Bachelorette in Hell


Carrie – Move over Bachelor in Paradise, there’s a new show called Bachelorette in Hell and it is my love life. (That was cheesy, I apologize.)

Throughout the first few weeks of January, in order to get over my obsession with Mr. Heart Emoji, I distract myself with an app called Bumble where the girl has to talk to the guy first. Now, I’m pretty good with alluring men with one liners. In fact, I arrange three dates in one weekend.

Keeping em? That’s a different story (aka this blog post).

Bachelor One

was a hot, adventurous type with cool pics of him scuba diving, surfing, and snowboarding in exotic locales. I wanted it so badly to work with him because I thought he was a cool (and smoking hot) person from his photos. Turns out, we didn’t even make it to the first date round because he could not maintain a conversation. In fact, his last text to me was something about “I like a lot of things about girls, but weird isn’t one of them.”


Clearly, that wasn’t gonna work out considering it’s me.

Bachelor Two – IG Frat Boy

was equally hot, like I’m talking Instagram Model hot with the six pack of abs, tan skin, and beautiful green eyes. But he was younger, a frat boy, and couldn’t talk about anything other than alcohol, parties, and Brazil where he had just gotten back from exchange. Because he was my first date in nine months, I got the ‘blank slate effect’ where I thought the date wasn’t so bad, but mainly because I had nothing to compare it to. He made me pay for my own drinks at the end of the night (which was 8 pm because we both had parties to go to #priorities). I know this is a tough one. While I am a feminist, I also am a generous person. If the person isn’t springing when there is a cultural norm to do so, then it’s looking like it’s going to be a take-take relationship right from the get-go. I was already deducing his slight self-obsession from our conversations. We walked over to get a bagel at a famous bagel shop and he stopped to kiss me outside of a Mister Muffler, real romantic. While he was a great kisser and we had plenty of physical chemistry, I wasn’t wowed by any emotional connection.

Don’t Mister Mufflers turn you on?

An hour later, I get a text from him inviting me to his party. I know this is pretty indicative of what he’s looking for. But I am surprised when he continues to text me asking me to hang Sunday (when I had another date with Bachelor Three) and we arrange for Monday instead.

Bachelor Three – Mr. Chicken Nuggets

is on Sunday. I thought he was cute from his photos, but the physical connection wasn’t all there on my end. That, and he was so eager to my texts, I found it really hard to connect with such a gung-ho guy. But I felt bad cancelling on him last minute and I thought I owed it to myself to date multiple people at once. I’ve never done it (successfully – if you look back to my Chronicles of a Toronto F*ckgirl Series where I failed miserably) and it had been a year later since my last attempt to do casual dating.

To my dismay, Bachelor Three and I really get along. Like really well. Same sense of humour, he’s smart and doing his Masters of Engineering, he’s a family guy with a sister (always go for the guys with the sisters, they’re much more sensitive), and he has abs! We got along so well that when he drives me home (I had politely rejected his ride offer on the way over in case he was a kidnapper), he asks to come in and we make out on the couch for a couple of hours. He wasn’t all that good of a kisser; I vaguely remember rolling my eyes up at the ceiling as he awkwardly kissed my neck.

When he leaves that night, I feel intense guilt. I don’t owe either of these guys anything but I felt I couldn’t divide my attention between them actively and focus on school. I stop talking to Bachelor One at this point (and snub our date) and am ready to embark on date two with:

Bachelor Two – IG Frat Boy

That is, until, my friend tells me I have hickeys from the other guy.



I am constantly fixing my neck make-up as Bachelor Two confirms our date at around 4 pm after his class. I tell him if he’s too tired, that’s okay too. He says he wants to.

At 6 pm, he tells me he might be a little later cause his class doesn’t get out until 8:30 pm. I tell him that’s fine, but if he’s too tired, that’s okay too. He says he wants to, it’ll just be a bit later.

At 8:30 pm and approximately my 50th foundation touch-up and turtleneck change, he tells me he’s on his way. I ask him one more time if he’s okay, then he tells me he’s on the bus over.

Ten minutes later, I get two texts and a call from him. The bus crashed, they kicked everyone out, and the next one wasn’t for another 30 minutes. (This is Ottawa we’re talking about so that is believable). He asks if we can reschedule cause he’s going to go home. Part of me wants to believe no one would go through such an extravagant lie to bail, especially since I gave him so many outs. However, I don’t hear anything in the background of his phone and when I suggest ubering, he agrees but makes it sound like a chore. I tell him he doesn’t have to then he quickly asks to reschedule again. I tell him we’ll talk when I’m back from NYC and he agrees to talk then. He texts me after our phone call to apologize again and I say I understand.

