The Emojis I Use Make Me a Red Flag

I’d never really thought about dating, not because I had unreal expectations about it, but because I was always focusing my energy on something else — like school, books, binge-watching shows I had already seen a million times.

I always thought I’d get to it eventually — until eventually became just failed talking stages and the realization that maybe I did have unreal expectations.

Anyway, that’s not the point.

I’ve had my share of talking stages right before and at the beginning of adulthood. I encouraged most of those, purely out of boredom whenever my friends weren’t available to hang out with me.

One fine day, when I was wearing a casual, everyday outfit with my hair frizzy, loitering around the campus with my friends, a failed talking stage saw me and decided that it would be a good idea to DM me on Instagram rather than just approaching me then and there.

I knew he wanted to meet me that day the moment his notification popped up while I was watching my friends suck at table tennis in the sports arena.

I played along with the small talk, the tedious 5-minute wait before replying (even though I had seen the text) to not seem desperate, and felt an adrenaline rush building inside me.

I checked myself in the mirror five times, confirmed my “decent-looking human status” from my friend, and walked across the hallway where he was standing, with a stride I’d learned from my training sessions at the college’s modeling club. (That career path did not work out because walking on the ramp with hairy legs was not part of their job description.)

Before I tell you how the meeting went, here’s a little backstory–

We had started talking when I was preparing for my board examinations, and the talking stage ended even before my examinations started.

For those of you who are not familiar, boards are the most important exams for Indian parents and the most useless ones for the children taking them.

We talked for a brief period during which he called me — I’m sorry — he shaded me online as a red flag because I used the skeleton emoji.

I thought maybe he got the ick, and someone who herself has a million icks shouldn’t be the one to judge.

He then proceeded to label me as someone immature for having high standards.

Coincidentally, his doubts about me being a “standard freak” deepened when he overheard my friend say to me, “Oh god, you never seem to like a book because of your high standards in good content and plot.” I just wanted to tape her mouth shut because I knew he was eavesdropping — in moments like these, I thank god for peripheral vision.

Back to our fateful meeting, which lasted for five minutes and included no significant conversation because we were both extremely nervous. The air between us was thick with awkward tension as we stood there, shifting our weight from one foot to another, our eyes darting everywhere except at each other.

He thought I was intimidating and judgmental, while I just wanted to make him realize that I am just a sweet, nice, and wholesome girl who is not critical.

I still don’t know why I was hell-bent on proving that I was not uptight. I think I was just not self-aware enough back then.

During the small talk, he again tried throwing shade about how I probably don’t like anyone at college who is worth getting together with, and this time, I did not get defensive because I low-key agreed with him.

Our meeting ended with us bumping into a chair because we wanted to rush back to our classes and wanted this misery to end. (I have never loved the idea of studying more.)

And what happened soon after had me giggling and laughing till my stomach ached (credits to self-deprecating humor):

He unfollowed me.

As an overthinker, I put on my cap and started analyzing, scrutinizing, and forming hypotheses of every minute detail of our conversation.

Was I too critical? Was my hair the turn-off?

I brought every little flaw of my being to notice and tried to figure out what I did wrong until I realized something important: maybe he left to find something that needed less effort.

I am never going to hear from him again because the next time he tried sliding into my DMs, all I did was use the skull emoji — sometimes, it is fun being a red flag!

—

This post was previously published on medium.com.

***