Dating. It’s the worst. You spend your life figuring out who you are, deciding a career, developing character and personality, putting together a style you feel is sexy with hopes of someone else also finding it sexy. The end goal is sharing passion and love with someone who feels as whole as you do, right? And I don’t think wishing for something more than being single and satisfied makes me any less of an independent woman. But considering I’m 0 for like 10, more times than not, dating ends in self-doubt, a plummeting self-esteem, and disappointment.
So what are my options? Living a life of celibacy or noncommittal relationships? Not really fulfilling for me, unfortunately. Tinder?! Go fuck yourself with that. Dating coworkers has always ended in complete disaster. Friends of friends normally means we all go out until one too many tequila shots has me looking at someone sideways like You’ve slept with all my friends, but I guess what’s one more? And then waking up with instant anxiety when I recall the night. Dating friends is the worst, killing two birds with one stone. Goodbye comfort of having a supportive, nondramatic friendship full of laughter and fun. Hello self-loathing from watching myself morph into the Jekyll to my Hyde as I let the complications of life slowly boil down what used to be a beautiful and effortless friendship. I swear sex ruins everything.
Sigh. Dating is the worst.
But what can you do? As much as I would love to swear off dating, it’s not going to happen. It falls into my lap, inconveniently and abruptly, one sucker punch after another. If I had more self-control and discipline, I’d be smarter than letting myself fall in love with people I know it won’t work out with.
So I guess that’s where I am, not falling in love. Sounds easy enough. Knowing myself it won’t be and it’ll take a lot of conscious blinders, stiff-arming the fuckboys, and keeping my pants on. Because once they come off, I blink and find myself two years down the road going through another breakup, puzzled by another failed attempt. And I’m just losing the emotional stability to keep it together. Each breakup makes me feel a little sharper than before and at the youthful age of 28 (though ripe as it may feel), it’s a little too early for that bitterness.