Single Dad, Double Espresso

Tag: mental-health

  • Emotional Cost and Double Shots

    Emotional Cost and Double Shots

    The energy it takes to date men is beyond anything I was ready for. This week I had a beach date with a guy who, on paper, checked every box I could imagine. The day before, we’d been texting and voice noting nonstop. He was tall, handsome, a small-town BC boy with a truck and a solid job.

    After a couple of hours of chatting and a quick swim, I walked away thinking this man was a real contender, the best I’ve seen so far. I kissed him on his way out, already curious where things might go. And then… silence.

    The next night, I got the classic “misaligned values” text. Just like that. No follow-up date, no real conversation, just a full stop.

    I’m at such a loss. How do you go from saying the same things, articulating feelings so clearly, and then pulling the plug before there’s even a chance to see what’s real? It boggles my mind, and honestly, it’s fucking disheartening.

    It’s a hard one to swallow. I keep trying to temper my expectations because, up until now, it’s always ended in disappointment. This time I really thought it was different. Nope.

    Dating feels like a cycle of hope, spark, and sudden collapse, and each time, it takes a little more energy to keep showing up.

    Why Commitment Feels Like a Ghost Story

    This cycle isn’t just me, it’s a running theme in the gay community. So why is commitment such a struggle?

    Fear of vulnerability. Many gay men grow up hiding parts of themselves, learning early that showing too much is risky. That doesn’t just switch off when you start dating. When someone shows up with genuine interest, it can trigger fear, better to pull away than risk being exposed.

    Endless choice. Apps have turned dating into shopping. Why settle when another option is one swipe away? The idea of “better” is always dangling just out of reach, making it easier to move on than to lean in.

    Shame in the shadows. Even after coming out, a lot of us wrestle with internalized shame. Real commitment requires confronting those old scars. That takes work many aren’t ready for, so they choose casual, surface-level encounters instead.

    Not ready, not honest. Sometimes the truth is simpler: someone isn’t in a place to commit. But instead of saying, “I’m not ready,” they wrap it up in a vague “misaligned values” text, leaving the other person confused and gutted.

    The Emotional Cost

    The hardest part isn’t the rejection itself. It’s the cycle of hope, spark, and sudden collapse. You show up, you give energy, you believe this one might be different. Then the rug gets pulled before it even has a chance to be real.

    Dating feels like taking double shots of espresso: quick hits of energy and promise, followed by a crash that leaves you more drained than before. And yet, somehow, we keep showing up, because hope, even fragile, is still hope.

  • Single Dad, Snack Packs & Six-Packs

    Single Dad, Snack Packs & Six-Packs

    The culture clash of dad life and gay life.

    Saying I was not ready is putting it politely. I had not dated since I was 26, back when apps were still something you ordered at a restaurant. I met my ex in person at work, in the wild, like a vintage love story. Then I took the plunge into Grindr for the chaos, Tinder for the chaos wearing jeans, and Hinge where everyone pretends they are above chaos while still bathing in it. I was not prepared. I went through endless drinks, too many coffee dates to count, and seawall walks that felt like cardio punishment. Every encounter seemed to end in something comical, something bizarre, or something that made me wonder if I should have stayed home and alphabetized my spice rack.

    I did what I thought was the thing to do. I dove headfirst into the gay scene and racked up more partners in that first year than I had in my entire life before it. And for what? A gold medal in bad decisions? I felt dirty, I felt used, and my confidence was on life support. My mental health was circling the drain. There is nothing quite like having the most intimate moment imaginable with another human only to be ghosted before the sheets have even cooled. It took me almost three years to finally get it through my head that it is not me. Nine times out of ten it is them, their baggage, and their endless search for the next dopamine hit. I was never the problem. I was just the layover before their next emotional flight.

    Trying to connect with people who have never had a substantial relationship and do not understand the give and take it requires has been far more work than I could have imagined. Add to that the fact that I have two children who rely on me to be strong, grounded, and ready to drop everything for them at a moment’s notice, and it sends many men running. I used to hold off on mentioning that I was a dad until we met in person, but now I lead with it. It saves time and weeds out the ones who are not built for my reality.

    On those first few dates, I listen hard. I am not just hearing the words, I am searching for the cracks where the real thoughts slip through, the little hints of what they value when they think they are just making conversation. That is where you see someone’s truth, and that is what tells me if we might actually have something. I keep holding onto this hope that the right person will show up and we will just fit, like our lives were always meant to run side by side. But the more dates, hangouts, and hookups I go through, the more it feels like that hope is slipping away, piece by piece.

    I do press on, but man, it is tough out there… like “trying to fold a fitted sheet in a windstorm” tough.

  • Car Seats & Commitment Issues

    Car Seats & Commitment Issues

    Because life comes with both

    Therapy was the best thing I could have done after everything I’d been through, especially before diving headfirst back into the dating scene. And dive I did, into dating both men and women. What followed was a whirlwind of dysfunction and commitment issues.

    I don’t want to sound completely cynical, there are good people out there looking for the same things you and I are. But stepping back from the apps for a while has left me amazed (and sometimes disheartened) by how people treat each other.

    Dating as a single dad is a bit like playing two entirely different sports at the same time, one in a nightclub full of flashing lights and shirtless torsos, the other in a quiet library where everyone’s whispering and taking notes.

    On the gay side, the apps feel like an endless club where every profile picture is from 2018, every height is suspiciously “5’10” 😉,” and bios brag about being “masc, chill, and drama-free” while they’re actively starting drama in another chat. Matches can go from flirty to full-on ghosted in under an hour. It’s all about instant gratification, until they realize I can’t “come over” in 20 minutes because I’m knee-deep in bedtime stories and snack negotiations. Lining up a date is like trying to dock two ships in the dark during a storm: my schedule’s tight, their patience is short, and somewhere in there, the mood dies.

    On the women’s side, dating apps are slower, more thoughtful, and far less likely to hit me with an unsolicited anatomy pic. But “Hey” to “Let’s meet” can take longer than some celebrity marriages. Add in dad duties, and it becomes an Olympic sport in calendar coordination: “I can do Tuesday after soccer practice if you can do Thursday next week after bedtime, unless my kid gets sick or your cat needs an emergency vet visit.” Women tend to be more empathetic about parenting chaos, but hesitation and overthinking can still stall things before they start.

    In both worlds, there are genuine, wonderful people out there, but finding them means navigating ghosters, overthinkers, and people whose schedules align with mine about once every lunar eclipse. And honestly? That’s before you even get to the part where you decide if you actually like each other.

    The truth is, modern app dating runs on commitment issues. Too many people are chasing the idea of connection but flinch the moment it starts to get real, always wondering if there’s someone “better” just a swipe away. The apps make it easy to start talking, but even easier to disappear. These days, dating isn’t just about finding someone you click with, it’s about finding someone willing to stay once the clicking stops feeling shiny and new.