Posted on August 15 2017
Being yourself goes without saying, but why is it one of the most difficult things in the world, especially when influenced by the ones closest to our hearts? I have a little story to share that will further prove my point.
Recently. I met someone. Physically, he was tall, sandy blonde hair, scruffy face, green eyes, beautiful teeth, and adorably dressed. On the inside, he was kind, compassionate, warm, and sorta bratty. The way that we met was a total fluke... let’s just say we were both at the right place at the right time. We chatted over Facebook messenger for a day or so before I told my sister how incredibly “boring” he was. She told me to give him at least another day or so, because she knows 1) how patient I’m not, 2) that I’m a tough critic.
I cut up left and right. I’m completely sarcastic, love to laugh, and most people would describe me as a “ball buster”, excuse my french. I fire back with what I think are witty one liners and often, if you’ve just met me, you usually don’t know how to take me. My most favorite phrases are, “that’s what she said” and “your mom (fill in the blank)”. See? I told you I was mature.
After giving it another day of texting, conversation was getting better and this adorable gent asked me to dinner. The night he picked me up we made some small talk in the car and by the time we got the restaurant, things seemed to be flowing well. We continued to laugh and learn more about one another and he suggested that after dinner we go mini golfing.
Now, if you also know anything about me, you’ll know that I am not graceful at all. When I was younger, I broke a lot of things (a fiberglass basketball backboard-don’t ask me how, I’m not sure how I did it), and when it comes to anything sport related, you can forget about it, unless it’s baseball.
Back to the story with the adorable gent. We played two games of mini golf and I stood there wondering, Will this be the first of many mini golf games we play together?... (Shush, so I move sorta fast, but I don’t go on dates with guys, that I don’t see even a glimmer of a future with.) I hadn’t ever been on a date with a gentleman who was this respectful, who would open my doors in a nonchalant way, a gentleman who was so kind, and more importantly, I had never laughed this much on a date before, ever.
When he dropped me back at my house after mini golf, he walked me to my door, gave me a hug and headed home. He text me as soon as he got home and told me we’d have to do it again sometime and I agreed. (low key of course) Then, my brain was left to swirl about our entire evening together. I felt confident, excited, and I really really really wanted to see him again.
But after the next few days, I grew less confident, started really thinking about what I should say back to him in our texts. I didn’t want to appear too eager in case he wasn’t on the same page as me, so I C O N S T A N T L Y asked my sister what she thought, what I should say back and what I should do. (We all have that person we do this with, right?) I just needed a sounding board... but the more that I asked for help and sought out her advice, the more lost I was in my own thinking. What I was saying and doing wasn’t even me anymore, it was a conglomeration of what my sister and I thought would be the best thing, which definitely wasn’t, because he seemed different towards me.
After a week and a half of straight texting and no face to face time, I decided to cut the crap and just throw everything out the window. There’s no rule book. There’s no “best” way to approach this. So, I took off my metaphorical thinking/dwelling hat and put on my literal Cubs hat and just decided, I like me, and if he wants to see me again, he will make the time. If he doesn’t, then I can leave with knowing that I had, hands down, the best date I’ve ever had in the history of dating, which is a short history because I don’t date much.
Long story short, he and I didn’t work out. After trying to plan a few more times to see him and he just not having the time, or coming up with constant excuses, I gave up. I put things out on the table and he still didn’t seem receptive. I mean, every girl likes to be pursuee, not the pursuer, right!? I’m not going to chase you down and twist your arm to hang, either you want to and will make it a priority, or you don’t and won’t.
When I look back at it, I can’t help but feel silly and ridiculous. I AM eager. I AM impatient and I ALWAYS urge people to be true and real and raw and the fact of the matter was that I wasn’t. I’m not saying it would have changed the outcome, but I really do like who I am, I was just scared to show him, because to show means to be vulnerable.
So, in everything, be yourself and be vulnerable. Always remember who you are to the core, because the ones that matter aren’t going to leave your side and the ones who are truly special, WILL make you a priority in their lives.