Recently, it feels as though the universe is conspiring to push me back into the dating scene after my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad divorce. Because everywhere I look there’s another article or blog post or news story about jumping back into dating.
This is bad for one very good reason: Me. I am way too analytical and obsessive compulsive to shrug these articles off, ignore them and continue on my way. You see, when I come across these articles, any and all of the following thoughts will pop into my head.
- Should I be dating again?
- Why am I not dating again?
- If all of these other people are dating again, clearly I should be dating again and I’m not. Does this mean there is something wrong with me?
- Am I undateable? If not, then why have I not been asked out?
- If there is something wrong with me, what is it? Am I unattractive? Do I have a butter face? Do I have a Kim Kardashian ass? Am I aloof? Am I unapproachable? Was my bra strap showing? Was my fly down? Did I have leftover spinach stuck in my teeth? Do I spit when I talk? Was my makeup smeared? Do I not smile enough? Do I not flirt enough? Have I even MET any men in the last 6 months???
- Since I have NOT met any men in the last 6 months, where should I be meeting them? The bar? Church? Work? Hanging out on the street corner?
- Do I even STAND a chance of finding love again???
And then, somewhere along this train of thought I begin to ugly-cry, like this:
Some time later I realize how ridiculous I’m being, so I go back to being awesome.
The thing with me is, I’ve never been much of a dater in the first place. (That fact alone is enough to throw me into a tailspin of neurotic self-analyzing as I try to figure out why I’m not much of a dater… because if everyone else is, shouldn’t I be?) My first really serious, long-term relationship was with the guy I married. I’m not one to frivolously date someone just for shits and giggles. (Sorry. I had to. I have no idea why that phrase is so stinkin’ funny to me, but every time I use it, I chortle heartily.)
Oh good grief, Annie. FOCUS. This gif thing is really getting out of hand…
Anyway… where was I? Oh, yes. Dating.
So, even in high school and college I didn’t date much. Sure, there were dates here and there, but I wasn’t a serial dater. My thought was, if I was interested in you, I’d go on a date and if that date went well, there would be more dates to follow. However, if we didn’t click right off the bat, and you weren’t the type of guy I could see any kind of future with, there would be no date. I still see it that way. I don’t really waste my time “dating” if I don’t see it going anywhere. The idea of “Kissing a lot of toads before you find your prince” never made much sense to me. Why kiss a toad in the first place? They’re toads. Why not wait until you find someone with, at the very least, princely qualities or aspirations? Why waste your time on toads when there are at least a few princes out there?
I realize this philosophy flies in the face of everything we’re supposed to think about dating. Dating is about having fun, and getting to know a person, and seeing if there’s potential and blar, blar, blar. Not so much for me. My idea of fun is going on a date with someone I already click with and see potential in. I don’t date unless there’s clicking and potential. Sorry. But, apparently, that’s not how you’re supposed to do the whole “dating” thing. Clearly, I’m doing it wrong.
I’ve always been a girl of substance and high expectations. I’ve tried to be “fun” and nonchalant and cool. It just doesn’t work for me. It’s exhausting. I’m way too practical and level-headed. “Dating for fun” just seems like a waste of time. You’ve got to be a pretty special guy in order to even wrangle a date with me. That’s just how it works.
Okay, so sure… I’m looking at this dating thing all wrong. But it’s the right way for me. SO, until I see someone that piques my interest and seems worth my time… I guess I’ll just wait. And right now? That sounds just about perfect.