Dating is a funny thing.
Dating is awkward as it is, but it’s even more awkward when you’re sober. I used to drown my discomfort in a glass of wine, telling stories my date couldn’t follow, but since moving to Boston in 2016, I’ve barely dated at all.
Well, compared to when I lived in New York City, that is.
Sure, I’ve met people in various ways- traveling back from NYC on the Megabus, substitute teaching, through recovery circles, and on an app here and there. Each interaction lasted for a very short while, most likely because I detected their bullshit and realized I was something much different than what they created in their mind.
This morning I noticed that The Fix quoted me in their recent article, “Are You Ready To Date Sober?” Ironically, I’ve been thinking about that question a lot lately.
My default answer the past year or so has been “I’m not interested in dating anyone at all.” That’s actually not true, though. I would be interested in dating someone- but only if they were interested in a sober vegetarian cat person.
I’m done with pretending I am someone I am not.
I’m also done with changing for someone, switching my views, or doing things I’m uncomfortable with doing- and I’m certainly not going to pick up a drink just to make you feel more comfortable.
Part of recovery is learning to love and accept yourself for who you are- loving yourself for what your heart says, not the world around you. Despite being someone who prefers to stay in on a Friday night, sautéing up vegetables while drinking a seltzer, I’m confident there’s a lid to every pot…
I just might not be ready for mine yet.
You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you first meet someone?
That little sign that says, “stay away,” or even, “he seems a little douchey?”
I try not to generalize or stereotype (keyword: try), so I often used to ignore that gut feeling.
I give the poor chap the benefit of the doubt, despite his obvious attempts at overselling himself. Over the past 15 years or so I’ve seen the same patterns, over and over, and as soon as I do, I shake my head and think “damn it, Kristin, you already had this one pinned.”
Within the first few exchanges, if a man suggests going on vacation with you, talks about your future, wants to introduce you to his family, or takes you somewhere elaborate, run. Fun fast.
Listen to your intuition.
It won’t oversell itself to you.
I’m not talking about the Oscar-winning song or the 3 foot end of the pool.
I’m referring to people who lack depth.
The people who only see me for what I look like. The people who are driven by status. The people who are more concerned with job titles than the purpose of what they do.
I’m not interested in your money, your condo, or where you got your degree- I want to know you as a person. I don’t care where you work, but I do want to see past your ego.
I recently met someone who never asked about my writing, my recovery, or my job. Sure, they complimented me on my appearance, but they cowered when I mentioned serious things about my life, and seemed to forget I don’t drink. Ouch.
They didn’t want to know me- they wanted to me to be what they wanted me to be.
This is common in today’s society. In a world of Real Housewives and Kardashians, it can be hard to find people who want to sit and have meaningful conversations. It doesn’t have to be serious, but I do want to know what’s underneath the exterior (and I’m not talking about getting someone naked).
I want to know where someone is at spiritually- and I want to have a good understanding of who you are– not what I want you to be.
I’ve come to a point in my life where my own boundaries and self love are greater than putting on appearances to be accepted- I would rather be rejected than be untrue to myself.