I don't know why I've decided to do a blog on this subject. Maybe it's because I've been thinking a lot about it lately. Maybe it's because I've been sleeping badly. Maybe it's because I am reaching 30 and am starting to worry.
When I think about the fact that I am nearly 30 - less than a week for the curious - it feels unreal. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that, my entire life, I've always been several years behind my peers. I remember feeling lost my whole time at secondary school. I just didn't get it: Couldn't keep up with jokes, music, fashion. My little group that I spent time with were similarly lost and we were bonded through our confusion and the fact that we were just out of step with everyone else. Boys were like another species. I didn't understand them and they certainly couldn't understand me. When I went to sixth form college, it became less of an issue to fit in and I discovered two things: That I could be myself and that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing to be. But still, boys. Couldn't talk to them and they didn't seem particularly interested in talking to me. And to be honest, that's the continuing pattern. Don't get me wrong, I don't not talk to half the population in the world. I can actually talk to my friends who are men. Male colleagues hold no fear for me. But I really struggle with the romantic thing. I don’t get approached by men when out. I did internet dating for a bit last year – had one guy bail pre-date, had a date with one guy who was very, very dull and had three dates with someone who I got on with but didn’t really fancy and who felt the same way about me. After that, I gave up on it because it was kind of soul-destroying. I’m not the most interesting version of me on dates. I hate small-talk with a fiery passion and, conversely, I’m overly eager to please so tend to try and keep conversations going and ask questions even though I’m bored. I want them to like me even when I’m not that bothered about them. This is ridiculous. And most of the time, I just want a script because the effort of knowing what to say is exhausting. I’m never more than a yogic stretch away from having my foot inserted into my mouth at the best of times.
The problem is that I am starting to feel the pangs of loneliness so know that at some stage I am going to have to get back into the game but, at the same time, really don’t want to. I lose so much of myself when I’m in a relationship. I’m so grateful that someone has chosen to be with me that I stop caring about what I need from a relationship, which is an entirely different matter from what I want. I’ve made some really bad choices out of some sort of need to fix something that’s broken. Coming out of the relationship, I realise that I haven’t actually fixed anything; I’ve just papered over the cracks. People do change but not if someone else is doing all the work for them.
I’ve been indulging my need for romance by reading chick-lit and watching romantic comedies. I still have Anna Karenina staring at me from my pile of unread books, raising an eyebrow at my embarrassing need for happy endings. I find chick-lit oddly fascinating, though, mainly because of how reassuring they are. The fact that you know that, despite the trials and tribulations of the heroine, she will get together with the man that, from the beginning, has practically had a big sign over his head saying “he’s perfect”. Then, on top of that, regardless of the story itself, you know from page one what’s going to happen. I have had to stop reading Isabel Wolff though. There’s knowing what’s going to happen and then there’s finding the heroine so dense that you’re nearly screaming at the book in frustration at her stupidity.
I get that it's unrealistic, though. That whole notion that I'm going to meet someone who will be charming and funny and JUST RIGHT seems like a load of bollocks. I've never had a meet-cute. An obvious point given that I've already mentioned that I don't get approached by random men while out in the world. I've never been asked for my number or had a non-sarcastic chat-up line, never been bought a drink by a stranger. I don't think it's got very much to do with attractiveness but I think it goes back to me being out of step. I have no idea how to give out signals or what sort of signals I'm sending. It's like when I tried horse-riding on a camping holiday in France. Every five minutes or so my horse would bound into a trot or a gallop and I had no idea what I'd done to make it do so. Evidently something about the way I was sitting was saying "run, for the love of God, run" but I have no idea what it was. The people leading the ride probably could have told me but we hadn't covered equestrianism in French. So yeah, I'm giving out the wrong signals but I have no idea what these are (probably still saying "run, for the love of God, run" just, you know, away as opposed to t'ward) and the instruction manual is one about horse-riding. In French.
But I seem to be surrounded by people who've got it right. Who sent the right signals, met, fell in love, stayed together. I don't know what they did or how they knew. I don't want to trust in luck or fate but I don't want to botch it either. But in terms of being pro-active, there's no-one at the moment that I would choose to pursue (famous people don't count but if it was feasible for me to pursue Jeffrey Dean Morgan then I would). And my whole unable-to-read-signals thing means that I would be terrified of approaching someone I don't know. I'm kind of stuck really. I guess I just have to be patient, which I'm good at. My romantic life stays where it is and where it probably should be for the time being.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
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