When the Risk Isn’t Worth the Reward
The therapist smiled so widely when I told her that I was entertaining the idea of dating again.
She isn’t the first person to get excited about my declaration and I still find it odd because… why do people express more excitement about JUST the idea of dating than other things that are actually more fulfilling? I think it speaks loudly to what those particular people find fulfilling for themselves. Regardless, I said I was entertaining the idea… I didn’t say that I was actually dating anyone or even close to dating. Here’s where it gets even more weirder for me…
I have valid reasons for thinking that dating is a waste of my valuable time.
For one, the prospects aren’t giving promising.
And not promising in some unrealistic, delusional type of way but in the kind of way that indicates the risk isn’t worth the reward.
Imagine being raised to be accommodating to others to the point that when you aren’t, it’s insinuated that you’re selfish. Imagine not wanting to but still attracting people who feel entitled to your safe space but not too eager to reciprocate on an even micro level. Imagine this being the dreadful hamster wheel it sounds like but people still “encouraging” (see: pushing) you to not give up, as if this is something worth dedicating precious time to…
…I’m here to say it isn’t worth the time, blood, sweat, tears, gaslighting, bullshit, and broken record conversations.
The therapist said “you keep going until you find that person who made all your efforts worth it”… but who said I was looking for a person? Never once have any of these people, therapist included, asked, “what IS worth your time?” or “what do you value more than romantic relationships?” THOSE are the conversations worth having, to me. Sure, my outlook might be different if I was the woman who dreamed of weddings, babies, a house with a picket fence, and a dog to call my own in one nice and neat bundle. But I’m not that woman and honestly, I wasn’t that girl either.
I dreamed of freedom, adventure, books, architecture, and the impossible becoming possible.
A boy, man, nor any other possible type of significant other has been in the center of those hopes and dreams. That isn’t to say that boys/men have never been part of my life; they have but trading my wants and needs in for theirs always felt like it would be death by a thousand cuts. I didn’t desire for them to trade in their wants and needs for mine either and I have yet to meet any male humans that approach relationships from a partnership perspective… one that CONSISTENTLY INCLUDES both people’s hopes and dreams. It’s always been their story they decided to fit me into… which becomes disappointing in the end because it was never ME they wanted. I just fit the mold in their mind perfectly for the time being OR they convinced themselves that I was malleable enough to stuff into the perfect mold of their mind. Maybe if romantic interests cared more about me beyond what I could do for them, I’d care more about this and the risk would be worth that… reward.
However, I’m not silly putty, clay, or playdoh.
I’m a real ass person, with a beating heart that can break, flowing blood that sometimes slows down from sadness or races forward in excitement, a thinking brain that wants to make sense of it all, and bones that crack, break, and splinter because words and actions do hurt me. And it all seems to be too much for most people… and for those that it isn’t, they’re far, few and in between. So no, the risk of pouring my time into dating isn’t worth the “reward” of being in a couple.
I desire more out of life and people, so I think I will retract my statement to entertain the idea of dating. I also don’t see any point in having conversations about dating so I look forward to discussing more mentally stimulating things.
From my fingertips to the universe…
