Confidence? Who says I have confidence?

I recently turned my attention to a bit of self-realization: the more I like someone, the more neurotic I get (to which I was told by a friend, “Duh, you’re a girl”). You’d think age and experience would lead more to self-assurance and confidence, but alas — still that brain part quivers and twitches, semi-desperate to be loved, but still playing it oh-so-casually — or at least as calmly to the other person as possible. Dear lord, I hate dating.

I don’t remember relationships being so hard when I was younger — in fact, I know they weren’t. It went proximity + crush = relationship, problem solved for x.

Now, not so much. Sure, we all form our first impressions of someone in the first 7-30 seconds of meeting them, and sure, first dates are the worst situations known to man (on par with job interviews), but is it just me, or do people just not want to make the effort anymore?

Maybe I really am desperate to be loved, though I don’t actually think that’s the case, but it seems as though 99% of the time, the boy has given up earlier than I might’ve been inclined.

Now, two things here to address — I’m referring primarily to those dating situations from the last few years, and not so much the relationships. While even those might’ve ended before I was ready, I’ve dealt with it and moved on, with perhaps a minor exception or two. Everyone’s allowed their Waterloo.

Secondly, I’ve never pretended to understand guys, but the one thing I can conclude from all this dating and rejection is the common denominator in it all — yours truly. No, this is not the bid for pity that it may seem. Quite the opposite, actually — I recognize that I am a unique and special sort who requires not just anyone to complement me, and cope with my neuroses. I will look, instead, to my so-called failures from this positive perspective: rather than being repulsed by my hair/body/face/voice/perseonality/perfume/sense of humour/whaever — these guys recognized that they did not have the special traits I require (a kinky side!), and therefore couldn’t live up to my needs, and so they elected to move on, rather than, as would be inevitable, disappointing me.

How’s that for vanity? Hah! Sure, I’ve been rejected or brushed off many times in the past, but I’ve gotten fairly blasé about dealing with it. While male attention is nice and all, I recognize that not every guy I meet is automatically going to think I’m awesome, and that’s fine — it spares me the burden of having to be equally interested in them, especially if I’m not.

* * *

It’s time to break that fourth wall a little more than usual, not that it ever really happens to stay firmly in place for long around here. See, sometimes I get an idea and start an article, but don’t immediately finish it in one sitting. There it languishes, reminding me of my obligations and its needs, until I return to it and either finish and (eventually) post it, or decide it’s crap and try for something new.

When I first started that article, I was in the process of dating a few people, and I was feeling somewhat girly-stupid about one of them. Things were going well, and I was allowing myself to get a little neurotic, but more or less keeping it in check. Fortunately, I don’t seem to stay too neurotic too long anymore.

The funny part, and what demonstratesthat my life is vaguely reflected in this site, is that since I started this article, my perspective has changed somewhat.

See, I’ve met someone, and I feel… secure. My self-doubting voice is silent, and I feel confident that he genuinely likes and cares for me, too. Usually; I am still me, after all.

Anyhow, I’m not feeling — at least overall — my semi-usual neuroses, and I consider that a good sign. I’ve found someone with whom I’m a good fit — he’s smart, funny, interesting, considerate, cute, sexy, and wonder of wonders, has been fooled into thinking I’m these things — and I’m happy. Funny how things work out, eh?

Life is good.


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