Dating is hard as balls. No pun intended. It is. Not just because I’m in my 30s and have already plundered Tinder. Not just because I’m a girl that (really really) doesn’t want kids and likes her career. Not because I don’t do the happy family thing and suck at household chores or can’t cook to save my life. Not even because I am a horrible hag with a serious case of resting bitchface. – Billy Mays voice – There’s more!
Guys are sore fucking losers.
And so dating is hard as balls. Especially considering my favorite type of dating – that caters to my incessant need to WIN and where balls are definitely involved. I say it again – keep your dirty minds in check, because what I mean is: I like competitive dating. Do-dates.
Sitting awkwardly on chairs and talking about what makes us tick while pondering the possibilities (or other forms of dinner dates) never really worked for me. I don’t really ‘shine’ in company, and I definitely never say the right things during plain dates like that. So when you catch me dating – we’re usually doing something with a slight active edge. No hardcore survival-ling or archery tag, mind you (although…well…I wouldn’t say no). But it’s definitely gonna be bowling, or playing glow-golf or going at it in a round of pool or darts.
But what I’ve found over the years is that actually ‘winning’ can be quite detrimental for you dating success. Strange, but true. I mean. I’m a very sore loser myself (and a mean winner, too), but honestly – I’ve had dates crash and burn when the other party lost (to a girl(!!)) and suddenly had no real interest in any continued effort anymore. Which. Fucking. Sucks. It kinda makes ‘dating’ become a thing – a chore. A must-do to not end up a crazy cat lady (but just crazy).
It’s strange. In my day to day life I’ve never found it in myself to excuse myself for being anything other than myself. I’m unapologetically ‘just me’, take it or leave it. Yet on dates like these I find myself shielding parts of myself. Toning down. Hell – I play dumb and let guys win just in hopes of being ‘acceptable’ to them. And then go home and beat myself up over it.
I repeat. Dating is hard as balls.
It’s a good thing I play softball now – guess I’ll get better at handling them eventually.