
Myfirst dating strategy was dating apps. Then, I decided dating apps just weren’t for me. Instead, I was going to bartend as way to socialize and meet suitors (and make some much-needed extra cash). Then, I quit my bartending job after one shift because I didn’t like the environment. Too many privileged college students and Jello-shots.
Truth is, there is an overwhelming part of me that is so deeply resistant to real human connection right now.
…
It started during during the 2020 pandemic lockdown.
Something broke inside me.
Something broke inside a lot of people.
Chronic loneliness has since become a pandemic all its own, especially among young people (though at 35, I no longer fall in that category.)
Now I’m emotionally shut down, preferring the comfortable, safe bubble of remote work from my laptop. Even going back to in-person office life has proved a Herculean task for me. My supervisor is so insecure and sensitive that she makes me uneasy. If not spoken to like a delicate, adorable child, she crumples. It’s a wonder I keep my patience. Somehow I do it, if only because I am secretly hankering for a permanent position in Human Resources.
…
There is one attractive man at the office. But he also seems scared of me. Perhaps he too has been recently broken. I suspect he is going through a painful divorce based off one quick comment I heard my supervisor make to him.
Maybe it was wishful thinking.
I’ve definitely made some effort to interact with him, even when I’m nearly laughing while doing so because of how startled he seems by me. Regardless, he’s rarely in the office. Still, I’m proud of myself for making myself appear warm and charming to a member of the opposite sex. That’s a good start.
Baby steps.
I’m heading to a social event tonight. My fourth-grade daughter’s }Meet the Teacher” back-to-school Night, actually. Then, we are supposed to head over to my friend’s house, an additional effort on my part to be social again.
I’ve begun opening up to her lately, in an effort to re-socialize myself.
I wonder if I’ll ever be that same vivacious, unbridled girl again.
Truth is I’ll never be a “girl” again. At 35, I’ve firmly crossed the threshold into “woman” territory.
…
It certainly helps to talk with my friend. Turns out, we have some stuff in common. We both had nasty mothers growing up. Hers is now dead and she wishes so deeply that she had made proper amends before her passing. She warns me to change my tune now, lest I deeply regret it later.
She’s also coaching me on changing my thoughts, thoughts that got twisted after 2020 really messed with my mental health.
The negative thought-patterns.
The darknesses.
The pits of despair that sometimes frighten me.
She points out when I speak negatively about myself or the world or others in a way that is clearly toxic.
I’m trying to really learn this time. So that I can relearn human connection in a healthy way that perhaps I wasn’t well-taught as a child. Maybe becoming emotionally healthier is the key to building a healthy relationship with a partner, a life goal that I am dedicating myself to, despite my own repeated attempts at self-sabotage.
Baby steps.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
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Photo credit: Zest Tea on 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
