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I kept reposting the images anyway, and people kept reporting me. Eventually, I got tired of this merry-go-round and added a disclaimer to my profile: That seemed to help, although several people told me that the disclaimer made the whole thing “less funny.”But even with all the haters, Emily was not hurting for suitors.
He thanked me, but then I never heard from him again.
Then, right before I deactivated my account, a guy I knew from my real Ok Cupid profile “liked” my Emily page. He wrote back, “You are so messed up.”I rest my case.
” and “I don’t get it.” One 22-year-old guy questioned me about my profile pictures, two 19th-century photographs of Dickinson: But, for me, the most intriguing emails came from men who treated me like I was just an ordinary single lady, lookin’ for love. Every woman who has participated in online dating knows them.
A man sends you an email that reads, “Hi, I’m John” or “Hi, I’d like to get to know you.” The messages aren’t offensive. A “Hi” message is equivalent to saying, “Hey, I didn’t read your profile and I don’t care about your brain or your personality, but we should go out sometime.”Emily got those emails as well, which I found really interesting.
There were no boob-squeezing selfies or come-hither stares. So why was Emily Dickinson succeeding at online dating to a much higher degree than I ever had?
It was obvious that she didn’t fit in with the cool kids. At first, I found it curious, but after a while, I realized that Emily’s experience was merely an extension of the Ok Cupid experience in general. When we create a profile, we’re projecting a certain type of image. Well, she was famous, for one thing, and dead for another. Men do tend to fetishize famous dead women, especially if the woman in question has a head full of neuroses. If most modern men met these women in real life, they would call them crazy, but somehow, in the safety of death, they become worthy.
I was lost in the wormhole of online dating, and if I didn’t end the experiment, I would never leave the house again.
(Which would make my Emily Dickinson impression all the more authentic.)Of course, with all that interest, I might have actually met someone, if I had stuck with it. “Bespectacled writer disguises herself as Emily Dickinson and ends up falling in love with very own Thomas Wentworth Higginson!
Instead, I stand at the window and lower it down to them in a basket. Well, technically, Jane Austen was the zombie killer, not Dickinson, but close enough.
There were also emails from men who were utterly confused, who wrote things like, “Why?
She was a virgin, unmarried, and a recluse, but, man, was she talented.