Bewritings

I didn’t go on my first ever date until I was 19. I’m not sure if that’s considered late, but it felt very late to me. Honestly, I was really embarrassed about it. It felt as though I’d ‘missed the boat’ of finding your feet in dating. 

I’m sure other people feel the same way, in fact I know other people who do. And, going to university doesn’t help this insecurity. I found myself surrounded by people either in relationships, dating around or engaging in hook-up culture. Which is great! But to me, it was all too intimidating. So I avoided it entirely. 

This left me in my first two years at university feeling really inferior. Struggling with my self-confidence anyway, it was basically impossible to feel sexy when I felt so incapable of being desirable. I felt as though I was the last person anyone would look at, which is probably true. Not because I was repulsive or anything dramatic, but because my nerves would mean I looked like a deer in headlights when meeting anyone new.

This led to a really vicious cycle where my insecurities would stop me from putting myself out there, which apparently ‘proved’ my point that I was undesirable as I was rarely approached. I came to the conclusion: if no one will even look at me in a club, who will ever want to date me? It felt as though I couldn’t even get past level one, instinctive attraction, so I may as well not even try with anything beyond that. 

So, this ‘realisation’ led me to cement a lot of my identity in being the insecure, funny friend: as I was never going to be the pretty flirt. Obviously, there is more to life than being deemed pretty, or being a smoothtalker, but at the time I felt I had failed as a woman. I placed all my worth in my attractiveness and desirability, and thus felt I was not worth much at all. I could go on for hours about how this is a product of internalised misogyny, but I don’t want this to turn into a (rightful) criticism of the patriarchy. Maybe another time I’ll delve into that. 

I wish I had some amazing advice on how to overcome this, some inspirational spiel about ‘loving yourself’. But, in all honesty, I just reached the ultimatum: you can’t avoid it forever. I wallowed in self-deprecation for so long that I became sick of my own internal monologue, sorry to my friends who had to listen to it too, and thought: Fuck This. 

So, I downloaded the terrible trio (Bumble, Tinder and Hinge) like I was going to war. This may not seem like a big deal to some people, but this is my personal perspective, so… shush. Due to all the years I had put so much pressure on dating, it felt incredibly daunting to actually try it. I felt as though everyone was so much more experienced than me and I was probably going to embarrass myself. 

But, I’ve been on some dates that have actually gone well, which felt like a huge step for me. I’m obviously not completely settled yet, insecurities still sometimes prevail. (Fingers crossed one day I can be so obsessed with myself I border on  arrogance!) But, I have noticed some improvements in how I view myself.

To clarify, I’m not suggesting you can only see yourself as beautiful if someone else does, because that is not true! Instead, putting yourself out there and pushing past hesitation does wonders. I wanted to date, but avoided it for so long, so when I finally gave it a go I was doing it for me. Not for Harry 1 mile away (6ft 3 if that matters). 

I have personally been told that I should be glad I waited to start dating. You know, figure out myself before jumping into something serious. And, although I agree with the sentiment, dating too young is a tricky game, I have a different opinion. 

I’m not glad I waited this long. I’m not glad I let insecurities and doubt stop me from having fun. I’m not glad I put all my worth in my appearance from such a young age. So my honest advice would be if you want to do something, go do it. Don’t waste years, like I did, wondering what your life would be like if you were the pretty flirt. 

Don’t get me wrong, dating as a twenty year old isn’t some kind of fairytale, it can be weird and uncomfortable. But, it does feel nice to finally do something for myself, in spite of my (irritating) internal monologue.