The other day my cousin was cutting my hair.
I'm not great with hair. Mine is curly and unruly; I didn't know what to do with it when I was younger, and it's only been in the last five years that I've found cuts and styles I really liked on me. Right now I keep it short. just below my chin, a little shorter in the back. So my cousin - she's never cut my hair before, since she's just become a hairstylist and lives very far away - asked me if I liked layers. I hate it when they ask questions like that. Because I don't know! Yes? Maybe? I've had my hair with layers; I've had it without. I usually just tell them to do whatever they think is best. "Do you ever wear it curly?" she asked. "I do. After my last haircut it looks weird sometimes, though." "Well, the layers will help with that. They'll make the curls lie a little better." Maybe it's because I know her, maybe it's because she's just better at her job than other people I've had, but my cousin finally helped me understand why layers are right for me. This was an important hairstyling experience. I'm happy with the haircut my cousin gave me, but more importantly I'll know how to ask for what I want in the future. It isn't just that I have a clearer picture of what I want. It's that I know my own hair better. This year in dating has been a little like that. No, I haven't "found" someone. But I know myself a lot better. I know how I'll react in particular situations. I know generally the kind of people I'd want to surround myself with, and who might be perfectly nice, but not for me. I approached this year as a dating experiment. In reflection, though, I think it turned out to be more of a year in self-improvement. What I learned wasn't how to catch a man, but who I am in relation to them. How I want to be perceived. How I want to relate to other people, especially straight men. Because, see, my life has been full of women. Despite having a couple of long-term romantic relationships with men in my twenties, the most important people in my life have almost always been women. Mom. Grandma. Sister. Aunt. Jo and Elise. The one male-bodied person (I think he'd appreciate that distinction) I truly love and trust is a gay man. Straight men...well, this is a bit of a generalization, but the straight men in my life tend to disappoint me. I think that matters. I think that impacts how I approach dating and relationships. Since I work in a social justice organization, I've done a lot to understand my racial, socioeconomic, and sexual identity. As a White, middle-class straight person I have privilege in all three of those intersections, and I have examined the shit out of my privilege. I'll keep doing that work, because I remain unfinished and I think it's important. But I haven't spend a lot of time on my identity as a woman. And that's important, too. So that's one result of this New Year's Resolution. Integrate identity work around gender. Check. But that does beg the question...what next? I've circled back around to January. Still single, but a little older and definitely wiser. But once again I find myself sitting at my mom's, contemplating my future. I still fully intend to go on dates. I'll keep OkCupid and probably Tinder (but not Match. Match is for FREAKS). But dating won't be the focus of the next year -- at least not in the same way. I want to make stuff. I want to tell stories, and get other people to tell stories. I used to do that, and at one point even intended to make that my career. Lately, I've been grateful that I didn't start there. I think I'll be a better storyteller given the experiences I've had over the last ten years. So, since it is New Year's Eve and I am a woman of action, here are my goals:
It's very possible I might expand some of my blog posts into stories. There are other stories I'm interested in as well -- I haven't quite settled on a theme yet. I want to try some things, see what I like. If you're interested, keep checking back here -- I'll use this blog to test drive material til March, and link to anything new. Last, I just want to say thanks. I think this is the first time I've successfully completed a New Year's Resolution, and I want to end the year with gratitude. Thanks to anyone who's been reading, especially anyone who might have found me after the Risk show. Unless the techies at Weebly are lying to me, I've had over a hundred unique users read my blog, and about twenty of those people seem to check in on the regular. That is very humbling, since I have mostly been assuming an audience of about four, including people I show the blog to on my phone at parties. Also, thanks to anyone I've asked to read this on my phone at a party. Thank you, Dallas, for suggesting I create a blog to keep track of all my dates. It's not just been fun -- it's inspired other fountains of creativity, and I am grateful for that and for you. And finally, thank you to the men I've gone on dates with. Thanks for sharing a drink, a meal, and a part of yourself. You made the successful completion of this resolution possible. I quite literally could not have done it without you.
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Since it's December 28 and I sincerely doubt I'll have another date lined up for the next three days, time for a summary! I like to get all the facts in front of me before I analyze.
14 first dates in one year (107% to goal)
A surprising 71% of first dates occurred in my town.
