“I told him, right before we met up, that I was wearing Chuck Taylor’s (not sequins or a tube top), planned on cussing my normal amount, and that I’m a large dose of sarcastic with long eyelashes to make up for it.

photo by jimshooz7

This comment was by Brittany on the post “Dating is Making Me a Better Man…I Hope“.

I sing your song. I’m a single, 26 year old female, with two degrees, a pretty standard job, a normal, tiny female appearance, a better sense of humor than anyone I know…and maybe I’m a little bit broken. I’ve been jaded by years of unsuccessful, exhausting dating, as it seems you have. We cut ourselves down before someone else can, because we think it’s preserving ourselves. It’s not, we know, but we tell ourselves it does. I shoot myself in the foot, time after time, date after date, so that when I receive that inevitable text (you know the one), it burns less. Except it never burns any less. To make matters worse, I live in a college town (where it’s no longer appropriate for me to seduce frat boys for free drinks), do my dating pool is…non-existent.

Don’t abandon what you want simply because of the rut we seem to be in. Don’t question the qualities you’re looking for in a partner, or the qualities you possess for a partner, simple because no one has recognized them yet. I firmly believe there’s nothing more attractive than a strong sense of self. Be unapologetic about who you are: a well-spoken, insightful, stand-up comedian. You live at home (it’s temporary, remember, you aren’t a fixture there), you don’t have a textbook job (at least you aren’t miserable anymore! You’re better than sticky floors and popcorn), and you may have a little chip on your shoulder (find me a single person who doesn’t, and I’ll call them a liar). Own it. Thosd last things I listed are just circumstances, they don’t define you. You are not unemployment, nor are you a loser that lives at home forever.

Hang in there. I sympathize so much with how you feel. I just went on the best first date two nights ago, so I has a glimmer of hope I may have stumbled upon a good thing. I told him, right before we met up, that I was wearing Chuck Taylors (not sequins or a tube top), planned on cussing my normal amount, and that I’m a large dose of sarcastic with long eyelashes to make up for it. Of course I’ll self-deprecate until the cows come home, but he knows from the get-go what to expect. We’ve already set up a second date, though I will greet him with the same side eye I did the first time. I think I’m inherently doubtful of others.

photo by jimshooz7 / flickr

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