We both don’t reach out to one another after I’m back. I am insulted he didn’t want some action with me enough but also grateful for keeping my reborn-again hymen intact. As I slowly removed the foundation from my neck that night, I was reminded why dating apps suck and why now I was all Team:

Bachelor Three – Mr. Chicken Nuggets

Bachelor Three and I chat all that night, the night after, and agree to meet Wednesday. He was my soulmate, I was convinced, when our date was beers and chicken nuggets at my place. After our beautiful meal together, we end up rolling around in bed naked for four hours. When I hesitate when he asks me to have sex, he tells me he really likes me and wouldn’t just disappear. I don’t sleep with him that night, but we allude to the fact it would be good when we did. He was respectful and I appreciated it.


At the end of the night, we’re cuddling and he kisses me on the forehead. I’m reminded of how I felt when I was in love and I thought maybe I could eventually fall in love with him too. I also recognize it is way too soon to say any of this. He tells me that I’m going to have to kick him out because he won’t leave if I’m cuddling with him. I tell him I don’t want him to go and feel myself cringe because I was definitely catching feelings. He says he’s sad he won’t see me since I’m in New York that weekend but he’ll see me when I’m back.

When he gets home, he messages me goodnight and that he hopes I sleep tight. I tell him he’s too sweet and why can’t he be an asshole. He jokes that he can be one if I want him to be. We chat the next day for a bit until bedtime where I am giggling when I go to sleep. After I get off my flight, I see a text from him saying he won’t bother me while I’m gone, but he’d love to see me when he’s back. We talk for the whole weekend up until Monday.

He had a deadline for his thesis the following Sunday so I was agreeable and understanding when he says he’s going to work hard so he can see me for dinner that week. When I don’t hear from him by Thursday (and I was leaving Saturday to go home for the week), I asked him how his work was coming along.

Uncharacteristically, it takes him hours to reply. I figure he’s working hard and I make excuses for him. But I recognize the behaviour as a red flag, because I’d seen it before, and because I had done it to him when I was seeing someone else. But I pushed this thought aside – it just didn’t make sense against everything he had said to be and acted until that point.
Friday night, he says he’ll text me when he’s done his work to sleepover. I never get a text and I know this is a horrible sign. Still, I make excuses that he’s probably stressed. He answers me Saturday morning but I don’t hear from him when I answer and I don’t hear from him when I wish him good luck on his thesis the following day. Ghosting is the worst possible thing to man-kind, especially to a double text.

He had added me on Instagram earlier despite my caution that Instagram followers are sacred. He had said it takes one click of a button to unfollow someone. And that was precisely how I find out we’re done in his mind, despite all of his cute promises of coming to yoga classes with me and dinner dates and skating on the Canal. We had joked that he wouldn’t make it to the fourth round; well we didn’t even make it to the third. He scared real fucking quick and I am beyond happy I didn’t do anything I was uncomfortable with. I texted him a “wow you were right and you can be an asshole. Have a good life”

I just don’t understand how in one week, we can go from this:

Disclaimer: k so I initiated this one but there were definitely texts from him that were v aggressive with his feelings in my defence, swear I’m not that crazy and making this shit up

To this after my final text:



The Take-Aways

My take is that dating apps skew the proportion of time we spend with one another. Our generation seems to want everything now, now, now. He was exactly the kind of asshole I was wary of, the one who makes you believe you like him (when you mainly really like the attention) and then rips it out from you as soon as you start to reciprocate. And I feel bad for him and for humanity that we’ve become accustomed to lie to someone about “family issues” when you’re just not into them or that we ghost instead of communicating “hey, I’m gonna stop talking to you.” It’s easier to lie or ghost, but can we live with ourselves at the end of the day?



I am not exempt from this shitty behaviour. The most ironic part about this is that Mr. Brazil, after ten months of silence, messaged me this weekend. And in hopes that someone will work out with Bachelor Three, I ghost Mr. Brazil’s advances to “catch up” now that he’s back in the city. But I recognized then as I recognize now, I have never recycled a guy and it’s because things ended for a reason. The way Mr. Brazil and I ended was pretty abrupt and rude, but even if things didn’t work out with Bachelor Three, I wasn’t about to condone Mr. Brazil’s fuckboy behaviour to feel better about myself that someone out there likes me enough to hit me up once after ten months.


I like me and that’s what count the most. Bachelor Three taught me that I can like someone and be honest without games. Maybe it was all a game in the end for him, but it wasn’t for me. Liking someone doesn’t have to be tumultuous like it is with Mr. Heart Emoji. It can be pure as expressing your feelings for someone, just because you think they should know. I like that about myself. As much as I keep getting burned by these losers on dating apps, I wouldn’t change myself and my vulnerability for the world.

A year ago, when this happened with Mr. Blind Spot, I was devastated. Today, when a similar thing happened with Bachelor Three, I barely even flinched. I worked on gaining my confidence from myself and me validating myself, rather than from guys.

Progress is never linear but man, when life throws you an opportunity to see how far you’ve come (and for the better), it really is the best lesson.


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