I’m a GREAT first date. Often I get a text along the lines of “I could easily fall in love with you” after ONLY ONE DATE- I’m paraphrasing, but you get the idea. It may sound like I’m bragging, but it’s actually the opposite: how could I possibly fuck up SO much on a second or third date, that someone would never want to talk to me again?
When you get separated around the same time as turning 30, you become comfortable with who you are as a person, get over your fear of flying, and finally get that tattoo you’ve always wanted (this is way too specific for everyone to have experienced, so it could just be me).
You also start to self-reflect and blame your parents for everything that is wrong with you. You read books, start meditating, go to workshops, talk to your friends and try to figure yourself out.
In a very recent dating experience (that actually prompted this whole blog writing business), I started reflecting on why things didn’t progress the way I wanted them to. My close friends have heard me ask “WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?” waaaay too many times! They obviously don’t know, because they’ve never been on a second date with me to see how horribly and quickly I fuck things up: it’s a skill really!
Anyway, I think I finally have an answer: Expectations. No matter how great my conversations are with a guy before meeting him, I go into it with ZERO expectations: just don’t be racist or a serial killer and it will be GREAT!
Here’s what happens after a great date: I come home a bit buzzed from the gin and tonic, feeling ecstatic from all the laughs. Then I get a great confidence-boosting text that bows the night up together nicely, and something dangerous starts to happen: I start thinking. The mind works in mysterious ways: it’s ridiculous how fast you go from your second date, to having brunch with him while your gorgeous mixed-race baby is smiling up at you from her stroller. I don’t even like brunch that much (I know what you’re thinking: a millennial that doesn’t like brunch? I’m pretty rare), but I do it for love.
Your mind wonders through days, weeks, months, years. You’re not sure about a wedding yet because you don’t know if you want that in your life again… maybe with the right partner, at the right time, and if it feels right? Anyway you don’t dwell on that, it’s easier to skip that part for now. Wait… I’m doing it again. Getting too specific.
Second date is usually less than a week away, because he’s SO eager to see you! You walk in all nervous, not wanting to ruin anything, hoping to be as great as you were a couple of nights ago, and the more you talk the worse it gets. You’re not sure what to talk about- all you can think of is: will your baby have a traditional Persian name or an English name? Something beautiful and meaningful in both languages obviously. His parents are going to LOVE me: I’ll be the daughter they never had. I hope our parents get along. What Persian food should my mom make the first time they all come over?
It doesn’t matter how hard you try to hide it, it can be sensed: you look like a predator. He’s pulling the emergency alarm in his mind, backing away slowly as you try harder to hold on to something that is slipping away.
You leave the second date feeling deflated. You go back to work and tell your friends the date didn’t go as expected (key word).
Your phone buzzes: “You’re the sweetest, and you’re hilarious, stunning, beautiful, you name it”, followed by something along the lines of “but I want you to know that it’s not you, it’s me. I’m just so busy with life right now and we’re looking for different things.”
Wait… we don’t have to go to brunch… I don’t even li…
“We could be friends though” he says innocently. Bumble has a “bff” mode. If I wanted to make friends I WOULDN’T BE ON A DATING APP!!!!
You send out a group email to your whole team saying “guys, we no longer love *insert generic white-guy name* we HATE HIM, but it’s OK, because I have a date with another *insert generic white-guy name* this weekend”, and that one will surely be GREAT!
I’m going to be real with ya’ll: this one post was a bit painful to write, but as shitty as the experience was, something beautiful came out of it: vulnerability, and my ability to finally put my feelings into words. All thanks to a comedian who called me funny and told me to just write.
And in case you’re still reading – the weekend date went great! 😉
The Married Girl On Bumble 