
I met someone a few weeks ago at a friend’s wedding who I had an instant connection with. You know those moments where you leave and think to yourself, huh. That was interesting. I asked my friend what the guy’s deal was — he was cute and we worked in similar fields.
He’s single, last time I checked, she replied.
Later that night after the ceremony, he approached me while I was getting a drink from the bar. We ended up talking all night and he admitted he felt something that morning when we first met too. Nothing happened that night, but the next evening at the post-wedding party we went back to his room.
Later, my friends said they saw us talking and could tell there was chemistry between us. Text him! They all encouraged.
But there was a problem. He was leaving the city in about a month to work and travel around Europe. His job was remote, and he’d been living this life for a year now — coming home for a few weeks to save money, heading back out for a few months at a time. He was a digital nomad.
I am technically a digital nomad, too. I couldn’t help but think this wasn’t necessarily a barrier for me. But at the same time, that would be pretty crazy to tell a guy, hey, if we hit it off, I can always meet you in Europe.
He also made it very clear that he was leaving soon. It seemed, to me, like he was trying to indicate that this was what it was: a wedding fling.
When I got back home, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Part of me wanted to send that risky text and ask him to meet for a drink. But I didn’t want to come across as clingy or put him in an awkward situation. I could feel my “people-pleasing” and desire to be the “cool girl” tendencies coming out.
We’re always told not to show how we really feel. We play games in dating because it’s safe. Nobody wants to be vulnerable. It opens us up to the possibility of rejection.
But at the same time, like Brené Brown famously said, we can’t selectively numb emotion. When we close ourselves off to pain, we also close ourselves off to love and connection.
My brother who has been with his girlfriend for years made a grand gesture to win her back after they initially broke it off. They’d been on a few dates and she wasn’t feeling that elusive “spark” so she called it off. A few weeks later, he texted her that he thought she was making a big mistake and asked her for one more chance. His friends had all told him not to do it, but he did anyway. They’ve now been dating for five years.
You hear these “case study” stories and think, that could be me. It reminds me of the movie He’s Just Not That Into You where women tell each other these one-off incidents to give each other hope that it could happen like that for them too.
But more often than not, we’re all the rule, not the exception to the rule.
I’ve also had men do what my brother did, and I’ve thought it was creepy. Once, in university, a guy I’d been seeing off-and-on long-distance sent me roses and a letter to my parent’s house over Christmas even though I’d told him repeatedly to stop contacting me. It felt like a violation of my privacy and a lack of respect for my boundaries.
How do we know when to make the grand gesture in dating? How do we know when we’re clutching at straws, or if the other person does reciprocate our feelings?
In my case with this guy, I can’t help but feel like if he wanted to, he would. He knows I’m here and available, why wouldn’t he ask me out for a drink?
At the same time, there are so many maybes to consider — maybe he’s worried about giving me the wrong impression if he’s leaving, maybe he’s trying to play it cool, or maybe, he’s just not that into it.
I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do. The romantic in me says to just send that text and ask him for a drink. What’s the worst that can happen?
Don’t worry; I won’t suggest I pack up my bags and travel around Europe with him. That might fall on the creepy spectrum.
Perhaps it’s about weighing the risk-to-reward ratio. In this situation, I don’t lose much by texting, but I could possibly gain a lot. I also know I need to protect myself a little. Is this person unavailable (physically, possibly emotionally), and do I want to get involved with someone who I know isn’t going to be here for long?
Make the grand gesture, or don’t. I think the more important question is asking if you’re okay with whatever the response might be.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
***
You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism |
Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box |
The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
![]() |
—
Photo credit: Cassie Lopez, Unsplash
White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism
Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box
The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer
