly skilled at emotional repression (some call it “coping,” I call it “Olympic-level denial”), I took this as a clear sign: I was definitely ready to start dating too. I mean, we’d been separated for two years. It made sense. Right?

So, I did what any emotionally unprepared but suddenly competitive woman would do: I crowdsourced my love life from my coworkers. These were women with years of swiping experience, and they didn’t hesitate to guide me toward the easiest and most convenient platform for beginners—Facebook Dating.

Because nothing says “ready for love” like downloading a dating app out of sheer spite.

Facebook Dating welcomed me with open arms, questionable shirtless selfies, and bios that included things like: “Not looking for drama” (translation: I am the drama), “Just a nice guy” (translation: definitely not), and my personal favorite—“I’ll know you’re the one if you love The Office and hate your ex.” Charming.

My coworkers helped me build my profile like we were assembling an IKEA bookshelf. They debated over my photos (“Use the one where you look mysterious, not the one where you’re walking in the woods with no makeup”) and helped me craft a bio that said “confident and chill” when I was actually feeling “anxious and raw.”

But I wasn’t really looking for love. I was looking for validation. For proof that someone—anyone—would want me now that I was no longer a wife.

Within minutes, matches rolled in. Some men came in hot with “Hey sexy,” while others went the full paragraph route—listing their accomplishments, astrological signs, and sometimes a tragic personal loss—before I even responded with “Hi.”

By the second date, it hit me—I had no business pretending to be charming over cocktails when I was still mentally arguing with my ex in the shower. I wasn’t healed. I was just competing.

But here’s the thing: sometimes swiping out of spite reminds you that you’re still interesting, attractive, and capable of flirting without crying. It doesn’t mean you’re ready. It just means you’re alive.

No love story here, but I did get reminded that I'm charming, hilarious, and apparently irresistible to men who think a tilapia and a torso is the ultimate thirst trap.

So… progress? Somewhat but right now I'm brewing my Bengali spice tea in my fleece pajamas and going back to my werewolf and vampire books where everything is so simple.