But now I was 50, older and hopefully wiser, and I just assumed that men my age were like plums ready for the plucking.  How hard could it be? All I really wanted was a nice guy. Just a plain ole nice guy.

You know…

• A guy who I could talk to; who would listen to me as I poured my heart out.
• A guy who would be OK with the fact that I still occasionally thought about Mike and who would also love my daughter.
• A guy who was financially solvent and would love to travel (on my schedule, of course).
• A guy who didn’t smoke or drink and who believed in God. He would also be bright, a good kisser, love his work, be self assured without being cocky, be generous, kind and respectful, socially comfortable, and he would know how to fight fair.
• And he had to be OK with giving me lots of space. I didn’t want any one hanging on me.
• Oh yeah, he had to smell good, he didn’t have to be gorgeous, (that never really mattered to me) but he had to feel good about who he was.
• Oh, and it would be good if he could dance and ski be willing to do the dishes and occasionally vacuum.  And get along with my friends.
• He would love coffee in bed on Sunday mornings and even better, he would want to be the one to make it and he would read the New York Times, although I suppose I could settle for the Globe.
• He would definitely be a liberal. And he had to like dogs. (My cat will be leaving the house when my daughter does so I did not feel the need to include ‘must love cats’ and furthermore I didn’t want to make my list impossibly difficult.) 
• And just a few more things…he had to love to laugh, to appreciate classical music, be mentally stable, or at least as stable as I was, (not all that hard) and he HAD to be healthy. (After living with Mike’s cancer for over 10 years, I felt fully justified in asking for a clean bill of health.  This would include satisfactory results of an MRI, CAT scan, PET scan, liver scan, blood work, EEG and cardiogram. In return, I would spring for the coffee.)

And finally, he would have to think I am sexy, or at least sexy for a 50 something, he would like to read, he would be into learning, and he would have a clean house.

Ok. Maybe I wanted a bit more than a plain ole nice guy. But now that I was done crying, wasn’t the world was my oyster? Weren’t there plenty of fish in the sea? Couldn’t I just apply “The Secret” and materialize my next man?

I gathered up my can-do attitude and wrote a killer profile.  It was a work of art as well as honest and with the help of spell check, there were no typos. I used phrases like “classic looking”, “mildly eccentric” and “slightly irreverent” and I admitted that I liked to shovel snow. What sane man wouldn’t find that totally appealing???

And then I waited. Being a child of the 50′s, although quite liberated, I was not going to chase after him. He was going to have to find me. And after what felt like 8 years, (actually it was about 2 days), the emails began trickling in. And I do mean, trickling.

I have learned a whole lot from Internet dating.

Read more of this article here:

http://www.babyboomerdatingsite.com/online-dating-articles.html

Mie Elmhirst, Coach, Guest Author
Coach for Widows
www.widowsbreathe.com