Welcome back to 100 Dates in Houston, a dating blog series chronicling my journey as a thirty-something woman on a quest to100 dates in Houston, Texas. My goal is to connect with the love of my life. If you’re new here, start with my intro post, explaining the details of this challenge. In today’s post, we explore alignment and leading with kindness, the costs of having a dating blog.

After six months in Houston, I’ve been on twelve dates with five different men.  As expected, there have been highs, lows, and lessons. And now it’s time for date #13. Lucky number 13? 

My next date would come through my dancing hobby. One Friday night, a dance friend – ya’ll know him as Bald Salsa Bae – invited me out to experience a style of dance I hadn’t yet tried – Kizomba.  He sent me a flyer of the event hosted by Dance Fever Experience and explained that there would be Kompa, Kizomba, and Afrobeats in rotation.  The theme of the event was “all black” and I was happy to have an excuse to dress up in my favorite little black dress. I was even happier to try my hand at a new partnered dance with my favorite dance partner.

I arrived at the venue, Henke and Pilot, that evening and took in my surroundings. Under the haze of smoke machines and blue LED lights, I scanned the crowd.  Young, old, tall, short, African, American, Caribbean – there was no shortage of black men in attendance.

About halfway through the evening, a youngish-looking man with a baby face and a small frame approached me to dance. He spoke with an accent that I couldn’t quite pick up. Knowing absolutely nothing about Kizomba, I shuffled along trying to keep up as he laughed and taught me the basics of the dance. He was all smiles and patience as I shamefully botched the dance that originated in his home country, Angola. 

At one point during our second dance together, instead of clasping my hand as normal in partnered dancing, he positioned his fingers to caress the palm of my hand. 

“I like your hands,” he complimented.  “They’re so warm. Are you a nurse?”

“No. Why?” I questioned. 

“People with warm hands like that are usually healers.”

“Well, I am a therapist. Maybe that’s what you’re picking up on.”

I’m not one to get all woo-woo, but I do believe it’s possible to sense a person’s spirit through seemingly trivial interactions. I may never know whether what he expressed was game, a good guess, or perhaps this man truly sensed something about me through my hands. All I knew was I liked how the conversation was flowing. There was a joy and light-heartedness about him that I found to be endearing – precious even. 

After dancing together for a few consecutive songs, The Angolan and I parted ways and I went back to dancing with Bald Salsa Bae. But we came back together for another song a short while later. This time, it was a Caribbean adaptation of one of my favorite sexy songs, Chris Brown, Under the Influence. As we slow-danced, I felt that rare dance connection I’ve mentioned before. I contemplated if I should, once again, be an independent woman of 2023 and make the first move to ask for his number. 

The Angolan and I split up one last time and I went back to dancing with Bald Salsa Bae. As much as I enjoy dancing with BSB, this time I was distracted. The night was coming to an end and the crowd was thinning out. I didn’t want this pleasant young man to leave before connecting one last time– even if he did appear to be a baby. Was he a baby? 🤔 

You all already know about my near obsession with hairlines – and he had one, though nowhere near sharp and manicured.  However, I haven’t yet shared my affinity for younger men. Now, don’t get carried away – it’s nothing extreme. The younger men I date are usually between 1-5 years my junior – young enough to still have energy (and hair), but old enough to be established in life. Does that make me a cougar?🤔I don’t necessarily seek them out. They just seem to find me. 😼

Luckily, after Bald Salsa Bae and I finished our last dance, my new friend was still around. I walked right over to him and asked for a last dance. He replied “I’m glad you came over. Your friend was hogging you but I didn’t want to leave without dancing with you again.”

As we danced, he asked me a few questions about myself.  

“So, are you college age or are you grown, grown?”

“Well, I’m thirty-nine,” I said proudly.  I don’t feel, nor do I (think I) look near forty.  Sometimes, I have to remind myself I’m a real adult. 

“What about you?” I threw his question back. He could have easily passed for a young man of twenty-five. “Are you grown, grown?”

“Oh, I’m grown. I’m sooo grown,” he flirted alluding to more than age.  

“Well, how grown are you?”

He eventually shared that he was in his late thirties as well.  We exchanged numbers, danced, and laughed for another few songs. And then we said goodnight. I walked away with a curiosity about this good-natured man with his boyish charm.  

