Every other day, my mailbox gets bombarded with messages from men interested in dating me, wanting to sleep with me, or seeking me to be the mother of their children. Yet, in reality, I can go for months without engaging in any sexual activity. Currently, I am deeply entrenched in the unfortunate experience that is involuntary celibacy for over a month now.
The reason isn’t a lack of options; in fact, I have plenty. I often pick up numbers from men at bars, as well as those I encounter at grocery stores. Additionally, there are always guys I once slept with who text me randomly at 3 am. However, I’m at a point where the prospect of sex with men who aren’t particularly interested in me feels nearly as unappealing as one-night stands with new acquaintances from bars.
With limited alternatives, I’ve spent the past two years engaging in “things” with various men. It’s essential to note that these are “things” rather than “relationships.” Relationships occur when two individuals genuinely like each other and don’t mind others knowing about it. They entail declaring your status on Facebook, spending sober time together, and becoming socially significant. I’m mainly speculating about this since I haven’t had a genuine relationship in four to five years, and the one true “relationship” I experienced was somewhat of a calamity. Regardless, my life has been filled with plenty of “things.” The term “things” signifies intentionally and coincidentally running into each other at bars, leaving in separate ways (or discreetly) to hook up, experiencing hurt feelings, engaging in drunk escapades, inappropriate texting, and miscommunication, including booty calls. Some of these “things” might resemble “relationships,” but they lack those elusive “boyfriend/girlfriend” labels.
Many of my experiences include men who genuinely care about my feelings; however, more often than not, they consist of me being smitten with guys who just don’t quite feel the same way, at least not enough for a “thing” to evolve into a “relationship.”
I’m aware that I should not attribute my ongoing single status to the men I’ve attempted to date. Yes, I seem to gravitate toward emotionally unavailable jerks, but I’ve also seen some nice guys while I’ve been the emotionally unavailable jerk. At times, I lower my cynical walls just a bit to let a guy know there’s a heart under there, but usually, that ends with him taking my heart, treating it poorly, and then ignoring its messages.
Most recently, I had a “thing” with a guy that lasted around 8 months. Our encounter began with a “missed connection” on the bus one day, where we engaged in intense eye contact. Luckily, fate and some alcohol connected us at a dive bar a couple of weeks later. Fueled by superhuman courage from consuming numerous drinks, I approached him (I tapped him on the back) to say that I recognized him from our bus encounter. I can’t recall everything that happened afterward, but somehow, my missed connection didn’t completely freak out and we exchanged phone numbers. I have a hazy memory of us making out around the bar corner, but until recently, I had doubted if that event occurred.
After leaving the bar, I managed to accidentally send him some texts meant for someone else (note: NOT accidentally on purpose). Following that, I spent hours vomiting in my bathtub and passed out fully clothed. My relationship with a thousand beers is quite unhealthy.
I’m still puzzled about why he didn’t dismiss me as just another crazy woman from a bar, but thankfully, he didn’t. We hung out a few days later, and we hooked up some time after that. After a few more encounters, he mentioned needing to discuss something with me. I braced myself for news like “I have a girlfriend,” “I have herpes,” or “I have a kid,” so hearing, “I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking for something really serious” was somewhat tolerable.
He somehow managed to make the hard, cold lump of steel that is my heart beat a little faster. Our time together was sporadic,But the sex was very intense. Occasionally, he would hold my hand while we were out in public.
His texting skills were horrendous, which nearly drove me mad. I get that the expectation for someone to have their phone with them at all times and to reply to texts promptly is somewhat ridiculous. Yet, it’s 2011. Most people always have their phones nearby and typically respond to texts within an hour or so. When a text goes unanswered, it conveys a subtle, “screw you.” An unanswered message from a guy who’s seen me naked clearly communicates, “I’m not really that interested in you.”
Indeed…he was a poor texter. This suggested that he didn’t care much for me. Nevertheless, when we spent time together, he was charming, funny, and had a resemblance to Liam Neeson. It didn’t hurt that he often invited me to meet him in the bathroom or outside the bar, where he would pin me against the wall and kiss me passionately, leaving me with torn tights and shaky knees. We would get together maybe once a week, sometimes even less, for several months. Our “thing” never evolved into a “relationship,” but ‘Liam’ was never dishonest with me, nor did he treat me poorly or disrespect me in any overt manner. He, in many respects, helped me recognize that I’m pretty decent, dateable, and perhaps even lovable.
A few months back, it dawned on me that I’m a grown woman, prompting me to do something I had never attempted before. I took the initiative to conclude my situation with my Liam. Well, I didn’t precisely end it. However, I did express that I desired a relationship that he wasn’t able to provide, and I wouldn’t continue with our current arrangement. This was monumental for me. I had never possessed the self-respect to believe I deserved more than what a guy I liked was offering, regardless of how little it was. He handled it graciously, acknowledging that I deserved better and expressing a hope that we could remain friends. He said one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard from a guy, which is now in my book: “I wish I had had time to get sick of you.” I found myself shedding a few tears on my walk home, and I’m not usually one to cry.
Nothing can make you feel truly valued quite like receiving messages from 100 creeps online. No, I’m serious. For the first time in my life, I had men inviting me to dinner, rather than just asking if I would attend some party or knew where to score some weed. I received messages from doctors and attorneys, bros, creeps, and quirky individuals. Messages came from men resembling David Beckham and others who looked like Larry David. What I came to understand is that there are indeed plenty of fish in the sea, and many of those fish would be interested in dating me.
Since then, I’ve learned (through tough experiences) that true rejection hits differently when it comes from someone you met online. Additionally, I have passionately made out with my Liam in a shopping center photo booth and been seen exiting his apartment still in my outfit from the night before.
Yet, I stroll through that walk of shame with my head held high. Because I am a grown woman. And there are countless fish in the sea.
by Debbie Dot
