My calm, cool demeanour, tough shell and ability to remain
focused yet approachable under fire is one of the things I pride myself
on. I am a natural-born leader, always
willing to think of others and consider all the possible outcomes from any
particular course of action. I appear
unflappable, confident and in control. But
I have a confession to make. I have no
idea what on earth I am doing in the dating arena. Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of
experience, lots of great (and not-so-great) stories, a wealth of tips and
plenty of advice for my friends when they come to me. But the truth is, when it comes to dating, I
am somewhat inexperienced. Most of my
frissons, flings, fumbles, fuck buddies and forevers have been random meetings,
commonly through friends of friends and work colleagues. Apparently this is not a shocker. Given that we spend more time at work than at
home, it is natural to meet someone there.
And as our friends want their variant mates to get along (easing awkward
social scenarios), it makes sense to hang out with someone whom you already have
something in common. So I have never
really been in a scenario where I have dated, especially not casually and
non-exclusively.
My friend, who I shall refer to as B, has been my lifeline
throughout this process. From coming to
terms with the fact that the London dating scene is primarily online (although
that said I met 2 guys in the space of 5 weeks), to helping me know what to say
and do, he has been an utter godsend.
Without him I would have thrown in the towel again and gone back to
celibacy for definite. But, I am pretty
sure I have been driving my poor friend mad with my questions about it
all. Because not only am I new to online
dating, but I am actually new to dating full stop. So I don’t know how it goes. I don’t know what the rules are, I don’t know
what’s acceptable and what’s not - Google has some good advice but let’s face
it, I’ve never been one for really following the rules, and doing so seems
somewhat anathema and alien to me. So B
is my sounding board. I ask him what a
guy means by a text, what his intentions were when he leaned in for the
goodnight kiss, what I should wear. Where
I should suggest for the first date, should I see him again, how soon should I
sleep with him. How soon should you be
meeting his friends, what does it mean if he spoons you after sex, does love at
first sight exist, how can a guy be an Adonis but a crap shag, bla di bla di
bla. It’s exhausting, and of course it
can’t be much fun to hear. I do try to
listen as much as I talk, and the irony is that our romantic experiences seem
to mirror one another, at exactly the same time. Which does help, but it’s a bit daunting – if
one of ours is going well and the other isn’t its our shared experience that
the one going well goes down the pan. So
we both hope for success. But sat in the
café over lunch yesterday, we made a group of (straight) middle aged men laugh
at our stories, and our realisations that we seem to share the same love
life. I met a married guy, he found out
his new squeeze was married with kids and a boyfriend. He slept with what seemed to be a nice guy
who later transpired to have issues – so did I.
And we both react the same way when the guy we like texts. We both would rather be single than with Mr
Wrong. These things, which may sound
trivial, are actually fundamentally important.
But it is strange when your love life is a mirror of your friend’s.
B has, to all extents and purposes, become my default
boyfriend. He is wonderful, always knows
what to say, and knows me. I am
comfortable with him, can (and do) discuss anything with him, and feel like I
can just be myself. Happily there is no
sexual tension or danger of us hooking up, as he is gay. Which makes him the perfect guy – not only is
he great as a friend, but he understands both what I want and what men are up
to. When talking to him this evening, I
realised that although I have been somewhat neurotic of late (given an
overwhelming attraction to a drunken sailor I have nicknamed Popeye) I am not
necessarily looking for a relationship, as I pretty much have one with quite a
few of my friends. I am not looking for
a man to overtake or supersede that, but to be a pleasant addition with whom I
can explore the romantic side of London.
And of course have amazing sexual chemistry with. Except…. The reality is not quite the
same. Not only do you have to meet
someone and make that connection, but you have to maintain it. Hence the dramas which can make a cool, calm
and collected woman turn into a clichéd ‘female’, and have her forwarding texts
to her exasperated friends asking ‘did he mean this or did he mean this? What do I say in reply?’ Lord knows I don’t
want to be that woman, so why do I let a guy do that to me? Because there’s something about a little
passion that gets under the skin. And I
just don’t understand men. But I don’t
feel a man would fill in a gap in my life…. Well maybe in my bed. But I’m not looking for completion.
So, to any guys out there who may be reading this, I would
respectfully request that you behave like a gent, call when you say you will,
and don’t play mind games. Also a little
bit of clarity over text would be helpful, given that you can’t discern tone,
intent or anything else. And make the
effort to get along with your other half’s friends – unless one of them tries
to seduce you, chances are if there’s a choice to be made, you’ll be the one
pushed out.
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