TODAY style contributor Bobbie Thomas has been open about her grief after the loss of her husband, Michael, in December 2020. More than two years later, Bobbie is ready — or trying to be ready! — to get back onto the dating scene, although she says doing so brings up lots of complicated feelings.
In a new series for TODAY.com, “Bobbie’s Dating Diary,” she’ll take readers along as she figures out how the apps work, how to juggle dating with being a solo parent to her son, Miles, and how she can look toward the future without forgetting any of her past.
Read more below:
Bobbie’s Dating Diary: I never thought I’d kiss another man again — and then, the butterflies came
Bobbie’s Dating Diary: A message to anyone who wonders why I’m doing this
CREDIT: NBC NEWS / TODAY
Bobbie’s Dating Diary: I never thought I’d kiss another man again — and then, the butterflies came
By: Bobbie Thomas
April 1, 2023
A confession
I stepped into this world of online dating unsure if I was really ready — but I had no idea how many feelings were sitting just below the surface. Something about saying “okay, yes” out loud has allowed me to acknowledge how much I miss feeling close to someone: the hello hug or kiss goodbye, their hand on my back, the tucking of my hair behind my ear.
It spirals into so much self doubt at times. A part of me wonders: ‘How could I ever love someone so deeply again?’ I also doubt how someone could ever love me — all of me, with the baggage, responsibilities, and permanent mark on my heart left by Michael. And I also wonder how I’ll ever get the guts to let someone new see the ‘now’ me, with my older not-so-tight bod, post-baby tummy, scars and all.
Michael had the preview but had also evolved alongside me over the years. Without context, I feel less confident baring all. Someone new sounds exhilarating, but a supportive, caring, loyal and lasting partnership makes every inch of you feel loved unconditionally.
April 5
Houston, we have a message!
Wow, getting a conversation off the ground is so much tougher than I had expected. I was excited to see a few messages pop up in my app, but I was nervous to read them, let alone respond.
*Ping*
“Hi Bobbie! Nice to meet you here.”
And now the ball is now in my court. For some reason, I couldn’t think of anything beyond: “Hi, you too.” What am I doing? Note to self: ice breakers needed. And I’m embarrassed, but I have to be honest here: I dropped the ball on many of the app messages because I just couldn’t think of anything — nothing, nothing at all! — to say. There were a few OK chats, thanks to info shared in the profiles, but I’ve found it’s really hard to know if you like someone when you can’t experience someone’s in-person vibe. Thinking back to my past, I’ve always been most attracted to someone’s actions: how he treated others, made me feel, and carried himself.
I was beginning to get discouraged by the online chats, and then the text I had been hoping for flashed across my screen. Remember the fellow widowed parent I had met up with for coffee? He finally reached out. I’ve been telling myself that if he asks to get the kids together again, then I’d know where his interest was. Sure enough, he wrote: “Let’s do something!” … with the kids. My heart sighed.
But when I looked back at my phone 30 minutes later, I had missed a second text: “I would also love to go out without the kiddos.” Eek! I’m not sure I remember the last time I felt this way. There it was: that sudden spark that zaps your stomach with butterflies.
24 hours later, I was sitting across from him, still slightly unsure if this was a date or a “let’s trade widowed parenting tragedies” dinner. We cautiously poked around with a few questions, but the anxiety was quickly replaced with knowing nods and mutual understanding of topics I usually dread explaining to someone. It was nice to just… be. To be both present and understood…and yes, to be kissed! But best of all, it was nice to receive this text right after he left: “Tonight was amazing. Thank you for being so thoughtful and funny and loving and interesting and beautiful.”
Swoon?
April 8
Reality Check
I know that I am “a lot” in some ways. And while that’s okay in certain aspects of my life, in others, I can’t help but question if I’m too much for someone else to handle. Will my complexities, my vulnerabilities, and my insecurities be too overwhelming for someone else? Being a widow is not just a part of my story, but a stark reality that I have to face every day. Caring for my son (and his big feelings) alone, managing a household and life without a partner, all while navigating an atypical career can be overwhelming at times. (Not to mention sharing my dating diary with the world!) I also need to balance keeping up with family and friends, both mine and Michael’s, while doing my best to squeeze in self-care.
I’m trying to make sense of this newness in my life, but it’s unsettling. It’s like navigating uncharted waters with the constraints of a life built. I remember when getting to know someone new used to be easy, when I was more flexible and less tired. Oh, how I miss the days when I was in my 30s, full of brightness and optimism.
April 11
All or Nothing
“I thought it was all or nothing? Wouldn’t that leave like…a stripe?!” I’m floored, gutted, and crying laughing at my 20-year-old assistant’s reaction. I don’t think there is any better confirmation that so much has changed: An appointment on my calendar read “bikini” (shorthand for bikini wax), which she understood to be something different.
With dating now a daily topic in the office, our conversation shifted to what she and her friends considered as the going standard for “down-there” care. It was a hysterically confusing chat, as it took me a minute to realize she genuinely did not get what I meant by “options” (ie. strip, triangle, brazilian, lol).
