A few years ago, during my very short stint as lifestyle editor for a youth-oriented magazine, I pitched a story to my editor that basically espoused the idea of dating yourself. Since we wrote for impressionable youth of college age, and going through the whole college dating (or non-dating) scene myself, I felt it was important to show single people (single girls, mostly) that being single was not the curse many people thought it was. This whole concept was lost on my editor of course, and I don't blame her. She was pretty, smart, and genuinely kind. I imagine she found it hard to believe that there existed a shortage of men available to wine and dine the female college population. More than that, I imagine she questioned the logic of any girl who would want to forgo the rules of dating (and society in general). What self-respecting girl would skip ahead of the dating part and go straight to dessert? And if not to date, then what for?
Now, I'm sure it is obvious that I was a girl unlike my editor. I was the girl who sat patiently while other girls talked about their dream dates, when their respective significant others had surprised them with pre-ordered gourmet dinners followed by gargantuan bouquets with hidden concert tickets to her favorite musician's show, or with dates that took them from rollerblading to picnicking to smooching atop a lighthouse tower, who imagined how the food tasted at the posh hotel they had been taken to, who wondered if such a date, or any date in the same ballpark would materialize for her. now many years out of college, i still wonder. it just never happened for me, i guess.
But then, it almost never happens for many girls like me. this realization brings me to another unfortunate realization: sometimes, no matter how great the girl (and i don't even mean me), it just never happens. And what is to become of those girls who never bothered to go out or get dressed unless someone asked them? what kind of permission did they need to be able to taste good food, to see spectacular sights, to seek out new experiences?
the many years of waiting to be asked out has made me a bit (a lot) cynical, to be sure. as an act of defiance, i had eschewed the whole meeting people thing. it got to be too frustrating. i had built wall after wall around me, until i got to the point where i am now: so isolated from the world that even my job allows me to begin and end the day without any form of human interaction, except from my editor, who i am required to touch base with. i got emotional connection only from fictional characters in the books i read or the things i watched. i had become so bent on trying to get by alone that i no longer even attempted to find anybody.
as i was sitting at home yesterday, going through yet another old episode of ally mcbeal (my own brand of self-torture, but that's a story for a different day), something one of the characters said got to me, about wanting love but no longer believing in it. i had always assumed that i was afraid to want love because it might not come, but i had never considered not believing in it until now. how was it possible for someone to want love and yet not to believe in it? but it was true in my case. i stopped believing in it so much that i stopped existing outside of my fort, where there were moats but no bridges. for all the thinking that i do, it never occurred to me that no one could find me even if they wanted to. i was never out. so, for the benefit of all single sad mopey girls like me, yesterday was the first day of testing my idea. i went on a date with myself.
i went all out - put on a dress, fixed my hair, even put on my makeup. then i found a nice place to go where i wouldn't run out of things to do. i had packed provisions in the form of a good book, my journal, and 20 hours worth of songs on my mp3 player. i felt a bit funny at first, walking around and watching young couples shepherding their children like cattle through easter extravaganzas. but after a while, i felt fine. i even managed to have fun. somewhere between feeling insecure that i was not a young mom and wife and wondering if i would ever get married, i managed to have fun, all by my lonesome. i went to a nice new restaurant and gave myself freedom to order anything i wanted. i consumed my meal while reading my book and writing in my journal. i went to a different one for dessert and ate tempura fried ice cream while squished between table upon table of happy couples who were feeding gyozas and noodles to each other. i survived. i got some curious looks from others, pitying (i imagine) looks from some and maybe even some interested ones (without my glasses, it was very hard to tell), but i survived. i liked it so much that i decided i would take myself out for coffee so i could finish the chapter i was reading. i really did have a great time.
for me, the lesson in dating yourself is not so much being seen or discovered by whoever it is you're looking for (though if it happened it would be a happy bonus), but in giving yourself permission to believe that you are worth the effort. to spend on at a good restaurant, because you've been dying for the excuse to try it. to make the effort of putting makeup on, or fixing your hair, of putting a great dress on, for no other reason than because you want to. that if no one asks you, you do not have to sit home and just take it. you can go out, with others if you please, and choose what to do and where to go. if you manage to get over yourself while you do, i promise that you can have a lot of fun. i know i did. so here's to a second date, a third date, and a lifelong love affair with myself, finally. i am enough of a reason to celebrate. this is my way of believing in love again, i suppose. i believe it is possible, or at the very least, worth making an effort for.
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