Here I am, once again laying in bed with a nice hot cup of tea, setting out to write down all the thoughts in my mind. This one however, is more difficult to write. I don’t know what words to use to express how I’m feeling right now. Let me preface this post by saying that I am a romantic person, a hopeless one at that. I love the whole concept of romance and love, and hope with every inch of me that I’ll be able to find that love and romance that so many others have managed to find. I want to find someone to grow with, to learn with, and to explore with. I do not however, need to find someone to complete me. I am complete all on my own. I don’t need anyone to be happy in life. I can be happy all on my own. I want to find someone that compliments who I am in that perfect way, that way that makes us each even better people together than we would be separately. I want someone that is kind, and adventurous. I want someone that isn’t afraid to dream. I want someone that isn’t afraid of being themselves. I know that I am not a perfect person. I have flaws like everyone else. I have a little too much fat hanging around on my body, I tend to over-think things in the simplest of situations, I can be passionate and overly emotional at times, and I have forever lived with my head in the clouds. But I have always, and will always be kind to anyone and everyone I meet, live my life with integrity, and take every opportunity for adventure that comes my way, and I hope that someday I will find a man that accepts me for who and what I am, and gives me the chance to do the same. With all these things running through my mind, I also find it important to say that I will never settle. Far too often these days, I hear family members and various other people commenting on my love life. Just last week I heard my mother tell someone that I’ve “simply given up on men and love”. But that’s just not the case. I have given up on something, but it isn’t love, and it isn’t men; I’ve given up on living my life to please other people, and I officially gave up on it last night at 11:57 pm.
Last night, I went on a date. A date that I only agreed to go on to please my family and friends. To show them that I haven’t given up and that I still want to find love. I do this every so often, when people seem to be getting antsy about me sitting in my room too often, or laying at the park with my nose in a book too frequently, and this time was no different. A friend of mine made a comment about my dating life in front of my mother, and it started this whole conversation between them about me, while I was sitting right in front of them. And by the end of it, they had convinced me to say that I would love to go out with my friend’s boyfriend’s brother. A blind date. A horrible blind date at that.
Yesterday was the day, and I did my best to stay positive about it, I even managed to get a bit excited about the prospect of meeting someone new and maybe hitting it off. It’s been nearly two years since I ended my last real relationship, and I guess I assumed that maybe it was time to take dating seriously again. That’s not to say that I haven’t gone on dates since I ended my relationship, I’ve gone on plenty, the issue here, is that they’ve almost all gone the same way this one did; horribly.
I got to the restaurant, after having made the whole effort that a girl is expected to on a date; hair, makeup, outfit, the whole thing. He arrived a bit later, and greeted me nicely, gave me a little compliment, all good things so far. It was only when we sat down at the table and started talking that I started to become increasingly upset and annoyed with the whole situation. The waiter arrived and my date didn’t bother to look at him, greet him, or do anything that common courtesy and manners would normally see as standard procedure for interacting with another human being. He was just quite cold about the whole situation. But I shrugged it off and tried to keep things going. I told him about school, and all the things I’ve been up to recently, and various other things that you talk about when trying to get to know another person, but he seemed to only want to talk about himself, mainly the things that he has or the things that he’s accomplished, nothing about who he was or the person that he hopes to be. Almost as if I should be impressed and appreciative that I was able to be sitting at the same table as him. I tried to ignore it and just kept going with the date. But then the worst part of the evening came. The waiter brought the food to the table, and everything went downhill. My date was apparently displeased with the service, or the food, or something, I’m still not sure what set it all into motion, but he started being incredibly rude to the waiter, saying that he didn’t know how to do his job and calling him various names that I can’t quite remember at the moment, then called the manager over and was rude to him as well. I was so embarrassed by the whole situation that I couldn’t manage to stay any longer. I complained of a stomach ache, ended the date early, and went home to get into my pajamas, eat some ice cream, and heal from the trauma that is “dating”.
My question for you is why do some men act like this? The majority of the dates I’ve been on lately have gone similarly to this. Is it me? Do I attract men with huge egos and issues with being nice? Is it just the fact that I live in a city in the middle of Midwestern America? Am I overreacting? The whole idea of dating is hard for me. I don’t like the idea of getting dressed up and trying to sell myself to another person, trying to show them all the good bits about me and trying to hide the insecurities that I have about my body and my looks. Its all just filled with so much pressure. So is that why these men that I’ve gone out with have acted like that? Because of pressure? Who knows. All I know is that after eating half a pint of ice cream and binge watching episodes of Friends, at 11:57 pm Saturday on the 23rd of May, I officially gave up on pleasing other people. The next date I go on, will be with someone that I truly want to go out with, someone that is interested in me for me, and someone that I have things in common with. I don’t care if it takes me months or years to find someone that I really want to go out with, or if I have to go to another country to find that person; I refuse to let myself fall into the trap of living my life to make everyone else happy or to fit in to the mold of what I am supposed to be and what I am supposed to be doing with my life.
Maybe the person I am meant to be with is sitting somewhere in Europe or Australia or Canada, dreaming of finding a girl just like me. Maybe he’ll be the sort of man that is kind to the people around him. Maybe he’ll be a dreamer. Maybe he’ll want to explore the world with me. Maybe he will be perfectly imperfect, just right for me. Maybe he’ll be my happily ever after, wrapped in a bundle of silly conversations, morning snuggles, netflix binges, love that isn’t based on appearances, arguments that only last a moment, and a life time of adventures.
I hope you’re doing well, where ever you are in the world, and I wish you all the best.