Comes love, and nothing can be done...

Okay, I think this one will be the last of my “ohhh I’m sooo insecure!” posts. Because I’m getting annoyed with them/myself. I just want to get it out there, because this is the topic that I have never ever brought up with friends, ever. My close group of friends know absolutely everything about me, and I mean everything, but this is the one thing that I don’t talk about.

Dating.

*cue thunderously ominous music*

I think by that you could guess that I’m not dating? Hmm? Nope. I haven’t been on a date in 3 years, maybe? And I didn’t even realize it was a date until a year later. Oops.

You may have seen me hint in a few other posts about a particular boy…I keep hoping there is something there with him. He is…perfect. I’m going to leave it at that because in the event this here bloggeroo makes the rounds amongst those I know, I want no traces of any hints of his identifying characteristics.

Oh you didn’t know? I’m a total chickenshit. I could whine about the fact that no guy I have ever liked ever has ever liked me back, with the exception of one guy in high school when I was still kind of hot. I could tell you about my insanely intense fear of rejection, and about the time(s) when I have desperately liked someone, only to have friends end up with that person, and I have to see it happen like it’s okay. I could tell you how all of my close friends are slender and gorgeous and/or are either married with kids, married, or in looooong-term relationships, and then there’s me.

But I’m over it.

I am funny, silly, smart, well-educated, easy-going, kind, I have a pretty face and I love football, damn it! You know what happens to me when I am around guys that I don’t have feelings for? I am myself around them, which is to say: goofy, talkative, inquisitive, and relaxed. These are the guys that end up liking me. Now when I interact with someone I am interested in, I’m terrified, quiet, and alllll sorts of awkward (the exception to this is The Boy, of course) because I’m worried he will know I like him, and then it’s RejectionTown, Population: Me. I think we see a pattern here.

I’m sick of it.

I know exactly what I want. I want to go on dates and STRUT when I walk in the door to meet him, because I know I’m a hell of a catch. I want him to be excited to show me off to his friends. I want to look good. I don’t want to be afraid of getting naked for the sexygoodtimes. [EDIT: do these three sentences make me sound slutty? I mean, I also want a boyfriend, and someone to share my life with, but those come after the things I mentioned do they not?] And most of all, I want someone that I want. Because it’s one thing to go out on a limb and give someone a try, which admittedly I should have done in the past – but it is quite another to settle for less.

Now, if most of that is incredibly shallow and vain, well, apologies. But they are feelings I want to experience just as much as confidence or happiness. Losing weight is the last piece of this puzzle. And I know I could make the effort to date now if I wanted, but I still think I have a little too much self-loathing left in me for it to be worth doing now.

So those are my crazy crackpot thoughts and theories on dating. They may be weird but they’re mine, and this whole blog and effort to lose weight is partly motivated by it.

PS: Know what else? Mom has told me on several occasions she has thought that I’m gay and afraid to tell her so I eat to deal with it, and that it was the reason for my weight gain. She has said more than once, “If you’re gay you can tell me, it won’t matter” and she may even still think it. It is nice that my mom is so accepting and liberal, except for the fact that I’m not gay and she watches too much Lifetime. But really, it’s easier for me to let her think whatever she wants than for me to say out loud “no, Mom, it’s because I’m fat and visually unappealing and the odds that I would get over myself long enough for a guy to notice me and see through the fat are one in seven point five trillion”. Oy.