On the lonely taxi ride home, I marveled at my heart’s gullibility. I couldn’t believe I had let myself get so worked up! To become so emotionally involved! So unsure of myself! To think I was devouring French literature in order to impress him!
He
should have been devouring things to impress
me
!
TIPS FOR ONLINE DATING:
Don’t change your criteria just because an entire e-pool of men has opened up before you. Stay strict about what you’re looking for and refer to my aforementioned Castle Crew guidelines. You won’t be able to hear his accent over an email, so at the very least make sure he went to an appropriate British boarding school or university.
Witty in an email does not mean witty in real life. Not all Englishmen are natural raconteurs, but well-written emails can give them the appearance of being so.
Do not exchange emails for more than a week or you’ll become more emotionally attached to him (or, more accurately, emotionally attached to who you think he is) than you realize.
Have confidence in yourself and arrange to meet up as soon as possible. That way, if sparks don’t fly, you haven’t wasted too much time or invested too much of your heart and soul.
Agree to meet for a drink (not dinner) so you have the option of leaving early if he’s not your type. (This only backfires when the guy orders a second bottle of wine while you’re in the loo and you are forced to politely consume several more glasses on an empty stomach before you can make your exit. Yes, I speak from experience.)
Occasionally sparks
do
fly! I’ve been to five weddings (and counting) of couples who met online. I have no doubt there will be more to come.
Let’s say you’ve been dating (and non-dating) an Englishman for several weeks. Things seem to be going well—he is affectionate, complimentary, and flirty every time you see him; you have met a smattering of his friends; you’ve seen each other’s flats (with the occasional sleepover); and you genuinely seem to be having fun in each other’s company. You might be sleeping together, you might not be, but in any case you’ve made plans to go to the cinema next Friday night.
In the week that follows, he doesn’t call you, but you shrug it off assuming he is busy. All of your texts to him are met with one-word answers, but you don’t think much of it. But then Thursday night rolls around and you still haven’t heard from him. On Friday afternoon he might (
might!
) text you with a cryptic explanation like “something came up.” That’s the good scenario.
The bad scenario involves no text warning whatsoever and he simply drops off the face of the earth, never to be heard from again. Total radio silence.
For all you know he’s really and truly been abducted by aliens, but whatever the reason he simply vanishes from your life. In the course of my London dating career, this happened to me at least four or five times. (It may actually have happened to me more than this, but for my own sanity, I stopped counting.) This same pattern has also happened to dozens of girlfriends of mine—both English and American.
So what is the deal? Why are these aliens selfishly abducting so many of our beloved Englishmen? I’m not entirely sure. I’m simply not willing to believe that all English guys are bastards. Nor am I willing to believe (mainly because it’s just too depressing) that English guys are going to put in all that long-term romantic effort for the sake of a few make-out sessions if all along they have secret plans to escape to the mother ship.
So here is my theory: As with all things in their lives, Englishmen do what they think is expected of them. Their peers, their parents, and their entire social class and structure expect them to engage in some kind of courtship with a girl that will eventually lead to a serious and permanent relationship. Most Englishmen have no idea how to go about doing this (or have any idea if they even
want
to be doing this), but nevertheless they maintain a stiff upper lip and do their best to meet everyone’s expectations—including yours.
Dating is awkward for them because in reality they are just going through the motions, and they haven’t quite figured out that
real
courtship requires genuine passion, honest emotions, and a certain level of informality and spontaneity—all of which are qualities that are entirely un-English.
Still, he does what he
thinks
he should do and acts how he
thinks
he should act and is extremely charming and polite while doing so. He
thinks
he should make you feel beautiful and special, so he does just that (and happens to do it in a devastating accent that makes you melt into a puddle on the floor). He
thinks
he should act like a perfect gentleman, so he does. Meanwhile, you don’t have a hope in hell. Of course you’re going to fall for him!
I mean, based on his behavior, he seems seriously interested in you—so you begin to reciprocate. That’s when the Englishman starts to panic. He is officially in over his head and starts sending frantic SOS alarm signals to the mother ship. He clearly can’t tell you what he is feeling—that would involve (a) admitting feelings, (b) verbalizing feelings, and (c) confrontation—all of which are unthinkable for an English male. Instead, he thinks it’s best if he just disappears for a while and pretends the whole thing never happened. It’s around now that you start wondering why you haven’t heard from him in more than a week.
In some cases, you will hear from him six months later through Facebook. It will be some cute, neutral, sometimes flirtatious message just to see “how you are” or “what you’re up to.” It’s his inept English way of admitting that he’s behaved badly, absolving his guilt, and clearing the air in case your paths cross again through mutual friends. He sends this message not necessarily because he wants to, but because he
thinks he should
.
I must reiterate that alien abductions are by no means the norm, but I feel it is my duty to warn my American sisters of their existence. And while alien abductions can be painful—I firmly believe that they can’t be nearly as painful as going through life never having dated an Englishman.
Whenever my particular Englishman of the moment was abducted by aliens, I was confused and devastated (and often genuinely heartbroken)—but more than anything I was convinced that I could use my feminine wiles to win him back.
I made this mistake time and time again before it finally dawned on me to stop giving my heart to one English guy after another—when they clearly hadn’t asked for it. If an Englishman pulls back and retreats to his mother ship, he is not engaging in the mythical tactic known as “treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen”—it is genuinely because he is simply not ready for a grown-up relationship.
For years, I point-blank refused to believe this. So I busied myself with all kinds of harebrained strategies to make these British boys see the light, to make them realize that the mother ship was
not
where they wanted to be. I thought if they only realized
how much
I cared for them, then they would automatically decide to care for me in return. Most of the time, my efforts failed, and I only felt further rejected. But sometimes, my flirty texts or well-timed Facebook messages would pay off and he’d actually ask to see me again. But this scenario was almost worse, because deep down, I knew that I had not won him back, I had just temporarily outsmarted him! And deep down, who wants a guy that you have to trick into going out with you?
I’ll never forget the moment when the above epiphany occurred to me. It was almost midnight on a Sunday and I was sitting in my tiny London bedroom, painting my nails seashell pink—when the thought just popped into my brain:
If a guy doesn’t want to be with me, it’s because he is not the right guy for
me.
Let me tell you, the sheer clarity of it nearly knocked me over.
And from that day on, my English dating life changed. Because I finally realized that when love isn’t in our lives, it’s because
true love
is on its way.
R
ECOMMENDED
R
EADING:
Bridget Jones’s Diary
by Helen Fielding
Yes, the movie stars Hugh Grant at his devilish best, but I promise you the book is even better. This book
defined
the literary genre of brainy yet batty girls wandering through London looking for Mr. Right yet always falling for Mr. Wrong. Fielding is the Nancy Mitford of our generation, and as far as I’m concerned
Bridget Jones’s Diary
is such a classic that it belongs on every English syllabus. If you’re dating, or attempting to date, English guys, you must, must read it.