How one simple policy protected my heart—and my safety

a personal Monday Money Missive

My dear Kindred Spirit,

In last week’s missive, when I wrote to you about the importance of firm, unique business policies, I promised you a painful story about a personal policy that saved me from heartache. Here you go…

As you may know, my 29 year marriage ended in the spring of last year, and as October turned into November, I decided to start dating. I was living in Cincinnati at the time, and didn’t know many people. Thus, I turned to Bumble to make connections.

Generally, if I matched with a guy, I’d chat with him briefly on the app, and if it seemed like he was a decent, reasonably intelligent and interesting person, I would suggest we meet in person for tea/coffee.

With one guy, things went differently. Sam and I had plans to go out one evening, but I canceled when I received bad news about my dad’s health about an hour before we were scheduled to meet. My explanation that I was a bit of an emotional wreck was met with kindness and understanding. The next day I drove to Western NY to be with my parents, so our date was postponed for a few weeks. In the meantime, we kept chatting on the app. He was smart, very funny, and thoughtful. He let me know several times that he was looking forward to seeing me, but was never pushy, and he frequently inquired about my dad’s health and how I was holding up.

Finally, in the last week of 2024, I was back in Cincinnati and we decided to meet for dinner on Friday night.

Normally, dinner for a first date is a bad idea. Who wants to linger in a restaurant if the guy turns out to be a dud? But Sam and I had been chatting for so long I was reasonably sure that we’d get along.

When I arrived at the restaurant, he was already there and greeted me with a big, warm hug. It was a pleasant surprise that he looked younger and more handsome than in his dating app photos. He smiled at me, and reached for my hand as the host led us to our table.

We talked and laughed for two hours over tacos and drinks (red wine for him; a margarita for me). He told me funny stories about his childhood. He listened intently to mine, and asked me great questions.

Sam told me about a time a couple of years ago when he was ambling past an abandoned and beat up minivan and heard faint mewing, which led him to discover a tiny kitten up in the wheel well. As he was walking away with the little bundle, and thinking about what to do with her, she became agitated and mewed louder, and it occurred to him that there might be more kittens. When he returned to the car, he heard a tiny squeak. He couldn’t see anything, but was sure there was at least one more. He called AAA, and convinced the tow truck driver to jack up the car- sure enough, there was an even smaller kitten in the undercarriage. This was how he, a man who was allergic to cats, became the proud and loving owner of two sweet kittens whom he named Chrysler and Pacifica, after the car from which they had been rescued.

After he paid the bill, we continued to linger at the table.

He said, “They’re going to kick us out of here.”

I laughed and said, “They’re going to have to.”

We talked for another hour, and still didn’t run out of things to say.

He told me that his dating experience had been frustrating; he had had lots of first dates, but not many second dates. Then he asked me about mine. I felt my cheeks get warm as I admitted that all of the guys I’d had first dates with had asked me for a second date, but I had only said yes to two.

Seeing the look of doubt in his beautiful green eyes, I said, “If you were to ask me for a second date, that number would go up to three.”

He sighed and smiled and said, “Yes, please! I would love to have a second date with you!” We agreed to go out again the following Friday.

As we rose to put our coats on, he asked me if he could walk me to my car. I was quite sure that was code for “can I kiss you good night?” and I was right. It was a sweet kiss, with another warm hug (a bit longer this time), before we said goodnight.

When I got home, Sam messaged me on the app to say what a good time he’d had. I asked him to send me pictures Chrysler and Pacifica. They didn’t come through on the app, so we exchanged phone numbers, and he texted them to me. The cutest photo was of the pair of them asleep on his chest.

After we said goodnight for a second time, I thought about running a background check. It’s my policy to run a check before I either go on a second date with a guy, OR get in his car (whichever comes first). I almost didn’t do it. He was clearly a really good guy, and it was surely going to be a waste of time.

But then I reminded myself that I have this policy for a reason, and I’d never made an exception before, even with the guys whose checks I was sure would come back clean.

Smiling as I thought about our date, I called up the site, and typed in his phone number.

It takes a minute or two for the report to generate. Once it did, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

No, no, no, NO! It couldn’t be him!

After a few minutes I verified that it was him.

And he was, indeed, a sex offender.

He’d tried to solicit over 200 children.

He’d been caught by an undercover cop posing as a 14 year old girl whom he traveled to meet.

He’d pled guilty and had been sent to prison.

I was shaken and shocked and couldn’t believe that there hadn’t been a single red flag.

Not only did I work as a certified sex abuse assessment and treatment specialist for the state of Rhode Island, I had treated sex offenders (work I absolutely hated) in one of my grad school internships. I’m not at all naive when it comes to this stuff, which is one of the reasons I run background checks to begin with.

What if I hadn’t run the check? I could have gone on 5 or 6 or 7 dates with him, getting more involved, more committed. We might have gone on for a couple of years before I found out.

I felt a profound sense of loss after a couple of months of chatting and one long date. I couldn’t imagine how terrible such a revelation would have been after more time together.

I was stunned. And wasn’t at all sure how to tell him that I wouldn’t be going out with him the following Friday, or ever again.

After lots of conversation with friends (most of whom advised me to simply say that I had changed my mind), and a search of my own conscience, I decided to tell him the truth.

Then I blocked him on Bumble, and on my phone.

I would end this by sharing the moral of the story, but it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?

Safe and not sorry,

Laura

P.S. Here’s some good news: Two months ago today (as this lands in your inbox), I went on a fun and romantic second date with a lovely man with a clean background check. We’ve been having a delightful time together ever since💜.

P.P.S. Know a woman who is dating? Please feel free to share this missive with her. I wish all women knew how important background checks are!

P.P.P.S. Want to explore the possibility of working with me? Schedule a complimentary exploratory session here.