Thoughts. So many thoughts all the time. That’s why I’m here. That’s why this started.
So I apologize in advance if you’re reading this in hopes of coming across some grand realization or relating to something that you thought could never be put into words. I would love to do that for you, but right now, I’m just thinking out loud.
Let me first start by saying that I love this blog. I don’t love it because it’s mine. I love it because I feel like it heals me. I write what comes natural to me. I write what I feel. I’m my most honest self with you guys, and that was a terrifying thing. But it produced the most beautiful results.
I don’t smile bigger than when I read your comments on Instagram and on these posts, or when you repost an article or write me on Twitter. Those are some of my happiest moments.
But, I’d be lying if I said that I don’t wonder if my problem with dating is The Problem With Dating.
Writing a blog about romance and love and dating has it’s obvious obstacles. It airs out my dirty laundry, it puts my personal stories out there, it leaves me vulnerable with absolutely anyone being able to read about things that anyone else would only speak of with a close friend at the click of a button. But I chose that, and I’m OK with that.
Then, of course, there’s the whole are guys gonna wanna date me after knowing that I write a dating blog?!
Valid point. But like I said earlier, I love this blog. It is a part of me and a part of who I am and, I believe, part of my purpose. The right guy for me would understand that, welcome that, root for that and support it because he supports me.
The other obstacles, the less obvious obstacles, are the ones that I didn’t even know I was dealing with until people would bring them up.
Remember the guy I thought was the one? Well, during our first phone conversation, he told me my blog made him a little cautious.
My initial reaction was, “Why? Because I might write about you?” And he said no (thankfully, because we all know I’ve definitely written about him). He said it made him feel like I had expectations that he couldn’t meet. I was so confused. I didn’t think that way and I definitely didn’t think I gave off that vibe.
Fast forward to recently, and a girlfriend of mine, who is much more level-headed and rational than I ever will be, was talking to me about my dating life and just myself in general. It was a Coming to Jesus conversation (I bawled twice), but the point is, she said the same thing.
Maybe your blog puts out these unrealistic expectations.
That got me thinking. I try…TRY…not to have expectations, but the truth is, I do. If I treat someone with respect, I expect a certain level of respect in return. If I offer my time and love to someone, I expect a certain level of time and love back. Does that bite me in the ass? Yes.
That’s just the unfortunate consequences of living by the Golden Rule. Treat others as you would like to be treated. The fine print of that rule that we don’t notice until we become older (if you’re lucky), is not everybody is you, therefore, you can’t expect them to treat you as such.
But when it comes to dating, maybe I do give off this fairy tale vibe? Maybe I sometimes let the idea get the best of me. Don’t get me wrong, I still believe in all that. I believe in passion, I believe in love, I believe in finding someone who will make you feel the butterflies and all that jazz. I do. And if that’s me being naive, then so be it.
The difference is, I don’t expect someone to come in on a white horse and sweep me off my feet.
All I want, truly, is a man who reciprocates the love I have for him. A man who is not afraid to give me his heart, because he knows I’ll take care of it. A man who will know that it’s terrifying to open yourself up to someone because of the potential pain that could come, but is willing to take that chance, because he knows that the possibility of not doing so could result in something much worse.
It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.
And with that, we’d make our own fairy tale. But it’d be better than anything you could make up, because it’s real.