That’s how I met The Angolan. 

the vault

Unfortunately, for now, that’s all I’ll be sharing about my time with The Angolan.  I wrote our story, but it will have to remain locked in the vault along with a few other stories and anecdotes that haven’t been published.  Perhaps I’ll release them one day in the 100 Dates in Houston memoir. 🤔

As I’m sure you all can imagine, this blog can sometimes add an extra element of complexity to the already challenging nature of dating. Through my research over the past six months, I’ve learned that there have been quite a few blogs, like The Dating Bitch, through which single women, and even a few men, share their dating escapades.  The difference is that all of those bloggers have chosen to keep their identities anonymous.  I’m the only crazy person who’s decided to put my love life on Front Street with a real name and face attached.  🫣

But I don’t bemoan my decision – not one bit! Sharing my journey with you all has been therapeutic and gratifying.  I love seeing the “ahas” and moments of confirmation that you share in the comments.  Knowing that I’m inspiring, educating, and entertaining you gives me great joy!

weighing the costs

While I enjoy sharing, there is a bit of a price for my transparency.  There have been people (usually men) who’ve misunderstood the intentions of this blog, stating that I’m going on dates looking for content or meals. There have also been those who assume that I’m sexually entertaining all the men I meet. Then there’s the fact that I’m laying (most of) my cards out on the table for public consumption.  Whew! 🥵

Finally, there are the would-be dates that never happen. I distinctly remember when I discovered that men Google us before dates just as we do them! I was a few months into blogging and had matched with a man (also a youngin’) on Bumble. The conversation seemed to be flowing so we exchanged numbers.  Two days later, he shared that he’d found my blog and was feeling nervous – not because he feared being exposed, but because he was uncomfortable with the idea of being critiqued in the ways my previous dates had been. He sounded stressed.

Whether it’s laid out on a screen in my blog or dancing around in the tapestry of my mind, dating is naturally a process of vetting and assessing. It’s going to happen regardless – but I digress. 🤷🏾‍♀️

The Youngin’ complimented my writing and tried to hang in there but ghosted me just two days later.  Poor thing. I suppose I scared him off.

There was also NDA guy.  A friend of mine and her husband had been attempting to play Cupid by setting me up with his classmate.  Apparently, the man was working on his Ph.D., had a little bit of money, and a lot to lose.  He told my friends that I would need to sign a nondisclosure agreement for us to meet.  Bye, sir!  🙄 

prioritizing alignment

While it may have been concerning at the time, I’ve since decided that men who walk away from me because of my writing or place restrictions on my creativity are not the men for me.  And I’m ok with that – we’re simply not aligned.  Whether it be speaking as Ms. New Jersey USA, creating a TikTok, or writing this blog, much of my life’s work has required transparency and vulnerability for the sake of helping people and telling good stories. My husband will need to be ok knowing that I will be sharing aspects of our life and love publicly.  Such a man will need to be secure in himself and less concerned about what people think – which, blog aside, I find extremely attractive.  In a way, this little writing project does some vetting for me. My pool is smaller, but better.  

Leading with kindness

That said, I’m going to refer back to my very first post in this series.  One of the parameters I set for myself was to lead with kindness.  My dates are real people – not vehicles for public consumption.  If a man agrees to date me – especially after knowing about my writing – I feel obligated to be responsible in how I share about him. 

While The Angolan agreed to continue dating me after discovering my blog (via his own Google investigation), over time it became obvious he wasn’t entirely comfortable with our story being public. Verbally, he gave me the green light to share and didn’t want to impede on my process, which I appreciate. However, my intuition tells me to keep this one in the vault for now. Y’all know, she never leads me astray.  So, Imma listen!

But I won’t keep you entirely in the dark. What’s important is that we went on three dates –  numbers 13, 14, and 16.  He wasn’t a bad guy, but for multiple reasons, he was  the wrong guy. 

And so, the journey continues!

So, are you willing to sacrifice the size of your pool for the sake of alignment? Did you know men Google their dates? And what did you think of The Angolan? I want to hear from you in the comments. Don’t forget, you can support this project by tapping the “buy me a coffee” tab or sharing this post in one of your online circles. I want to build this community. Until next time, be blessed! ~Kaity