I Hate Dating
That seems aggressive, but you know what, at this point, it’s probably the easiest way to surmise my feelings without becoming concerned about word count.
There has always been something about dating people that I just hate. Like- actually hate. And it’s not like I’ve been #blessed with overwhelming success thus far in my life. If anything, the bumps and bruises of my attempts started early and didn’t seem to let up.
Let’s take a peek at the comedy of errors that is known as my dating life.
Let’s start off with my youth- there was a rumor about me in grade school that I had French kissed a boy under the play-set in kindergarten (horrifying then, a little proud that it could be true now).
Cut to 3rd grade, I announced that Jay and I were dating during tech week of “The King and I”. It was pure bliss- he took a streamer from a prop and made me a bracelet. Unfortunately, when he had to go onstage for the ballet in Act 2, I ripped it off and broke up with him. He’s now a Drag Queen.
5th grade Brady got her first kiss (if we don’t count the rumored French Kiss) from Robert in his little sister’s room on a fur rug (not a joke).
In 8th grade, I started dating Richard Allen at the end of fifth period and by the end of sixth period, I had been handed a note telling me it was over.
We will not even grant high school the privilege of making this long-winded list because, in my opinion, it’s still too soon.
And I’m 99% sure I never had a boyfriend in college (if this is wrong, and it is you, I am sorry).
I mean, the boys loved me…
And then, I graduated college, left the small town scene, and came to New York City: the greatest city in the world! Here, I thought, here is where I fall in love. You would think that in this bustling metropolis, in pre-Covid times, it would have been easy to find someone to date. Just perch yourself at a bar anywhere in midtown Manhattan, and you’d think it would just take off from there. You would be wrong. 10 years ago I thought being 21 and living in the city was hot. And that I was hot. Spoiler alert: I was not hot. Nowhere close. And please, do not try to tell me otherwise.
And what does a self-identifying hot person do to find dates in New York City? They sign up for online dating. They get on OkCupid. And they do the earliest version of “sliding into DMs”. And, by doing so, I got a date. A grand total of one date. Here’s a few quick takeaways from that (spoiler alert) disaster:
I left detailed instructions with my roommate Sarah about who I was meeting, his number, where we were going, what time I was planning to be home, and if she didn’t hear from me by a certain time to call. Remember, this is the olden days.
When we finally met, to my surprise, he looked nothing like his pictures. He lied about his height. And I would come to learn he had no personality while being forced to dine with him.
We met in Chinatown for dinner, cause that’s cool. It was an hour long wait, in a basement, and I don’t think I was ever hustled out of someplace so fast in my life. Easy to say, it was forgettable.
When dinner was over, we then proceeded to go on a walk around Little Italy and Chinatown while I kept trying to say “Hey I should go”.
I finally got away, told Sarah I was on my way home, and attempted to shake off the experience. He then continued to text me nonstop for three days, until I finally had to shut it down.
I then promptly deleted my OkCupid profile.
I was burned, but not really. Just a bit crispy. It’s not like after that I gave it all up. The next 10 years continued on-I had some crushes (reciprocated and non), and some long-distance shenanigans (do not recommend). I’ve dated a co-worker. I have even lived with a partner (recommend, but like, be sure it’s right, cause it sucks when it falls apart and they tell you before bed one night that they don’t love you anymore- another FUN STORY!).
And that is why I hate dating. I would rather be two years into a relationship and be able to fart in front of someone and just skip the part where I am forced to sit across a table from a human I met off the internet and try to pretend I didn’t already stalk the shit out of them on LinkedIn. It’s the same routine over and over- sibling listing, talking about college and work, pretending to care about his hobbies. I swear to God, I’d rather type up an entire brief of my baggage and slide it across the table and then eat in silence. Let’s just get it out of the way.
From a sister who once looked me dead in the eyes and said “You’re never getting married”, to my OBGYN telling me at age 30 that we should have had the conversation about freezing my eggs three years earlier, I’m just barely coasting these days. But, to be honest, I’m actually really okay with it. Because you see, since I don’t have to spend any fucks (remember this?!) thinking/worrying/obsessing about dating, I can focus on myself. Which is why I think most days, I’m pretty happy.
I enjoy dating myself, and no, I did not come up with that expression. And while I know some people may think I’m well and truly insane for saying this- I love nothing more than going out to dinner alone. In fact, I did it last weekend. Dating yourself and self-care (I TOLD YOU I’D SNEAK IT IN HERE YOU JERKS) are two of my favorite things. We all love a “treat yourself moment”, so why not? Especially with how the last 11 months have been. Why not thank you for being you and putting up with the day-to-day grind? I’m not saying buy yourself a Dior fanny pack, but like, maybe some cake would be nice. But, if you can, I truly do recommend taking yourself on a date. Grab a book, pick a Covid-safe restaurant, and ask for a table for one. It is the most empowering rush, being able to ask for it, and then sit and enjoy yourself while not caring what anyone thinks about you sitting alone. Try it. You may be surprised what you learn about yourself that night.
So, if and when it’s safe, delete Tinder/Hinge/Christian Mingle, and take yourself on a date. Because, if all else fails, at least you’ll know the company will be good.
Editor’s Note: Enjoying these posts? Let me know below. xoxo BPL
