In Which I Lie

I am not a good writer.

Okay, that's a lie. I actually am, if I believe anything my high school teachers and college professors and working professionals have told me throughout the years. A professor once told me I should write a children's book, which I suspect also had a lot to do with the fact that I'm still a big child in a lot of ways, but I digress.

For the most part, my writing is on Catholic and Christian themes. I've written and talked a lot about sex and other supposedly taboo topics and how they fit into the religious culture, and that often leads people to suppose that's all I write or even think about. That's true. I am a walking saint.

Yeah, that's a lie. If I was any saint I'm currently more like the ones who really effed up in their early life and barely got it together before they died a crazy death for Christ. I can feel the sword on my neck now. Anyway.

During this effed up life of mine I have yet to get married. When I was in elementary school I thought 20 was hella old and when I was in high school I thought I'd be married by 25. Well, I just turned 29 this year and there is nary a husband in sight. A lot of people think this is because I'm a homebody good little pretty-pretty princess and they would be right. I've never gone to bars and let strangers buy me drinks or started talking to random dudes or tried online dating or dating apps or anything like that. I don't touch those things with a ten foot pole.

Lie. I may go to church and love Jesus and not believe in sex before marriage but that doesn't mean I live under a rock. The problem with this attitude is a lot of God-fearing people think they have to. Live under a rock, that is. But we're called to be in the world, just not of it. And for the most part, I try to embrace that. That includes putting myself out there when dating, not just praying that I'll meet my husband in the pew behind me. But if modern dating has taught me anything, it's that I know exactly what I want: a man who specializes in shirtless selfies.

That was another lie. In case you don't know, online dating and dating apps look like this: shirtless selfie, pic with dog, beer in hand, here's me in a suit, dog in car, peace sign, dog on sofa, shirtless selfie, dog, dog, dog. I know they call dogs man's best friend but if you have a best friend showing up in that many of your pictures maybe you should just marry her already?

In all seriousness, online profiles include some of the best writers I've ever come across. Take this gem:

If online dating and Alladen has taught me anything it's that you should [bee emoji] yourself. See what I did there? [winky emoji]

Why yes, I see what you did there. You misspelled Aladdin and didn't tell me any actual information about yourself. Swipes left.

In case you didn't realize, that first statement was a lie. Online dating does not profile the world's best writers.

In case you think I'm knocking everyone who tries online dating, that's not true. I'm trying it, aren't I? And I know a lot of great people who have met similarly great people online, and now they have a great relationship. That's actually not a lie. It's not always the best experience, but it's another experience, and I prefer to up my odds as much as possible while I'm also scanning the pew behind me. If all else fails, at least I can write about it. I've heard I'm a pretty good writer.