I don’t date well. There was a time I really liked it, did it often and with abandon, but that time has passed.
It’s not that I don’t like men, I do. I like the way they smell and feel, the way they can carry heavy things and are generally fun to cuddle with. But when you make a new friend, it’s usually through another friend or a shared activity. You have something in common and your expectations of each other come from that common ground. These days my friends are college students, grad school students, artists, performers, musicians, writers, current & former sex workers who may or may not be writers, animal owners & animal lovers who may or may not be animal owners.
Most of them have never seen me in fancy girl drag. It’s been ages since I put on a pair of stockings and heels. I cannot remember my last manicure or pedicure. I’m more comfortable sitting on a stoop, a beach or a stump in the woods than I am in a dress & heels trying to keep my knees together and the lipstick off my teeth. My friends are fine with that – it’s who I was when they found me.
But when you meet a man, when someone fixes you up, you meet on line or even a chance encounter on the street — there are expectations. They see who you are, or more accurately they see what you look like, and then imagine who you’ll be when they take you here or there. Maybe we all do that. Overlay our own expectations and fantasies on a potential mate based on looks or despite any appearances to the contrary.
I just had a lovely “walk the dog date to plan the real first date,” and I worry that a Saturday night date means something different to the Irishman than it does to me.
I worry he’s thinking restaurant (where food usually winds up in my lap or in my teeth) or a movie (where there is no getting to know you time, only awkward hand holding, kissing questions) or dancing (which invariably will involve expectations of high heels).
To me a date means getting to know each other while we do something fun or silly. It means mascara. And lip gloss rather than lip balm. It means giving you my full attention. That’s it.
Perhaps there needs to be a “phone call to clarify the first date plans made whilst walking the dog.” Because all dates do not lead to high heels…unless you want to wear them and that is a whole ‘nother conversation entirely.
I’d say surrender to the unknown, easier said then done, I know. Don’t try to control the outcome of the date before its started. Go with the flow, and you’ll pick up on his mood, and if he’s disappointed by you not getting all gussied up-it ain’t meant to be. If you don’t want to do dinner, or a movie, and dancing requires heels-what would you like to do on this date? Tell him what you want to do… I bet he likes the way you look, as is. Considering the way you met and all. You’ll have a good time-F*** expectations!
@Nicole Strasser, thanks Nicole. The conversation was had and it’s all good. And you’re right, it’s all about telling people what you need, just sometimes I don’t always know what that is….