Dating pains

The other day I went on a third date which was the most epic worst third date of all time. At first I thought that it was me and that I was being a silly conservative saffa from the developing world. That I was being a bit too prudish for this world. That I’d have to accept that people up north are far more open minded. I’d have to change. I agonised for days, feeling weird and disrespected. I mean, lines were crossed. Serious lines.

A few days later, and after a few (too many) drinks, I told some of my English friends the gruesome details of the date. They gasped. I cringed. They gasped some more. Then they laughed. A lot. In fact. They’re still laughing. I realised that I’m not crazy and that it’s ok to have the boundaries and expectations I have. I was really relieved. Since then, my story has gone round the town of Guildford and is becoming something of an urban legend in these parts (I’m sure extra bits get added with every telling).

You know, a few years ago I used to envy my single friends who were out dating and having fun when I was in a long term relationship. But since I’ve been single I’ve realised how hard dating really is. And I’ve been doing quite a lot of it lately. Dating that is.

Now that I’m feeling comfortable in my skin again, I feel I’m ready to share my peaceful happiness with someone else. But you know what? I had totally forgotten how scary dating is. It. Is. Terrifying. You feel extremely exposed. You’re awkwardly trying to ‘sell’ your good points to someone else without false advertising or letting too much of your crazy out. And it’s weird watching someone else ‘sell’ themselves to you. Now imagine all of this while dating in an unfamiliar culture, in a new ‘age zone’.

But let’s mind the culture gap for now. Just dating in your thirties is a whole new kind of hard. The rules have changed. And no one tells you what they are. If you happen to wake up in your thirties, find yourself suddenly single and on the shelf (as I did), you quickly learn that the dating game is different. In fact, it’s not even a game anymore. It’s a serious activity.

To those of you from similar backgrounds to mine, dating in your twenties went like this: you walk into a bar/club with some friends, you cross eyes with a potential, he buys you a drink (or a few) and either you get on, or you don’t. It’s all banter, silly conversation and frivolous fun. This is not at all how it works in your thirties.

In my experience, in your thirties, if you’re looking for a serious relationship, you (more often than not) meet online or at work, or are set up by mutual friends. You investigate the person before meeting them. Like a skilled detective you do a full Google background check and in some instances, get a friend to check their Linkedin profile. By the time you meet you know everything about them, short of their banking passwords.

Then you arrive at your date (shaking a little bit) with more notes memorised than you’d take to a job interview. You ask all your questions in a tactful way (hopefully) to see if you and ‘the potential’ are headed in the same direction. Which I guess is fair enough. You’re in your thirties and if you plan on starting a family one day, the clock is ticking. Loudly and at an accelerated pace.

The last first date I went on the guy managed to get my thoughts on marriage, children, country of preference and career prospects before I’d managed to take my second sip of wine (and that’s only a slight exaggeration). He soon let me know that he broke up with his last girlfriend because she was approaching forty and didn’t want children. No pressure then.

It’s been interesting to see what we highlight in our thirties too. It’s no longer all bravado, fun and aesthetics. It’s all about ‘stability’. On pretty much every date I’ve been on I’ve heard all about the houses, holidays, cars and the investments as the conversation highlights. *Yawn* It’s like most dudes I meet are shouting ‘I can look after you’ rather than, I’m a great guy, I have a lot of healthy relationships, people like me, I’m sane and I’m happy. I accept that stability means different things to different people. I guess to some stability is your bank balance and to others it is your work-life-home-family-health-happiness balance. I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy, but I want to hang out with people that make me laugh, question, think, dream, smile, grow. I’d prefer to be with someone who wants to make me happy rather than comfortable (sure sometimes those things relate, but they are not interchangeable).

A year or so ago, while I was carefree and travelling, someone asked me what I’m looking for in a partner. Without hesitation I said: faithfulness, honesty and kindness. That hasn’t changed at all today. Of course, that’s not the whole list, but those are the non-negotiables. This person didn’t accept my answer and went on about how women want status, money and comfort. And the battle of the sexes ensued. Fair enough, some women do want these things. And guys who only talk about their sports’ cars, glamorous acquisitions and fancy holidays will probably attract those kinds of women – just saying.

Now. I don’t have any of the answers. I can’t even pretend to know what I’m talking about – or that I even know what the questions are. I am still so new at this dating thing. But I think what I’m learning is that no matter what (in dating, life and everything else) it’s about being real. Real in the sense of being who you are without exception. Next time a third date turns into my biggest nightmare, I’ll call it over the second I’m uncomfortable. I won’t hesitate. I won’t question my judgement and weigh it up against cultural norms and age divisions.

I think it starts with accepting who you are and giving yourself permission to have feelings, expectations, boundaries and immovable lines. It’s ok if yours are different to others. Your boundaries matter more than anything else. Because they’re yours. Hold on to them. And I’ll hold onto mine.