Date or Ditch: The Art of Smiling Through the Disappointment!

Remember those days when we were all wide-eyed 16 or 17-year-olds, sitting in the college hallways, listening to our friends' captivating stories about their dating escapades? So do I, Nodding and laughing along, pretending like I could relate. I listened intently to their stories, curious for a taste of what it would feel like to be taken out. It seemed like everyone was moving forward, but I lacked the experience to truly engage with their conversations. I might have had a couple of 'dates' back in secondary school, but if we can call a week-long fling where the highlight was sharing a bag of crisps' grown-up dating ', then we've really heard it all. It's funny how things change so fast when we turn 18 and can start going out to bars. It goes from playing in the park and running through rivers to planning the next night out, recalling the last date disaster we went on and work, work, work.

Fast-forward three years, and I'm still trying to figure out why I ever put so much importance on those moments. If only my younger self could see what the future held—perhaps I would have sworn off dating altogether! Then I decided to go on dating apps, and something changed; I learnt what proper dating was and discovered a mix of charming distractions and, let's say, puzzling personalities, but even now, at 21, I still feel 17, young and clueless. Navigating relationships is like assembling IKEA furniture without instructions: confusing and hazardous. (Why is there always one extra screw?).

I find myself pondering, "What's with men and an inflated sense of self?" It's like they emerged from their Mother's wombs wearing a crown. But there's something alluring about a handsome guy, right? Like a moth to a flame, we seem to flock to these guys, even when we know they might just singe our wings. You'd think we'd learn? Wrong! 

As I delve deeper into my dating history, I think back to my first date in the world of romance with a guy named Robert. Admittedly, Robert wasn't a standout. He didn't possess remarkable charm or an adventurous spirit. But he did offer an abundance of attention for a girl stepping into the dating pool that was practically a lifeboat in the sea of awkwardness. 

Meet Robert: the quintessential 'boy next door'. Picture this - a 5'7" (probably) sandy hair that always looked casually tousled, radiating a laid-back and approachable vibe. Dressed in graphic tees and a pair of long cargo shorts, he was living that biking life, selling and repairing bikes. While he lacked the flashy traits that I quite liked, his ordinariness brought me comfort. Robert was a welcome start to my journey. In hindsight, he represented a moment—a small step into a larger world of experiences that would teach me a great deal. Sure, he didn't sweep me off my feet, but he made me realise that even 'ordinary' can feel like a warm hug. 

Ah, the first date—a rite of passage filled with nervous excitement and a bit like the feeling you get when you have to go to the dentist. I remember mine vividly, a not-great but okay experience that began with high hopes and quickly veered off course. We had decided to head to the movies, a classic choice that seemed perfect for breaking the ice. However, as the lights dimmed and the opening credits rolled, I realised that perhaps a dark theatre wasn't the best venue to get to know someone new (That and I had been looking forward to the latest film - It was Marvel!)

As the film began, he leaned over, attempting the usual small talk. "What do you think?" he whispered, eager to engage in conversation. My instinctive reply —"Shut up, I'm trying to watch this!"—escaped my lips before I could pull it back. While he was sweet, I found myself becoming increasingly engrossed in the cinematic experience and enjoying the popcorn, ignoring his optimism that didn't leave as he smiled and laughed in response. Was this a sign of incompatibility, or just a case of "We both should have chosen a different pastime"?

Post-film, we made our way to a nearby restaurant where I had made reservations, thinking maybe just, maybe a change of scenery might salvage the evening. I had chosen a burger for dinner, thinking it would be a safe bet. Until the biggest sauce-filled burger came out, which I'd struggle to eat without creating a condiment crime scene. Meanwhile, Robert launched into a monologue about his cycling adventures, recounting his job, hobbies, and childhood, and I found my attention drifting. My mind wandered instead to the unexpectedly warm and sunny weather outside (where we were sat on a terrace), something rare in England. I thought about how tanned I would get when I got home and couldn't wait to sip rosé.

At that moment, I began to look at him talking. I couldn't help but wonder: was my lack of interest a subtle warning sign from my body, saying girl, this guy isn't right for you? Run while you can. Could this be the first indication that we weren't a good match? The tricky part of first stepping into dating is deciphering these signals. Is there a potential romance here, or is the universe nudging you towards the exit. 