Also: I experienced ten unique first date locations, with a very popular chain restaurant dominating the frequency list at three different first dates. 93% came from the internet (43% from Match, 43% from OkCupid, 7% - or 1 person - from Tinder) Oldest: #14, fourteen years older than me Youngest: #3, two years younger than me The numbers inspire some interesting takeaways. I never would have guessed, for example, that I'd find seven men within thirty miles of my home. I'd just assumed they'd mostly be from the cities further away. I also wouldn't have thought so many of them would come to me, or that half would have converted into second dates. To be honest, I wasn't even really thinking about second dates when all of this started. But I'm thinking about second dates now. At the beginning of December I had one more date to go. I'd already started reflecting on my year. I was thinking about what I'd learned, and how I might approach dating in the future. I was also feeling a little bit cynical. A lot of things in my life are better than they were last year (more on that soon!). But I'd fatigued a bit on first dates and figured I'd just find somebody in town for thirteen and get it over with. Then I started exchanging messages with a new guy that I liked. Liked enough to follow on Instagram. Which is how he found this blog. Eek, right? But then this happened: Positively charming. We met on a Sunday. He lived pretty far away, but still came to my town. He was intellectual, enthusiastic, and game for the unusual. He wasn't interested me despite my 13 first dates quest; he wanted to meet me because of it. He felt inspired to get back out there himself, and wanted to talk to a so-called expert. He was pretty clear that he wasn't looking to jump into anything long-term, but he still said nice things to me. He was self-conscious, but sweet. Plus, I LIKED him, which was unexpected and pleasant. He was cute! I definitely wanted to make out with him, and he seemed to like me, too. I said I'd visit him before flying to see my family for the holidays, and a couple weeks later I did. We took a walk to look at Christmas lights, then went to dinner. He was smart. We were still talking quite a bit about dating and dating philosophies, comparing experiences. I was turning up the charm, hoping to engage in a little harmless flirtation. Quick sidebar -- THINGS I CONSIDER HARMLESS FLIRTATION
It seems that last one isn't so harmless to number thirteen. At one point I mentioned that his letters and mine were a "match." Same inside letters, opposite outside letters. I know I can be kind of a freak sometimes, but I was keeping the conversation pretty light. Teasing. He got weird on me, fast. I guess talking about "matches" felt like a big commitment for him? Because then he said this: "I mean, after tonight, I don't even know that we'll see each other again." Ouch. To be fair, he'd said he wasn't looking for anything long-term. It's not like he was deceiving me or anything. It's just that I'm generally pretty perceptive and I really thought he was picking up what I was putting down. I was willing to put forth effort to continue getting to know him and I thought he might be, too. I guess not. We passed the rest of the date in affable conversation, but I didn't want to make out with him anymore. And just in case the first time was too subtle, he made his feelings clear when I left. "Maybe I'll see you. You know, if I'm ever passing through, or if you're passing through..." Just ouch. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't spent part of my drive to the airport running through the reasons why: Maybe I came on too strong? Maybe the timing was wrong. Maybe I'm too fat, or not smart enough, or just too far away. Maybe he wouldn't even be able to articulate it if I'd asked him. Sometimes... And it doesn't matter why. This year I've built up a lot of confidence and learned to like myself in the context of dating. Here is what I believe about me: I am a rare and beautiful sapphire. I'm not going to try to sell myself to someone who's in the market for pearls, and I'm not going to let it get to me when I am occasionally rejected. At least, not for more time than it takes to get to the airport. I will say this -- it was a little dehumanizing. Because he was so interested in my blog and dating theories, he made me feel like an experiment. I see the irony there. Thirteen, if you're reading this (and I must assume you are), here's the last piece of dating advice I'll offer, especially if you pursue a goal similar to mine from this year: remember that the women you go out with are people. I say this to you, but I mostly say it to remind myself. Since getting dropped by the doctor in August I've stopped seeing the men I dated as real and complete people. Like eleven. No, I did not have a great time. But odds are, he's just a guy moving through the world as best he can, trying to find the right partner. I want to be the kind of person who can find something good in other people...even if I'm feeling exasperated or bored or annoyed. When I started this blog, I made one rule: don't write anything you wouldn't want the men you date to read. I'll be honest, I never thought that would literally happen. In some ways, the fact that it did helps me hold myself to that high standard -- not just because thirteen might read this, but because I finally feel re-inspired to try to be the very best version of myself. So I'm going to go back and read what I wrote. I'm going to wish thirteen well and hope that he finds whatever it is he's looking for. And then I'm going to do a little Tinder-ing before I turn off the light and sleep. |
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