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Dating
Recapping the details of our three-year relationship always puts me in a trance of utter embarrassment. Even though it was such a toxic practice, I could not pull myself away from reliving the memories and beating myself up. I’d often scold myself and say “But you knew from the first date that the man was not for you, so why did you expect it to turn out differently?” Three months into this our looks-good-on-paper relationship, the man invited me to spend the holiday with his family. When I told Timi, my romantic coach, she exclaimed “you see, this is a sign that he is thinking about you in terms of future plans.” I smiled and nodded shyly, giving her the impression that this was surely the case. What I did not reveal to her was that he unwillingly offered the invitation because I lamented that I had nowhere to spend …
Three years ago, I had completed my graduate education at a prestigious school. That accomplishment further solidified my “I don’t want a man, I only need a career”motto. I briefly dated two men – one while in undergrad and another in grad school – and I quickly concluded that dating was a waste of my time and maybe marriage was more like a fantasy than a possibility. Either I was going to get the man that shined when his attributes were jotted down on paper or I’d get no one at all. No one warned me that the pursuit of the one on paper would leave be emptied, disappointed, and heartbroken. If I ever hear the phrase “he looks good on paper”, I might take out the speaker. Anyway, I sha ended up meeting the-one-who-looks-good-on-paper through my friend, Timi. I wouldn’t ordinarily take advice or recommendation from Timi. You see… …
I truly wonder why I still bother to participate in the ultimate tournament of dating. Unlike other aspects of my life, I haven’t been able to crack the code that would yield a positive outcome. I have been doing this for almost 10 years and this is one area in life where experience doesn’t seem to matter. Folks claim that experience is supposed to give you an edge, a repository of wisdom, a bank of knowledge – all supposed to give you a stronger armor to shield you against the parasites ready to suck on your happiness, confidence, and contentment over cheap drinks. I have yet to reap the fruits of countlessly dating. But here I am purchasing a new dress for another first date, debating whether to go with a smokey eye with red lipstick or soft glam, and visualizing the hair style that will impress this candidate. One …
These days I wonder when I ever put out into the universe that I was interested in becoming some sort of commentator, talk show host, podcaster, or any other profession that requires constant conversations to no end. Did I accidentally pray to become someone’s permanent unauthorized therapist? Did I imply to God that I would like to be engaged in a perpetual loop of useless good morning texts and how was your day messages? I took stock of all the male creatures I have engaged with this year and suddenly found myself assessing how I ended up in the realm of endless text messages. When I embarked on this journey called dating, I certainly never anticipated that these creatures would enjoy so much useless conversation. I thought they were like me – that they would be interested in evolving from talking to actually establishing an actual relationship – whether casual …