That Time I Went On a Date

I’ve never wanted to be the girl who dates. I don’t read dating blogs, because I don’t identify with them. I just want my future husband to knock on my door, introduce himself, and get down on one knee. Unfortunately, that’s not how the real world works. As much as I want to give up all control and sit back and let God handle my love life, I know I still need to be an active participant in my love story. He’ll guide my path, but I still need to walk along with Him.

I reactivated my OKCupid account in June. I’m still not totally sold on online dating, but I thought I would give it a try. I want to just get out there, see what can happen, and live bigger than I am now. For me, going to a bar with a guy I’ve never met in person on a date is living big.

I was filled with anxiety from the moment we set to date (Friday night) until the moment I met him (Tuesday night). I thought more of canceling it than I did of going there and having a great time. First of all, we met at a place that only served beer. (I hear they serve other stuff, but all I saw was beer.) I got flustered while talking to him on Friday that I just went with the suggestion he chose, never mind that I hate the taste of beer and have no real desire to acquire a taste for it. The date was set for 8:30, which I also tried to make a problem because that’s late for me when I get up at 5:00AM. And it interferes with my exciting Tuesday night plans I have of going to spin class, cooking dinner, and relaxing in front of the TV for a few hours.

I had a major freak out on Monday night that resulted in many tears and questions. The fact that I have been single for so long and date-less for so long has given me a lot of doubts about myself. I know I haven’t been putting forth the effort from my end, so I have nobody to blame but myself. I know this. But it’s hard to put yourself out there when you’ve been disappointed by men your whole life. Still, I had to do it. I had see what could happen.

The date was wonderful. I didn’t stay too long, maybe an hour and a half. He ordered a beer for me, after I told him I don’t drink beer and have no idea what to look for. It was nasty. I took 3 sips. I’m a terrible person to make him pay for that. (And he kept offering to get me a water so he gets 50 bonus points for that.) We went during a trivia night, which offered good entertainment. (Side note: I killed it in the trivia. I should have participated.) The conversation flowed so easily and he was great about asking questions and actually being interested in my answers. We laughed a lot and I was able to be my normal self with him. I didn’t feel self-conscious or weird or bored. I was genuinely happy to be there.

Not once in all the time I thought about my date did I think I would have a good time. I was hopeful I would have fun, but too caught up in my own panic to even think about that possibility.

So where does this leave us now? Well, I have a second date on Friday night.  

The biggest thing this date gave me was hope. Hope that I will find love one day, hope that I’m not as messed-up in the relationship department than I imagined, hope that I can open my heart up. Maybe he’ll call, maybe he won’t. But at least I gave it my best shot and I can move forward knowing dating isn’t as scary as it once seemed.