Dear Husband...

A new series documenting my search for my man.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

Dear Husband,

I’m out here in the dating app trenches looking for you. If you’re not in San Francisco or I end up meeting you in real life, I won’t be too upset, the online search has been entertaining, to say the least. I mean, who doesn’t love amusing pick-up lines, post-date debriefs, and an excuse to get dressed up? It’s all about the plot…which hopefully ends with you. 

Before I go any further, I’d like to clarify that I’m not some crazy, desperate, single woman or weirdo trying to manifest some voodoo shit by writing to a hypothetical husband. I’m just a hopeless romantic (and wanna-be blogger) who was inspired by my friend, Katie, who kept a journal for years before she met her now husband, Ryan. She took the journal with her all over the world. Each entry was addressed to her future husband until she knew in her heart that Ryan was the one. Katie finally gave her “husband journal" to Ryan the day after their wedding.  

Let’s face it, my public Substack is not as romantic as Katie’s hand-written journal, but hey, it feels fitting to publish my entries online since that’s likely where – and if – I find you. Quite frankly, this post reads better with a positive tone, so let’s just assume my search ends up being successful. Lucky for you, I’m a catch!   

You can thank my young, immature self for spending too much time in dead-end relationships. I couldn’t see that at the time, but nonetheless, those series of events brought this badass back on the market. Smarter, stronger, and more self-assured. 

That said, I must admit I never imagined I’d still be dating in my 30s, but here we are, and we’re rolling with it. When I say “we,” I mean it. If I need to be in the dating app trenches, everyone’s coming with me. Friends, family, coworkers (yes, even my team of hardcore bitcoin engineers is invested)...and now anyone who can find this Substack. 

Shoutout to my support team for boosting my re-entrance into the modern dating world. It’s hard to stand out when countless beautiful single women are just one swipe away. I hate to break it to you that at some point you were undoubtedly messaging both me and my witty friends. I had to do what I had to do to hook you into a first date. 

While you’re probably not thrilled to hear about this group effort, at least I tried to be creative. After swiping through what feels like all of San Francisco, it’s safe to assume that the majority of men rely on Reddit and ChatGPT to craft pickup lines. I get countless messages along the lines of, “Hey, would you happen to have an extra boyfriend application? I dropped and lost mine when I saw how absolutely stunning you are,” or “Give me a shot, I’m feeling good about it.” I mean…do you? 

The boring lines are even worse. It’s an immediate no if someone messages me saying, “Hey, how was your weekend?” or just, “Hey Haley” with nothing else. Not that I’m an all-star flirt, but I can certainly do better than a literal robot – ChatGPT or otherwise. 

My personal favorite is the reactions to my Hinge prompt: “Guess what instrument I used to play?” I never realized I gave off such strong clarinet vibes. So much so that I am offended by it. I played the drums, which was unique and fun. How can an insane amount of men think I’m about as cool as Squidward?

On second thought, maybe it’s the fact that the clarinet has a phallic shape and is played by blowing with the mouth. Men clearly can't keep their minds out of the gutter whether they're aware of it or not. Either way, I’m making it known now that our kids will certainly not be playing the clarinet. 

It’s extremely time-consuming to comb through terrible opening lines, weed out the duds, try-hards, and potential serial killers, and then engage in quality banter. It’s easier to mindlessly swipe while multitasking or sitting on the toilet, but that rarely leads to quality connections. To be more intentional about dating, my roommate and I made a pact to go on at least one date per week. 

I’m happy to say that we’ve stuck to the pact, so you can thank her for helping me find you. Let’s just hope it’s within a somewhat reasonable time frame. Dating is fun and all, but if I need to go on a hundred first dates, I can’t promise that I won’t be secretly over men. You can also blame said roommate if this series changes to “Dear Wife.” I’m kidding (kind of).

Anyway, we’ll see how the plot unfolds. Hopefully, you find this series endearing. If so, all I ask is that you plan something cute for me in return. I think I deserve it after everything I’m going through to find you.  

Yours truly, 

Haley