I'm home sick today, which means I might actually slow down enough to write an entire blog post (gasp!).
Last weekend I had a bit of a breakdown over the idea of being single. Part of it was the fact that I stayed home all weekend, and the hardest day was Sunday when Steve had the kids all day. I really shouldn't let myself sit around and think.
Here's the thing, though. The more I think about the prospect of dating again, the more I panic. It's absolutely terrifying to be "out there" again. Not that I ever was... I have to admit, I never really did spend time being single and dating. The formal idea of dating is entirely foreign to me. You know what I mean, the whole dinner-and-a-movie, when to call and when not to call, what to divulge and what to keep hidden, playing hard to get... I've never played the game. Each time I broke up with a boyfriend, I got a new one, then I married Steve at age 20. What on earth do I know about being single?
(Disclaimer: I know I'm not legally divorced yet. This is not me saying I AM dating, only that I've been forced to consider it, and my thoughts that followed.)
This is obvious, but there are extra complications in my case.
Complication #1: I'm almost 30. In Utah (where I live) 30 is practically old age.
Complication #2: (Obviously) I have three kids. The VERY brief dating around I did when Joshua was a baby proved that even just one kid complicates the process. For instance, if a guy is interested in you and seems completely amazing but isn't comfortable with your kid, obviously you have to let him go. On the other hand, if a guy is TOO interested in your little boys, there's a different kind of problem. How do you know if you've got the just-right balance between hands-off, and loving toward your children?
Complication #3 (which is what this blog post is actually about): I'm not a game-player. Remember how subtlety isn't my specialty? I wasn't exaggerating. I say what's on my mind. If I'm into you, I'll tell you. If I'm not, I'll tell you. I'm not interested in playing hard-to-get or changing myself in order to impress someone. I'm just me, through and through. I'm not out to hurt anyone's feelings or anything, but I'm not gonna be all giggly and secretive either. The dating world claims to want openness and honesty, but in reality they don't like it one bit. If you like someone and you tell them, what's the first thing they do? Run.
Not last weekend but the weekend before that my friend Lindsay took me out to a bar/club. It was really fun, I had a great time, but it was similar to my last club experience (you remember... the old lady in the club), in that I don't relate to the way the whole thing works. Girls wearing as little as possible, begging men to objectify them... men standing around waiting for the opportunity to get a girl drunk enough to go home with him. It's just all so strange to me. Sitting on the sidelines, you could actually watch a man's standards go down over the course of the night. I had a good time meeting a few new people and racing goldfish. (yeah, I know, but that's not a euphemism. I actually raced a gold fish against another gold fish and lost miserably. Hilarity ensued.) At the end of the day, though, I am completely lost in Mannequin World. Being on display just simply isn't my thing. I'd rather stay home and watch a movie, ya know what I mean?
Story for you. At one point I found myself sitting alone at said bar. My friends were off getting drinks or something, and I was suddenly surrounded by empty chairs. A guy walks up, sits in the chair closest to me (which was still a good two feet away from mine). After a few minutes of silence he says, "So are you just here with your friends?" I say, "Yeah." Silence. A few minutes later he asks me another question, then silence. Repeat process five or six times. At one point he asks me if I'm from around here and we realize we went to the same high school. "What year?" he asks excitedly. I go the safe route and ask him how old he is before I answer. "Twenty-two," he says. I laugh and tell him I graduated in 2003, to which he says, "You're shittin' me?" "No, I am not shitting you, I really did," I say. "I'm twenty-seven." SILENCE. He says NOTHING ELSE until my friends return and he quietly slinks away.
How does a person like me, who just wants to cut the crap and say what's real, ever do what it takes to move on? It's not all about dating, it's not even necessary for me to start dating ANY time soon... but I'm not interested in being single for the rest of my life. I'm a relationship kind of girl. Someday I will want to fall in love again and start over... but the process is downright terrifying.
Last weekend I had a bit of a breakdown over the idea of being single. Part of it was the fact that I stayed home all weekend, and the hardest day was Sunday when Steve had the kids all day. I really shouldn't let myself sit around and think.
Here's the thing, though. The more I think about the prospect of dating again, the more I panic. It's absolutely terrifying to be "out there" again. Not that I ever was... I have to admit, I never really did spend time being single and dating. The formal idea of dating is entirely foreign to me. You know what I mean, the whole dinner-and-a-movie, when to call and when not to call, what to divulge and what to keep hidden, playing hard to get... I've never played the game. Each time I broke up with a boyfriend, I got a new one, then I married Steve at age 20. What on earth do I know about being single?
(Disclaimer: I know I'm not legally divorced yet. This is not me saying I AM dating, only that I've been forced to consider it, and my thoughts that followed.)
This is obvious, but there are extra complications in my case.
Complication #1: I'm almost 30. In Utah (where I live) 30 is practically old age.
Complication #2: (Obviously) I have three kids. The VERY brief dating around I did when Joshua was a baby proved that even just one kid complicates the process. For instance, if a guy is interested in you and seems completely amazing but isn't comfortable with your kid, obviously you have to let him go. On the other hand, if a guy is TOO interested in your little boys, there's a different kind of problem. How do you know if you've got the just-right balance between hands-off, and loving toward your children?
Complication #3 (which is what this blog post is actually about): I'm not a game-player. Remember how subtlety isn't my specialty? I wasn't exaggerating. I say what's on my mind. If I'm into you, I'll tell you. If I'm not, I'll tell you. I'm not interested in playing hard-to-get or changing myself in order to impress someone. I'm just me, through and through. I'm not out to hurt anyone's feelings or anything, but I'm not gonna be all giggly and secretive either. The dating world claims to want openness and honesty, but in reality they don't like it one bit. If you like someone and you tell them, what's the first thing they do? Run.
 |
| No, but seriously. |
Not last weekend but the weekend before that my friend Lindsay took me out to a bar/club. It was really fun, I had a great time, but it was similar to my last club experience (you remember... the old lady in the club), in that I don't relate to the way the whole thing works. Girls wearing as little as possible, begging men to objectify them... men standing around waiting for the opportunity to get a girl drunk enough to go home with him. It's just all so strange to me. Sitting on the sidelines, you could actually watch a man's standards go down over the course of the night. I had a good time meeting a few new people and racing goldfish. (yeah, I know, but that's not a euphemism. I actually raced a gold fish against another gold fish and lost miserably. Hilarity ensued.) At the end of the day, though, I am completely lost in Mannequin World. Being on display just simply isn't my thing. I'd rather stay home and watch a movie, ya know what I mean?
Story for you. At one point I found myself sitting alone at said bar. My friends were off getting drinks or something, and I was suddenly surrounded by empty chairs. A guy walks up, sits in the chair closest to me (which was still a good two feet away from mine). After a few minutes of silence he says, "So are you just here with your friends?" I say, "Yeah." Silence. A few minutes later he asks me another question, then silence. Repeat process five or six times. At one point he asks me if I'm from around here and we realize we went to the same high school. "What year?" he asks excitedly. I go the safe route and ask him how old he is before I answer. "Twenty-two," he says. I laugh and tell him I graduated in 2003, to which he says, "You're shittin' me?" "No, I am not shitting you, I really did," I say. "I'm twenty-seven." SILENCE. He says NOTHING ELSE until my friends return and he quietly slinks away.
How does a person like me, who just wants to cut the crap and say what's real, ever do what it takes to move on? It's not all about dating, it's not even necessary for me to start dating ANY time soon... but I'm not interested in being single for the rest of my life. I'm a relationship kind of girl. Someday I will want to fall in love again and start over... but the process is downright terrifying.
