I hate dating.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t always like this. I’m a social person, who loves being out, dressing up and talking about my work and hobbies over a cocktail with an interesting man. What girl doesn’t? (Especially when so many of these eligible bachelors that I’ve had the chance to dine with have been so easy on the eyes!) But like many things that we start with enthusiastic, go-getter love, for instance the way we feel when starting a new workout (Don’t I look amazing in my new workout clothes?!), or even when we open a new credit card (Swipe! Swipe! You mean I have to pay this back?!), I soon grew to despise it. And I know what you’re thinking! You’re thinking it’s because I’ve been on lots of bad dates! However, what would you say if I said that I’ve never been on what most people would consider a bad date? It’s true. The girl who quits dating does not have any traumatic stories that typically clog the dating blogs. No skips on the bill, no ever giving the excuse mid-date that, “I should really go because my great, great, great grandma is very sick,” and no climbing out the bathroom window because, “I have to get away from that creep!” I’ve never done any of those things.
I could say that part of it is my gift of intuition where I know if I’m going to hit it off with someone within the first few minutes of meeting them, but I also know it has to do with luck. I have been somewhat lucky. Even my time on Tinder (which I’ll get to) was oddly normal where the closest thing to weird was talking to a guy who owned a pot-belled pig in the heart of Los Angeles! (That’s a little weird, no?) But despite what I’ve been saying, what I don’t want is to give is the impression that my flirtation with “normal” means that I and the people I’ve dated are boring. None of these men were boring, nor am I. They were in most cases pretty great, as am I.
So why do I still hate it?