With every PCS, I’m forced to start dating again – friendship-dating, that is.
Picture this. A speed dating service for military spouses, but instead of looking for a hot date, the service helps us find friends in a new community. Doesn’t that sound like a wonderful idea? What should we call it? www.milspousematch.com or www.militaryharmony.com ?
I just PCS’d – again. Nothing but boxes and paper and unfinished rooms surround me, my children are bored out of their minds and need more than their mom and Wii to play with. I don’t know a soul in Ohio. A few weeks ago, I left the best group of friends and the “Dream Team” of military spouses. Now, I have to start over, again. I’m fantasizing of this imaginary online friendship matching service and if it were real, I would join in a hot second.
Finding and making new friends and re-building my support network after a move is a lot like dating again. And I hated the dating scene when I was single.
First, I have to leave the house. New friends are not going to find me while I’m under a ton of cardboard boxes, engulfed in dull brown paper and tripping on random items lying around the house. However, I can’t just wander outside in my ugly yoga pants and torn t-shirt. No, I actually have to make an effort before I leave the house because you never know if I might run into a potential friend at Target or the park.
Today is the day, I can’t take it anymore. I need to talk to someone else besides my kids. I put on my cutest “mom” clothes, run a brush through my hair and head out the door with children in tow. I can do this. To park I go, hoping to find a neighbor or another mom to connect with.
I spot someone who has the same age children I have at the park. I take a deep breath, wondering when is the right time to approach her. What could I ask her to start a conversation? Maybe she is new, as well? She could be waiting to find a new bestie, too. I’m so nervous. I frantically review different scenarios and questions in my head, hoping not to sound desperate.