This is not about dating, but it sort of is.
This morning, I saw that one of my girlfriends – a smart, beautiful, successful, motivated, independent woman had updated her Facebook status last night to read simply:
“Hate Hate Hate dating in LA.”
That’s a lot of capital H for lot of hate to be had for dating in Los Angeles. If I could take that H in my hands, I would transform it into Hope and place it right back in hers. She’s right. Dating in LA does suck. I spent the better part of 8 years on one dating site or another; and 2 of those years in an unsatisfying long distance relationship because at least then I had the illusion of not being alone in this big city, with its broken people, starving egos and children, potholes that shake you from your daydream when your car drops into them just when it was getting good; your coffee splashes over the cup holder into your lap, you look up and see the man of your dreams for the fourth time that day before he speeds off in his shiny luxury vehicle, and out of your life forever.
Or maybe your dream guy isn’t the luxury vehicle type. Maybe he’s on a fixie. Maybe he’s more likely to be the pedestrian you almost run over when you swerve to avoid the d*ck in the luxury vehicle who can’t stay in his lane but is probably sending a CRITICAL text message. It probably says something like: “C u at 8 sweaty” and is going to a girl who doesn’t have the confidence to tell him “it’s sweetie, not sweaty - and will you please, for the love of God, take the time to spell out the words when you talk to me. I am at least that important.” No, she probably won’t say that. But she should. Because she is at least that important.
And probably more important than she gives herself credit for. Mr. Luxury Vehicle will probably not show up until 8:30, 8:15 if he’s lucky, and he’ll probably say “oh, traffic!” He probably won’t let her know he’s running late until she calls HIM to find out what’s going on. He will text through dinner. Update his Facebook status. They aren’t Facebook friends yet because this is only their first date. She’ll get up to go to the bathroom and he’ll check his OK Cupid, Match.com; he doesn’t have e-harmony because they don’t approve of his type. He conflicted with their personality tests.
She’ll probably lie at the end of the night and say she had a great time too– or maybe she’s convinced herself that hanging out with someone while they hang out with their phone IS a good time. Maybe she didn’t notice that he was constantly looking everywhere but at her while she talked about her goals in life, and the adventures she’s had or maybe she did notice and has just been on enough dates that went that way that she has become accustomed to it, because it has happened so many times that she thinks that’s the best thing out there.
I say all of that because I’ve been there.
I am probably the person you should least look to for dating advice. This isn’t about dating, though. Not really. This isn’t about how to get the guy. I have no idea how to get the guy.
This is about you. It’s about recognizing your inherent value, girl. It’s about standing up for yourself, what you believe in, and not settling. It’s about getting what you want because you know you are worthy of more than scraps. It’s about admitting that you didn’t have a good time, that you deserve more, and you are allowed to want whatever you want. No matter how big or how impossible it may seem. It’s about nurturing YOU and the things you love, and knowing that damn girl, you’ve got something about you that is just…so…amazing.
So, get it. Get the things you want. Go live a really, really BIG life. Do everything you want to do. And remember, this isn’t about how to get the guy. It’s about how the guy gets you.
