East Meets West- Dating Climate Change; Be Better (Than a Damn Rom Com)
A few years ago, I went back to good ole Ktown to celebrate Christmas and in the proceeding days was gifted with a full-on meltdown at my Aunt MK’s annual Boxing Day Bash surrounded by my vivacious extended family. No, I wasn’t peeved like Kevin McCallister for someone eating my cheese pizza (and for the record, I quite like olives). Instead, the scene: my bro and his wife just had a kid, my cousin and his wife, expecting, another cousin, he proposed to his lady, another cousin, she accepted the proposal from her man. My older cousins, partnered for years and have their children. At the risk of East Meets West turning into Sex and the City (I’m NO Carrie Bradshaw) I was the only single person there. “No, not dating anyone.” “Yup, I am still single”, I assured my inquisitive family.
I have been single for a while. I use to have a really big problem with it- loneliness is becoming the epidemic of our generation, as we’re not taught to be with ourselves, to love/support /champion ourselves. I’ve been through it. A few long term relationships, dating, and then full on taking myself off the market after finding the guy I had been seeing in the shower with another woman the day we were going on a long weekend getaway. It was every bad movie cliché it’s almost comical. In hindsight; it really hurt and warranted a long hiatus to heal and check out my patterns and associations to/with men. Which is why the emotional Christmas Massacre (not because of my fam jam, they love and support me) needed to happen and be examined; I was a 30 something who had “failed” and all the prescribed familial norms had eluded me. Can anybody find meeeeee somebody to love?
I’ve gotten my Tinderlla on before, and I fucking hated it. All media is a construct and people are really good at crafting something in the most favourable way- THIS OFTEN MEANS LYING. Don’t piss in my ear and tell me it’s raining, if you’re lying about one thing, there’ll be more, own your insecurities and work on them, don’t hoodwink me. Online misses the mark, too, as it’s easy to assume we “know” someone until you meet in person. This can still turn into going out with a buddy who says “I’m going to need another drink for this to go on.”. Need? At this point, I asked for my bill and told him “I don’t think this is what either one of us is looking for, bye” and left. I’m not a chore or a burden that has to be endured only via booze. I say good day!
The other side of the coin; meeting someone at a party or bar, which I’ve done, hitting it off really well and thinking you’ve clicked and you text back and forth, make the plans and then poof; ghosting. How the fuck is this the societal norm? Someone call Captain Planet- because this climate is polluted! I’d rather be rejected than disrespected. Ovary/nut up, have the uncomfortable five-minute conversation and get on with it. Remember that whole, treat others how you wanted to be treated thing?
I’ve evolved into treating myself the way I want to be treated; kindness, love, consideration, respect. I’m no longer waiting for someone to love me the way I’ve always wanted to be, I became that person for myself. And when my “him” (hiiiiii Jon Hamm) comes rolling around, I’ll concurrently treat the both of us the same. Oh, and I buy myself flowers, cuz they rule.
I went on a blind date a few weeks ago, my first, and a lovely friend set me up with the dude. I got to meet someone and have conversations. I had doors held open for me and, unexpectedly, had a meal bought for me. There were no sparks, and it ended with that being known. No ambiguity. Amazing. It clarified who I was /who I am now, sharpened the edges of desires and deal breakers. Another truth was really brought forward for me; I like who I am and I’m no longer lonely (wow, growth). I’m not on anyone else’s trajectory for where “I should” be in life, and I will still have my moments of feeling alone. It’s all good. I’ve got my hustling and dreams to turn into realities, along the way, while doing me (no pun intended, unless…) that’s when that handsome son of bitch with a heart of gold, rad sense of humour, whose honest, possess a hatred for cilantro and has a bitchin beard will show up in my life. And we’ll sweep each other off our feet. And we’ll live Happily. In the meantime though, I’ll live, happily.