September 10, 2022
The Old Maids, 1947, Leonora Carrington (1917-2011). Oil on canvas, 58.2 x 73.8 cm. Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts, Norwich, UK. Image courtesy of Obelisk Art History.
Can you ever escape a past of toxic boyfriends (or girlfriends, too, I suppose) and the resulting psychological trauma? Can you ever conquer the niggling fear of history repeating itself with matches on dating apps? Fear that you will be gutted yet again by another person you grow to care about? These are questions I often ponder. According to Tara Barnett in an August 19, 2022, WiseGeek article “What is the Connection between Abuse and Self-Esteem?,” emotional abuse is often much more damaging to a person's self-esteem than physical abuse. I have come to the conclusion that perhaps those of us who are survivors of emotionally and verbally abusive relationships are not cut out for dating apps. I’ve tried a bunch: Bumble, Happn, Coffee Meets Bagel, Match, Plenty of Fish, Ok Cupid, Hinge, even Tinder– perhaps the lowest of the low for its reputation as a hook-up app, which I’m not proud of. I’ve quit all of them because they trigger panic attacks of memories I have spent many years trying to forget. Complicating this is the double standard for women on these apps. To challenge an old saying, a profile picture is not worth a thousand words. It tells nothing really about a person apart from physical appearance.
Image Courtesy of The Daily Mail.
Then there is also the underlying pressure for women to downplay intelligence to attract more matches. Some men seem to find an intelligent woman intimidating or dangerous to their egos. They become scathing and hurtful, but I, for one, refuse to “dumb myself down” just to seem more appealing. So maybe I bring this on myself, but small talk becomes boring. I’d rather have meaningful conversations where I learn something about the other person. Better yet would be finding someone knowledgeable about art history with whom I could compare notes about favorite artworks, artists, and art movements. Many people automatically assume that because I write about art, I must be an artist too. But I am not. I’m just scared. Scared of the pain.
If I were to choose an art movement to illustrate my inner turmoil and frustration with online dating, I would choose Surrealism for its dreamy, fantastical, sometimes nightmarish imagery and metaphorical symbolism. The paintings included in this post are by Leonora Carrington (1917-2011), a British-born Mexican artist, Surrealist painter, and novelist who "feminized Surrealism" and whose haunting work, often featuring women, reflects all the pain, angst, and fear I carry inside.
First, I do not want to end up an old maid (see The Old Maids, 1947). I just turned 35 last month and 40 no longer seems far off. I have gray hairs to prove it. I don’t expect to have children at this point, and, frankly, I dream of some traveling instead. Secondly, I want someone who appreciates art and will take me seriously and engage in conversation at museums and galleries (Mujeres Conciencia, 1972).
Mujeres Conciencia (Conscious Women), 1972, Leonora Carrington. Mixed media on board, 29 1/2 x 19 3/10 inches (75 x 49 cm), © 2019 Estate of Leonora Carrington / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. Image courtesy of Wendi Norris Gallery, San Francisco, CA.
Finally, while I cannot predict the future (La Maja del Tarot, 1965), I believe that there is someone for everyone unless you are a person who avoids serious relationships as a matter of principle and enjoys being unattached.
La Maja del Tarot (Woman of the Tarot),1965, Leonora Carrington. Oil on canvas, 79 1/8 x 70 1/2 inches (201 x 179.1 cm) Image courtesy of Wendi Norris Gallery,
San Francisco, CA.
Despite my negative experiences, I know that I am a smart, strong, fun-loving, witty, adventurous and passionate person worthy of love. But I'm going to wait now and let time unfold. No more dating apps for me. To anyone reading this, can you relate?