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We have come to live in a swipe right culture. Where there seems to always be someone or something better coming just down the line. This is both an invigorating and an exhausting culture to live in. Bad grammar? SWIPE RIGHT! Crazy eyes? SWIPE RIGHT! Sends an unsolicited Dick pic? SWIPE RIGHT!
I’ve never been a relationship person. Sure lots of people say this but truly I mean it. I could count the number of dates I have been on, on one hand and have ghosted more men than I care to admit. That’s the thing about a swipe right culture, if you get bored, creeped out, or even scared you may have found someone who might value and respect you - you can block them and begin the swipe process again.
Im not proud of my actions. I wish I could tell any potential suitors that becoming a ghost truly is, as cliche as it sounds much more about me than it is about you. Unless you sent me a dick pic, come on man that ones on you! My own self-loathing behavior has often made me feel that no one could spend more than two dates with me let alone love me for eternity. The fear of these thoughts coming true often become too much for me to bear. What if we meet and he thinks I’m repulsive? What if he walks right out as soon as he sees me? What if He thinks I’m boring or weird? What if I have nothing to say? What if we kiss, and he thinks I’m a bad kisser? What if he never calls or texts back? What if this was all some bet made by his popular friends, like one of those 90s rom coms? Sure these sound like the rantings of a crazy person, and perhaps they are just that. However, they are the thoughts and worries that weigh on me in many interactions, especially when it comes to dating. So rather than subject someone to all that it’s easier to become a ghost. Really i felt I’m doing this person a favor. My intention is never to ghost, however as conversations progress these inner mumblings of insufficiency seem to creep in.
With all of that being said, recently I ended what seemed like the most serious and long term relationship I have ever had. The suitor? A man who spoke English as a second language and lived 5000 miles away in London. The relationship? Around 9 months of texting on and off. Before you scoff or roll your eyes, I said am not a relationship person. So for me, this was serious.
We texted good morning and good night, we asked about each other’s days, spoke about travel and work. I anxiously awaited a text that usually began with “Hello my American girl.” He joked that he loved me and I joked he was my boyfriend. We argued if we ordered a pizza if it should be plain or pepperoni. We decided half and half would be fair. With thousands of miles between us I could be whoever I wanted to be. I was confident, I was bold, and I was sure of myself. While he had real photos of me, in a very real sense I was the catfish. I had never been this confident and sure of myself and before long I grew to believe I was entitled to be this confident and vibrant person.
The distance meant there was no promise of us meeting over drinks or dinner. Until, he wanted more. He said he would come to NY or buy me a ticket to London. I would wait days to respond or change the subject. Soon my message was clear and so was his. He had developed real feelings for the confident, vibrant catfish I painted and it was now time to cut the line.
I didn’t ghost him, we didn’t fight, it just fizzled. My delayed responses followed by his, our last text exchange was insignificant chatter about the shows we were binging.
It’s hard to mourn someone you never really knew, it’s even harder to morn a relationship that never was. It would be too hard to explain to anyone what one feels. Honestly, I miss him. I think of him often. I wonder if I should reach out, but for what? Solely to prove I can reel him back in? Maybe.
In time, I feel grateful to him. Grateful he allowed me to create this confident and vibrant person. Grateful I could allow some of this confidence to bleed through to the real me. Making me realize I do deserve love. Making me believe meeting for one drink with someone you never see again isn’t the monumental event I built it up to be. Making me realize that while I might not be everyone’s dream girl, there are men you there who’s want a sarcastic, smart and driven woman. For him I wish only happiness, someone local who can meet him for drinks. Someone he can binge watch Netflix and order a pizza with, half pepperoni & half plain.
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