This Dating Thing

I've never been much of a "dater". Ok, scratch that, I've never been a "dater", period. What is dating anyway? (Insert that confused emoji here).

I feel as if there's a hidden art surrounding the matter because the amount of times I surf the internet and land of a page of "should" and "shouldn'ts, "what to do" and "what not to do" while dating is insurmountable to even name a few off the top of my head. The funny thing is I read them anyway out of curiosity to understand what so many people lose sleep over. Seriously, who cares if you ordered steak on your first date? It's almost as if I'm behind and trying to understand the most elemental part of human socialization. But since it's a natural part of the human condition to compare oneself to others, I don't even question my incline to reevaluate how I live my life on the matter. After all, I think I've landed on a few interesting realizations.

I used to think I didn't date because I was too introverted for that kind of thing. You see, dating requires having to set apart an extra pint of energy to put up with all the beginning small talk and neuron-crushing effort of getting to know someone. Who are we kidding? It's trying, however excruciatingly, to be well-liked and to connect with the person sitting across from you. While on the other hand I'm holding the preference of my relationships to blossom out of the ordinary nuances of everyday life. Naturally.

Then, I used to think I didn't date because I was too afraid of rejection. I was too afraid of sitting across the table with someone and looking like a fool for not having the same ideals and the same taste in beer. I was afraid of, well...maybe realizing I had a lettuce stuck on my teeth the whole time. I was afraid of realizing, mid-date, that this little outing was going nowhere. The future of said dates is 50% my choice, after all, but I feel deeply for whoever lies next to me, whether I like them or not. 

I understand getting to know someone like that requires guts, and that putting yourself out there is not always unwarranted. Sometimes the riskier decision bear the most fruit. Sometimes risking a little dignity bears a little more confidence. 

A friend of mine once said, " Dating makes you feel better about yourself. You feel more interesting, more confident, more valuable. It forces you to see yourself under new light, to talk yourself up and, in turn, you realize just how awesome you truly are".

And man, oh man. I couldn't have agreed with her more that time. I nodded my head feverishly like a girl who had just found the key to being successful in life. Or a girl who had just found hidden donuts in the fridge.

Then I went home a little embarrassed that, after the dust had settled, I truly held no interest in picking up my confidence at the hands of a stranger sitting across the table from me at Stomping Grounds. I figured those whom I love, and those who love me in return, don't need any subtle reminders. We love each other just how we are, talented, funny, patient, uplifting; with spices of flawed and awkward and annoying. A notion I can't seem to want to shake in the name of first dates. 

I realized that maybe, just maybe, I hold no particular interest in dating because I don't need to see myself just how another person would see me. I don't need a mirror to tell me I'm beautiful, or inspiring, or even interesting. I've never needed to feel validated through the attention of others. I know I'm all those things and more. I'm proud of what I do, I revel in the work that I do,  I enjoy my gifts of character, I rejoice in my company, I celebrate my relationships. I'm also flawed, awkward, and annoying. The grass isn't always greener. I also talk to myself a lot. Hah!

That's not to say that when the right person rolls around the previous listing won't be in effect, things might just be different then. We might've, say, been our true selves, and had a considerable list of commonalities and differences. And we might've, you know, dated each other not in sought of that elusive sense of self, but for a genuine care and interest in one another. The whole dating thing might've been less self-centered, more giving. 

You know, but that's right now, at 22. Don't ask me again tomorrow.