“I’m like, trying to picture it?” She says, confounded. Then she Googles and responds, wide-eyed: “This can’t be real.” I only wish Hoda and Jenna had been in my office. You might think this is a taboo topic for morning television, but no… Hoda and Kathie Lee Gifford’s “waxing poetic” chat from 2013 is still seared in my memory.
A conversation I never thought I’d be having, but here we are! Until next time…
Bobbie’s Dating Diary: A message to anyone who wonders why I’m doing this
By: Bobbie Thomas
May 11, 2023
Lots to unpack …
It’s been a few weeks since my last post. I took a break from writing to just experience dating. I felt the need to “feel” before thinking too much about it.
First and foremost, I wanted to share this diary with the hope that it provides a sense of comfort and reassurance to those who may feel alone in their experiences and emotions. The power of community and connection can be transformative, offering a universal sense of understanding and healing. Reading messages from so many who have been inspired to download a dating app, say yes to someone new, and/or take steps to open the door to a new chapter has been uplifting. I’ve also read some of the comments questioning why I would share something private so publicly. While the nature of social media has opened my decision up for debate, I appreciate that most of the comments, both positive and negative, come from a place of concern. Some asked if I was being pressured, others worried that potential suitors would shy away, or how my transparency may affect my son, Miles, down the line.
If someone chooses to stay away from me because I express my emotions openly, then they are not the right match for me.
I replied when possible to comments I came across on social media, and I want to reassure others that after spending 17 years in Studio 1A, I am deeply grateful for the love and unwavering support from my TODAY family behind the scenes. If someone chooses to stay away from me because I express my emotions openly (with discretion), then they are not the right match for me. Even when Michael disagreed with me about announcing my pregnancy at 5 weeks, he was my biggest cheerleader and sat beside me on live national television to share the news. That is the bar he has set, and I firmly believe someone else can step up.
As for Miles, he is a consideration in every decision (big and small) I make, every day. I wholeheartedly believe that it is in his best interest that I am honest, authentic and vulnerable, and that I seek joy and look to the future with hope and excitement. I do not want him to ever feel ashamed about his feelings, good or bad, and I hope he feels confident in being himself and sharing who he is unapologetically. This is the only way to have meaningful relationships of any kind, and what else truly matters more in life than love and connection? There is nothing I feel more strongly about. With profound sincerity, I hope that by adding my voice and story to the fabric woven around widowhood, and simply being someone looking forward to loving again after 45, I can help break down stereotypes, dispel shame, and create a welcoming and inclusive environment that combats loneliness and fosters a sense of belonging.
Transitioning now to a recent realization, it’s been 2 years since Michael’s passing, yet my sense of time still feels distorted. Some days it feels like he was here only yesterday, while on others, it feels like our love belonged to another lifetime. Despite this, the thin membrane separating my conscious thoughts and focus remains fragile, and can be torn apart by a simple poke, unleashing the most excruciating and unbearable pain that leaves me short of breath and wondering if I’ll ever be OK again.
That being said, 2 years on, I am a completely different person. It felt like another loss to acknowledge that the version of “me” that stood by Michael’s bedside now seems foreign. Initially, the realization was scary. However, my body moved forward, and my heart and mind were dragged along somehow. What I was forced to accept, bear and carry with me has shaped how I think and feel today. I couldn’t have fathomed surviving 2 years, let alone embracing the emotional transformation that was to come.
I share this because dating can force you to confront yourself. Questions like “tell me about yourself,” “what do you enjoy,” and “what do you want” can be challenging, especially when you’ve spent some time feeling numb, only to discover that you feel vastly different now.
It’s been fun to message with some matches online and go out with friends for drinks or dinner, with some chance encounters leading to meetings with new people. However, I’ve found myself struggling to answer simple questions and feeling unsure about how to open up. It’s as if I don’t know myself anymore, which is disconcerting because I enjoy being social and open.
Meanwhile, I’ve been seeing the fellow widowed parent I mentioned previously, and we seem to have skipped past the usual introductory questions and clicked naturally. At first, I thought it was because we shared similar losses, but then I realized how much I’ve changed. My priorities have shifted and my walls are down now. I’m vulnerable in a way that I wasn’t — that I couldn’t have been — before. It’s scary to have feelings for someone new. Starting fresh is both exhilarating and terrifying, triggering all kinds of emotions and insecurities that make me question myself.
There have been some butterflies, both good and bad, and some late-night phone calls where only a best friend would indulge my overanalyzing of a text message. It’s exciting to feel these things again, but also daunting to experience the nerves that come with a new connection after so long. It’s funny how just when I thought I had wrapped my head around dating, my heart throws me for a loop with this next “in-between phase,” the delicate area between first dates and an official relationship.
It’s as if I’m a teenager at times, with my emotions bouncing between “yes, YOLO” and “whoa, wait, no,” questioning if feelings are mutual and worrying about getting hurt. How do you navigate the unspoken rules and maintain a certain level of distance while also trying to develop a deeper connection?
The widower and I just put a weekend overnight trip with our kids on the calendar. I’m really excited about the idea of getting some real time together, as squeezing in time during the week is a logistical blur for two solo parents without a baton, but gulp. Wish me luck.