Want to know a secret? It's something I've been hesitant to share for a long time now. After all, it might break apart my glamorous, advice-giver façade. But I figure, at this point, I'm over it. The world can know.
I don't like dating. In fact, although I'm not big on using this word, I am probably close to hating it. And maybe that's good, because I'm miserable at it too.
My friends constantly bring me their love-life problems to solve. And for some strange reason, when it's not my dating situation, I can suddenly see so clearly and I know exactly the advice to give. But if I had to advise myself? Well... um... The word "hopeless" comes to mind. How to Give & Receive Dating/Relationship Advice to a Friend
Even back in high school I remember watching those girls who could easily mingle with guys and score dates—and they seemed to enjoy it all too. I was jealous. They made it seem so simple. It was like they had some extra chip programmed into their brains, and somehow I missed out on it. When I made my own feeble attempts at flirting even, my palms would get sweaty and I'd start to trip over my words until the guy eventually put me out of my misery and ended the conversation on his own. (Phew.)
At least I'm not as horrible as I used to be. But I'm still not great. And I still don't like it. The whole dating spectacle, that is. It's an ordeal.
First, there's the obstacle of knowing what I want, and refusing to settle for anything less, which I have written about before. No hook-ups. No what-ifs. No game playing for me. If I sense that something of that nature is going on, I just don't waste my time. I want a Christian guy who loves God and who has a specific set of values. If those stars don't align, likely no date will materialize in the first place. But if by some small miracle I get past the hurdle of landing a date, there's worse to come. 4 Signs That A First Date Is Going Really Well
There's the actual date.
I fret over what to wear, and how exactly to do my eye make-up. I start analyzing—what he's doing, whether that comment meant something, whether he's planning on asking me out again, how exactly he's perceiving me—but that never works. So, I try not analyzing—but surely I am missing something vitally important, surely if I shut off the analytical part of my brain it will shut down altogether. Then, there are the million uncomfortable ways in which the date can end; splitting the check or "the reach," an awkward hug, a kiss I don't want and have to deflect, a kiss I do want but doesn't happen...
To me, dating has become anything but fun, to the point where I barely want to date at all. And with high standards and an attitude that it's excruciating instead of exciting, I may be nearly impossible to date. Undateable, if you will. Once I had that realization, it worried me.