J and I have discovered since we returned from our trip that we’re lonely. We met some amazing people on the cruise. There were these two great gay guys who sang karaoke with us; there was the newlywed couple who sat at our dinner table who celebrated our anniversary with us; add to that the vivacious newly out 48-year-old lesbian; and finally, we had the wonderful piano player from the ship who reminded us that we are still young and hip and sexy. These interactions were the highlight of our trip. Yes, we enjoyed our time on the beach, loved dancing and eating great food, but the human connections really feed us.
We both love meeting people, entertaining, having great conversations, and just enjoying the company of old and new friends. Upon returning from our trip, though, we have discovered that these human interactions are seriously missing from our lives. Moving was so exciting to us for so long, and the prospect of meeting people was absolutely enticing. Now that we’re here, we’re finding the act of meeting new people much more complicated than we had imagined.
We’ve tried a few different measures with varying results:
- I responded to an ad for a walking buddy on craig.slist, and I did meet a woman whom I walked with for about a month. Unfortunately, she had a penchance for chattering constantly about how she couldn’t stand being in the same room as “disgusting fat people.” She was also glad that there were so many attractive people in our town because there is “nothing worse than being around ugly people all the time.” Her unrelenting racist comments didn’t help either. Every day (I’m not exaggerating), she would say things like, “I don’t want to sound prejudiced, but it’s the Mexicans‘ fault that there’s crime here.” Or she would say, “I’m not being prejudiced, but we had to move out of New Orleans because of the Blacks.” Each time she would mention one of these ethnic/race identities, she would whisper the word, as though it were so offensive, it ought not be uttered aloud. One day, I had had enough of her chatter about fat, ugly, nonwhite people about two miles into our three-mile walk, and I said, “I can’t do this anymore. I’ve never met someone so intolerant. This just isn’t going to work.” I had to break up with her after just a month. I’ve never had to do this before, and I realized that making friends certainly isn’t going to be as easy as responding to ads on craig.slist.
- Before I learned this valuable lesson, I also posted an ad on craig.slist to try and meet lesbian moms and lesbian moms-to-be in our area. We ended up meeting two couples for dinner and drinks one evening, but it just didn’t work. I don’t know if it was chemistry, the fact that they were all appalled at the thought that we were not doing IUI with expensive cryobank sperm, or whether it was just an off night. Whatever it was, no friendships came from it despite our follow-up emails.
- J has made her own efforts, which is good because she really is the extroverted partner in our relationship. She has people she chats with at a local cafe, and she has befriended a very troubled young gay man. While he’s sweet and fun to talk with, his troubles interfere with him being close to much of anyone, and we’re honestly not sure we need to bring another lost soul into our lives when we’re trying to get pregnant. Still, at least she has some people she talks with on a more regular basis.
- We started attending our local UU (Unitarian Universalist) fellowship, but it’s too early to have made friends there. This is the most promising lead so far.
All of that aside, we are still lonely and still wondering where we are going to meet our people. We have learned since we moved here that our town is one where very wealthy people go to retire. It’s not a place where there are many families or people under the age of fifty, and while there are queer folk, most of them are older, lesbian-hating gay men. We’re feeling a little stuck.
I hate to complain though. We’ve just realized that we’ve hit one of the larger obstacles associated with moving to a new place, and while I know we’ll move past this and meet our people at some point, right now, we’re trying to brainstorm some new ways of meeting genuine, fun people. It will happen, but it’s a little depressing right now.
For those of you who waded through my whining, I do have a reward of some TTC updates and phantom symptoms: I still have super-sore boobs, and I had some lower back cramps yesterday. I’m exhausted too, but I blame the vacation recovery for this. J is convinced that I’m not pregnant because of the sore boobs, and I’m inclined to agree with her. This is much like PMS–although admittedly a bit more pronounced. I’m not getting my hopes up. It’s CD10. If the blood doesn’t show in two days, we’ll test again.