No more tree date for me. Shocker.
I’m not expecting to hear any gasps of surprise. Shocker number two.
That fact has me both a bit annoyed and saddened, I guess. Plus, a little on the fence about whether I should even write this post, considering who might be reading along. But then I figure it’s my blog, my life and my choice. Plus…opening this blog, reading and well – hanging out with me – is always at your own risk anyway. You’re a personal blogger or you aren’t. Welcome to my life.
Although. Maybe I should get a recorded message. And sign:
‘This interaction may be monitored or recorded for blogging and complaining purposes.’
The thing about first dates, especially ones ‘out of the ordinary‘ is that they’re under strict scrutiny. Getting out of a comfort zone alone is already hard. Any strains on that already difficult pattern might become sudden deal-breakers. Plus, we women are hysteric creatures. Whimsical. Mean. And unpredictably fussy, after all.
I mean, there’s a boatload of reasons a guy can crash and burn in that precarious period leading up to a date, especially when talking to me. Hell. I could find a turn-off in a miss-placed syllable if I was in the mind to do so. (And let’s face it. I’ve probably been in the mind to do so quite permanently lately. Fucking heartbreaks.).
So when a potential date (however epically arranged) manages to take a week of (quite regular) chatting to get to a casual truthbomb like:
‘Oh. Btw. How do you feel about men with a kid?’
That is not my preferred way to introduce the fact that you….TADA SURPRISE SURPRISE…have one. And well. The ‘I didn’t think that was something to bring up right away…‘ follow-up didn’t really improve matters on my account either.
Cause ehm…having a kid? That’s kind of something you mention straight away. In my eyes, anyway. Or, at least, before we get to talking about hobbies, or how you spend your weekends or what foods you like to eat. If you ask me.
Not that it made the talks any less fun. Or the fact that I actually had the balls to go for something like this any less awesome. It just made this whole thing into a whole mess of factors (unlikely matchup, 90 minute travel distance, baby drama, breakup whatevers) totalling up to a cancellation on my part. I’m actually guessing that this dude in question dodged more of a bullet than I did. Probably. Hell. Maybe I should take my own hints more often and believe myself when I tell myself to get out of the game.
It did make me wonder about deal-breakers in general.
Because when they save love makes blind – they fucking mean it. It does. Nothing else matters when the heart gets involved. But we still spend a whole lotta time painting that perfect picture so we know what we’re after. Only to then disregard it completely. We’re fucked up creatures like that.
For instance: Beards have always been a hard no for me. Yet I’ve dated men with beards. Careers have always mattered to me. Yet I’ve dated both unambitious and unemployed fellas. Babies have always been the epitome of ‘GET THEM AWAY FROM ME‘ and yet I even considered growing old with a guy that just produced twins.
Why didn’t those deal-breakers break those deals?
(And why did the things that did?)
And in that reasoning, could there have been situations where this sudden burst of information from treedate would have been timed correctly, or acceptable?
Is the fact that I’m not ok with it now something to put on my conto instead of his, tying in to my commitment, readiness and attraction? Damn. Is this where I ACTUALLY get to say the line ‘It’s not you….it’s me?!‘ and not be lying?
What if ‘deal-breakers‘ are only deal-breakers when we’re already looking for reasons to back out of something. What if success is already determined way before we even start adding up the pros and the cons? What if starsigns ARE the determining factor and he was a Gemini to my Cancer and the universe was pitted against us from the get-go?
Or what if I’m just a monster?
Why do we even bother listing our preferences and turn-offs ahead of time, if they’re completely separate from our actions. And if they aren’t – why do we overlook them so very often still?
What’s the deal with deal-breakers. I don’t get it anymore.
No more tree date for me. Shocker.