It’s been three months and Evelynn still asks to see him, the last guy I dated. Last week, we had to drive 74 miles to her cardiology appointment and over half way there she starts asking if we’re going to see him. I was dumbfounded. Speechless. It had been a couple weeks since she had last asked—I thought it was over.

People always want to know what it’s like dating as a single mom. You don’t realize how heartbreaking it can be until your kid gets attached to the guy. Doesn’t matter how easy or how quickly you get over him, it’s all about the kid.

She’s never even once asked to see her father. I think that’s what makes it so much more difficult. I’ve never seen this side of her.

I’m the type who when betrayed or lied to, I very easily move on—no need pining over a guy who never respected or wanted me, and I’m not one for crying. But something happened, repeatedly dealing with Evelynn asking about seeing him, that has cut me down. It’s like the dating side of me has shut down. I can’t figure out if I’m up for it or not. I can’t figure out how to tell if a guy is being honest—I used to have pretty good judgement of character. I can’t tell if a guy wants me for my body and for me to be a placeholder until they meet someone else who doesn’t have a kid and who can make all the time in the world for them—sorry I’ve got goals to meet and am ambitious—or if they genuinely want me, “baggage”—god I hate that term—and all.

I can’t tell if it’s worth it.

When Evelynn was a baby, it was much easier to date—she didn’t ask about the guy. Now, at three years old, she takes interest and remembers the guy. And let’s be honest, I’m the type who introduces the guy fairly early—judge all you want. Why? I’d rather know how they get along early and it’s good to see how the guy handles a kid being around. She’s my world. I don’t want to date a guy for two or four months only to introduce them and suddenly he realizes that “it’s too real.” She’s my reality—I love my reality.

I finally said yes to a date last week and I couldn’t open up. I was stiff. Boring. Disconnected. I suddenly didn’t know how to date. Crazy considering this is me we’re talking about and I have a tendency to date fast and break up even quicker. I never liked my time wasted with guys I couldn’t see another date or anything past tomorrow with. I half expected the guy to cancel—wouldn’t be the first time.

I’d take getting stood up any day over Evelynn getting attached to a guy who never even wants a future. Who already has an expiration date in mind—and doesn’t share it.

Why can’t dating be like a fine wine? Where it gets better with age?

Likely because I prefer whiskey—bartender, I’ll take a double.

I’d love to double down on the dating, too, while I’m at it and shed this thick armor but let’s be real, I like my high standards. And I hate the dating apps. When did it not become normal for a girl to meet a guy in a bar or the coffee shop? And I’d much rather play it by ear, continue with the house shopping and goal digging while I sip on this whiskey.