On Personal Growth
Sorry boys: I've deleted all of my dating apps already. That was a whirlwind few months that I'll never get back.
So here I am: newly single in body, but emotionally single for a long time. Newly single because I finally got dumped after a complete rollercoaster of a six year relationship. Emotionally single because I spent at least half of those six years feeling like I was alone, and the last entire year of that relationship sleeping in a separate bed. So finally, I set out on my journey to find a more meaningful connection with someone that I had never met.
My online dating journey took me (remotely) to Ottawa, as far as Singapore, and everywhere in between. This mostly resulted in me accumulating about ten dick pics a week, and all I have to say about that is:
Dick pics are still gross, and
DOES YOUR MOTHER KNOW THAT YOUR ANSWER TO GOOD MORNING IS A PICTURE OF YOUR PENIS?!
Nevertheless, I did manage to find a few meaningful connections of many different kinds. The issue with that is that aNxIeTy told me that I had to see how every single one of these connections played out, because if I didn't, what if I was missing out on the most epic love of all time?!
But that just turned out to be mostly overwhelming because I was talking to so many people at once, that eventually I couldn't tell the difference between the model in LA and the pizza guy in London.
I didn't know what the online dating world was going to be like but I was going on dates left, right and centre! I'm a pretty simple gal, too. I'm not talking fancy dinner dates. I'm talking pizza nights, going to the arcade to inevitably kick ass at all the retro games, axe throwing, and a lot of wine fuelled overnights.
I was so hyper focused on finding someone that was better than the last emotionally unavailable Momma's boy, I kept thinking that if I could just make SOMETHING work that was even just a little bit better than what I had before, then I could be okay with that.
Aim low so you're never disappointed, right?
I was still the girl that played soccer for 26 years, and loved to fish, bake cakes and go rollerblading, but none of those things were ever good enough for anyone to stay. So I became the girl that sat quietly through lunch with your parents while they shit talked me in a different language. I became the girl that pounded shots on a Sunday just to make it through a date that I knew wouldn't work out. I became the girl that pretended to like sashimi even though I wanted to barf every time I ate it. But it turns out, none of those things were ever good enough for me to stay either.
I spent six years in a relationship thinking "this is as good as it gets". We had the house, we had the cats, we had the dog, and that was apparently all that a good relationship needs in order to function. SPOILER ALERT: it's not. So when I hit the dating scene, and I hit it so hard, I was filled with curiosity of what the world had to offer, I was longing for love, and because of my competitive nature, I was going to win this damn game.
But I didn't win, because it's not a game.
I didn't find the love I was longing for in someone else and my curiosity only peaked in what I found out about myself during my search for an emotional connection that I felt was long since dead inside me:
No man can fulfill me in the way that dinner can.
I'm not actually dead inside, only dead inside towards certain people.
I don't need to seek friendship.
I need to feel supported emotionally.
Not even the most beautiful man can make me eat oysters.
I'm too old to spend more than one night on an air mattress.
I am not interested in the societal version of "love bombing".
I don't understand the concept of romance.
I still definitely hate the idea of Valentine's Day. (Even though I immediately agreed to be someones Valentine).
Age gaps don't matter, but emotional maturity does.
It's okay to take risks, but choosing which risks not to take is also okay.
Sometimes I just have to take the L.
Online dating is EXHAUSTING.
Sometimes (a lot) of hearts get broken.
It's very much okay to only want the absolute best for myself.
Being newly single at 31, I had this mission to rebrand myself as a new and better version of what I used to be; a new version of me that could be loved despite all of my flaws that my dates so easily pointed out. In the end, I was so focused on being this perfect, ideal person that fit the narrative of other peoples lives, that I didn't even stop to appreciate the the flowers that started to grow from the dirt that I dug as I clawed my way back up from my own personal Hell.
This version of me is worth it, but I've come to realize that the last version of me was worth it too. And the next time shit inevitably hits the fan? That version of me will be worth it too.
Parts of the old me are dead and gone, but every day I'm out here finding myself again in the people that I meet, the places that I visit, the music that I listen to and the babies that cry when I hold them.