It’s been a while. Let’s catch up.
I haven’t been on a date in nearly in six months.
And I have zero matches on Bumble. (If anyone has had success with that app, please let me know because Bumble has been a giant dud for me).
Here are some other numbers for you:
Currently I have 5 conversations needing my reply on Hinge.
1 conversation I am waiting on for a response.
4 conversations are hidden
All of these men are under the age of 35. (that is NOT a flex. That’s just…a fact).
Let’s get back to the “no date” topic.
Most of my matches have wanted hookups.
There’s this odd phenomenon that’s happening with young men and older women. They love matching with me…they just don’t really want to date me (but let’s save that for another post).
Anyway. It’s not like I haven’t been asked out on a date. I have been. Twice. Both flaked.
One bailed because he said he was suffering from a severe kidney infection, which, okay, yes, I guess nearly dying is a viable excuse for canceling a date.
The other was a guy who I matched with on Bumble. He asked me out for cocktails. Great. I love initiative.
We pick Saturday. He says it “could work” but needs to check his schedule.
Silence.
I nudge him on Thursday. He says actually, early next week is better.
Cool. Things happen. I give him options. We land on Wednesday.
He asks for my number for “planning and flirting purposes.”
I was excited for that. Except…there was no flirting. There was barely planning.
Just updates about his gym routine and three separate apologies for being “so busy.”
Then — and I counted — apology number four comes with a canceled date. “Family issue.”
At this point I’m like… are you trying to date me or or slowly phase me out until I’m just a notification you ignore but don’t fully delete.
He asks about next week. I tell him I’m free Monday or Wednesday. Silence again.
So I finally say: this isn’t working. You’re giving mixed signals, and I want someone who is actually excited to meet me.
He responds immediately. Of course. Suddenly he’s available, emotionally present, and ready to lock in Wednesday.
I say fine — ONE condition: you make the plan. Time, place, everything.
He does.
And then… later that night…
He texts me to say we should “go our separate ways” and that he takes “full responsibility” for being a bad communicator.
Umm…you could have taken responsibility by simply… showing up to the date.
Fine. Bullet dodged. I need to remind myself that a when guy shows you who he is BELIEVE HIM (I wonder what Maya Angelou would think of her quote being used to avoid crunchy guys from dating apps, but here we are). Basically: if he can’t plan a date, he’s not the guy I want to date.
Then, a few days ago I matched with a guy who seemed witty enough to sustain my interest for two days of small talk. After telling me about the picnic he’d like to take me on, he casually mentions: “Hey, if you’re interested, you can send me a selfie of yourself doing things around the house” and proceeds to send me his number.
Excuse me?
Things around the house? Like laundry? Washing dishes? Staring into the night sky, asking WHY GOD WHY AM I MATCHING WITH THESE FOOLS?
Sir, if I’m going to set up a tripod so I can take photos of me doing everyday shit to satisfy someone’s kink, I’ll set up an OnlyFans account and get paid for it, thank you very much. No one’s seeing me vacuuming for free!
Later, I texted my friend: I JUST WANT A NORMAL GUY TO ASK ME OUT ON A NORMAL DATE…AND GO THROUGH WITH IT!
Yesterday God seemingly answered my prayers. A guy on Substack asked me out— if I was ever in Toronto.
Just a short five hour flight for awkward small talk over coffee. Love that for me. I guess I’ll need to be more specific with my prayers next time.
A couple weeks ago I went to a singles event as a media invite. I kept my expectations low, which was smart, because… it was another bust.
I met some nice people. One guy did ask me out. But there was no spark.
Sigh. I’m just a girl wanting a scheduled calendar invite that actually happens with a guy I’m into. Is that so hard?
Today, one of my Hinge matches asked me out for Friday. He wants to take me on an evening stroll and teach me how to play cribbage. Cute, right?
However I’m working that night, so we might reschedule. Or we won’t. Or he’ll need emergency surgery.
At this point, I don’t believe a date is real until I am physically sitting across from a man who has shown up, on time, and is making eye contact. But, nice eye contact. Not, like, creepy eye contact.
Anyway. Until this happens, first dates are just a concept to me.
Like a man who says he’s “good at communicating".
Meanwhile, I think I’m going to delete Bumble. And I should probably get rid of those hidden messages too. And I don’t know.. maybe not date?
Because I’m doing a REALLY good job of that lately.
Okay, honestly, how do I feel about it all?
Well, look, I’d love a crazy handsome man with a big dick who doesn’t have any childhood trauma, who doesn’t shy away from the “what are we?” question, who texts back consistently, who loves his mom but not too much, and who wants to have sex with me in a bathroom stall as he professes his undying love for me—and means it.
Where is this man? I don’t know. Maybe he exists, maybe he doesn’t. I’d like to think he does. That’s why I keep showing up on apps, and singles events, and remain open. Open to life, love, and guys who don’t require me to submit audition tapes of me doing laundry.
Look, this isn’t a post about how tragic the dating scene is, or how unreliable men are (although, hey, if it walks and talks like a duck). Seriously, though, I think this comes down to timing, and I hate that I just said it because it’s like the number one thing you don’t say to a single person — “Your time is coming,” “It’ll happen when you least expect it” — but it’s also kind of true?
We can’t control how love will find us. We don’t know when that first date will click and suddenly it all makes sense—why all those other dates didn’t work out, and all that cliché stuff they feed us. But that’s also kind of true? Because it only takes one great first date to be your last first date.
So what do we do when it feels like we can’t count on Joe Schmo to show up?
We show up for our own dating life.
Showing up means going on the date even when you’re tired of dating. It means not disappearing when you’re discouraged. It means saying yes again, even after a string of almosts. It means saying what you want, what you need, and sometimes that means saying no to a date.
I know it can get discouraging. I know it’s frustrating and disappointing at times. But I think so much of the reward comes from showing up for the things we want, even when there’s no promise we’ll actually get them. You show up anyway—for you. Because it’s that important to you.
My friend sent me this yesterday:
He said: That’s you.
And I kinda like that for me. “The one who love always wins.”
Even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. Even if you think you’re losing.
The fact that we still believe love is POSSIBLE?
That’s a win. And I’ll take it.
Thanks for being here!
Love, Brie xoxo
P.S. Let me know: Am I the only one?! How is dating going for you? Any good first dates? any flakes?!
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.