After these thoughts, I said to myself, give it a chance. You still don't know much about him. After the meal, we decided to walk around a river, where we sat on a bench and stopped and talked for what felt like hours. I admit I started to enjoy myself. We got along, but what if the heat was going to my head because I wasn't attracted to him. As we walked back into town, he leaned in for a kiss and I made a smooth excuse for being late for my bus and jogged out of there. Safe Exit? Check!

As I sat on the bus home, I felt disappointed. Have you ever had that gut feeling about someone, a sixth sense telling you that something just isn't right? That's how I felt the whole afternoon, despite the good. It's wild how our bodies can often sense different energies and vibes before our minds catch up. This brings us to an intriguing dilemma—should we trust these instincts or let logic kick in? And pretend we don't hear these doubts?

The aftermath: it became increasingly clear that he wasn't the right fit for my life. Despite that awareness, we continued our FaceTime talks, which felt more like a Netflix show I was halfway through and growing bored with. My efforts were strong, but after about a month, perhaps clinging to the idea of what could be. During these chats, I was avoiding an in-person meet-up. Have you ever felt that meet-the-parents dread, but instead, it's just meet-the-date dread? The turning point? Sure, there was a sense of comfort in our digital exchanges, but deep down, I was getting more meh than excitement. 

One of the glaring differences that stood out was his lack of ambition. He seemed perfectly content with his life, dreaming of his next cycling adventure. The thought of spending my days cycling aimlessly felt utterly dull to me. To make matters worse, our culinary preferences were like oil and water—how can someone not enjoy Asian cuisine? What are we even doing if you can't appreciate my Pad Thai? And there it was, the clarity hitting me like a double shot of espresso. As I examined our conversations more closely, I realised how little we actually had in common. Each shared moment felt like a chore rather than a joy.

My tip is to shake your head and think, "This is so not going to work." And you know what? That's totally okay! Ultimately, it's a wild jungle out there, and our instincts? They're like your personal GPS. Listen to them! They'll guide you to the connections that truly resonate. Because newsflash: we deserve so much more than mediocre dates with guys whose ambitions stop at cycling around the block. So, as we gather our wits and gear up for the next romantic debacle, remember to trust that nagging feeling, embrace your logic, and, above all, keep that sense of humour intact. Because if we're going to navigate this crazy dating landscape, we might as well laugh through it! Cheers to future escapades!

Summary

From the awkwardness of a movie date that lacks meaningful interaction to the struggle of enjoying an overly saucy burger while trying to tune out his enthusiastic stories, I reflected on my feelings of incompatibility. Nevertheless, I resolved to smile through the discomfort and give Robert a chance, highlighting an essential aspect of the dating journey: the necessity of staying open-minded, even when things don't initially meet expectations.

As the evening progressed, I transitioned from distraction to discovery while strolling by the river. Our conversation blossomed, revealing that connections can emerge in unexpected moments—even if they don't lead to romance. Ultimately, the night concluded with me instinctively choosing self-preservation, illustrating the delicate balance between giving someone a fair shot and recognising when to maintain boundaries. This reminds us that every date, regardless of the outcome, is crucial in the ongoing journey of finding genuine connections in a larger, often unpredictable world.

Kaiden: My Romantic Plot Twist

As my interest in Robert waned, my attention shifted dramatically with the arrival of another person—Kaiden. He swept into my life and consumed my emotions in a way I had never experienced. Suddenly, everything else felt trivial by comparison. Each day became exciting, full of anticipation for our next conversation or encounter. Little did I know a year after meeting him that he wasn't the light I had thought he was. 

But seriously, when I first met him, I was ready to throw my cares into the void, all because of this charming fellow who had the audacity to make me feel butterflies instead of mild indigestion. Days turned into a wild rollercoaster of anticipation. You know the feeling, right? The kind where you're refreshing your messages like your life depends on it convinced each ping will announce his latest witty comment or a "let's hang out" text. About a year in, I finally took off my rose-coloured glasses, but enough of that until next Thursday.