After an extremely dramatic break-up from which I took far too long to recover, I decided it was time for me to go on a date. It had been nearly three years since I’d been on one.  I was finally loving life and wanted to find someone to share daily musings with, to watch Lost with, to share adventures with.  Hell, I wanted someone to smooch.

I’d heard of many successful Internet love connections and I pondered signing up myself. Late one night I was chatting with two of my friends on the west coast about online dating and they enthusiastically encouraged me to sign up.

So I did.

I decided to go with OkCupid! (Mostly because it was free.) On the form, I wrote something about how I had a terrible break-up and was giving this a whirl.  I sent it over to Angie and Andrew in Seattle for approval.

They quickly responded, “No offense. But that is fucking terrible.” They explained that I shouldn’t be negative because (1) that’s not a good first impression, and (2) I’m not a negative person, so why would I want to characterize myself that way? Both completely valid points.

One’s online persona is not often an accurate portrayal of one’s 3-D personality, but I wanted to make sure that the profile I created was spot-on.  I worked on it the next day and then started an email to Angie and Andrew. As I typed, I added more friends in the “To” line to get their perspective.

What started as running my profile past seven friends quickly evolved into my very own online dating support group. I wasn’t going to hide the fact that I was Internet dating.  As it turned out, the more folks I told that I had signed up, the more peers told me they had also put their love lives into the hands of Al Gore’s almighty invention.

Now twelve strong, my support group has members around the country–some in relationships, some online dating themselves, and some single friends. I also have an almost-even gender split . None of this was planned out, but it organically became a great sampling of 20- and 30-somethings weighing in on virtual love.

Typically the group works like this:

1)   Suitor sends me a message.

2)   I copy and paste the message and attach their profile picture and self-summary.

3)   Group members comment in rapid succession (mostly during work hours) of their approval or disapproval.

Soon other members started using the group to vet their own potential dates. It suddenly became everyone’s support group, not just mine.

I know what you’re thinking.

On a phone call to my friend John in Florida, I told him about the group.   He immediately responded “That’s horrible. That’s every guy on that site’s worst nightmare.”

I asked the members of the group for their input on the pros and cons. When I asked Andrew what he liked about the group, he described how helpful it is to have camaraderie in what is an often demoralizing situation.  “Having the group here for the occasional pep-talk and sanity-check makes the whole business much easier,” he stated, adding that “it’s also very entertaining, and I like the gossipy aspect.”

It’s true, there is a bit of fun going on. “Everyone is hilarious. Any endeavor that leads to haiku battles is worth pursuing,” said Allyson. “There’s a fine line between good haiku, and really really lame haiku.”

One suitor who sent me a message had written his profile entirely in haikus. Emailing it to the group lead to a morning haiku battle. Foxy, who ultimately won, added “I’d rather read your emails than do my job.”

Not every guy in the local dive bar has a heart of gold and neither does every guy on an online dating site. There are some serious creeps.

As Foxy put it, “Some dudes are fucking lazy.”

Laura added, “I am very lucky to already have a boyfriend. Ninety five percent of men are completely un-dateable.”

In one occasion, there was a gentleman that I couldn’t quite place why I didn’t like him. The group seemed pretty evenly split, when Angie brought up to me the striking similarities of a boyfriend of the past and how terrible that relationship ended.

It’s beneficial to have a group of spotters helping one weed out these un-dateables, these creeps, before meeting them in real life where the real trouble can start.

When I asked William if he thinks the group is fair to potential suitors, he responded that it’s complicated but his gut feeling is that it is not.  He explained that by this point people should be aware that anything on the internet can, in an instant, be everywhere on the internet, so online daters should proceed with caution.  However, the group serves a valuable service for its members: “When it came to encouraging or discouraging further contact with potential suitors, it seemed that most of the time, most of the support group was in agreement.”

Laura thought it was totally fair, “I don’t think we’re treating the guys any differently than we would if you met them in person, except now we get to critique their spelling and grammar as well.”

It’s not a 24/7 snarkfest. The group has had productive conversations and debates about dating in general. Our discussions have covered such topics as about the three-day rule (a la Swingers), the ethics of giving/receiving an unsolicited phone number and in today’s modern world, if it really matters if a guy doesn’t offer to pay for the first date.

Allyson said “I’ve found it rare to have a mixed-gender group of people to discuss dating issues with.”  She added that she’s been grateful to be able to run situations past a group rather than having to wing it.

I could justify it in all sorts of ways, right? But what about the guys I’m going on dates with? What do they have to say about all of this? Well, I asked one. He didn’t want to use his real name in this essay, so let’s call him Tyler. On our second date I spilled the beans to Tyler (after I had a bourbon and ginger in me) that a dozen of my friends were in an online support group and knew all about him. He laughed and had me email them on the spot that he said hi.

We’ve since split, but I spoke to him for this article, and he said he would be thrilled to have such a source of support.

“Friends have always tried to help give advice about the qualities, or lack thereof, of potential partners.” Tyler expanded that while the group is very helpful to its members, it also has a somewhat disingenuous facet–the subjects of our critiques don’t know that their information is being shared and rated by a group of strangers.  ”If you find out that has happened to you, there is a moment of fear and insecurity.  You feel very exposed.”  However, he echoed the warning that information on the internet is never secure, a warning which all online daters should heed.   ”Maybe that’s a good reason to not put anything stupid or shallow in your profile.”

I haven’t found my Prince Charming on the Internet just yet. But at age twenty six, I’m finding myself in the “Why not?” part of my life. Tyler didn’t work out. But let’s give it another go!

Allyson sums it up pretty well, “Since there’s no way to know if Mr. Right is chilling on OKC in his spare time, I think it’s definitely worth looking around for him.”  It’s a matter of putting yourself out there, of being open to both victory and defeat.

In the spirit of openness and adventure, here’s my profile: http://www.okcupid.com/profile/kiraface.  But be forewarned–any message you send me is potentially subject to review by a group of our peers.