“So I checked out your blog,” the man says across the table as he dips a cucumber in hummus. “Do you go on dates just so you have material for it?” I let his words marinate in the air, tasting his fear and uncertainty.
“No, not at all.”
I can tell he doesn’t believe me. He’s worried I’m using him.
I’ve heard this before, from men and women alike.
Would you assume a real estate agent is going on a date just so he/she can sell you a home? Or a hairdresser just so he/she can cut your hair?
I want what every person wants: Love. Easy love, that’s inviting and uncomplicated. And to think otherwise is to not know me.
How does a writer navigate the world of dating and love without censoring oneself?
I don’t agree to a date with the intention of writing about it. In fact, I hope a guy doesn’t give me reason to. I agree to a date because I optimistically believe maybe this next guy may wow me–make a set plan and go somewhere that’s relaxing and fun, where we can laugh and throw jabs at one another, and then kiss passionately, sending jolts racing through my bones.
But that’s not always how it plays out. Often, (just as I assume women do to men too) guys ghost, show up looking different than advertised, are rude, mean, disrespectful, tell me lies. It’s just how it goes. And sometimes it’s upsetting, many times it’s funny. And so I write and talk about it because human behavior fascinates me and because I want others to know it’s not just happening to them.
Don’t assume I’m using you. I have plenty of other things to write about than an asshole who sits on my couch, massaging my shoulders, while simultaneously checking Bumble. Don’t give me a reason to write about you.
A woman commented on one of my Facebook posts: “It gives me anxiety to see someone posting the way you do. I also think it’s scaring off all potential suitors.”
If my form of expression and creativity scares you off, then you aren’t for me. And that’s okay.
We’re not for everyone.
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Losing The only thing people enjoy losing is weight.
I lost my keys.
I lost my computer.
I lost my phone.
I lost my car.
I lost my desire.