Last night, Laurie over at My Potential One True Love wrote this, about dating and being single. I liked it and it resonated, so I shared it on Twitter. Since setting this blog up, I don’t think anything I’ve tweeted has been retweeted so quickly and so widely. Clearly it’s not just me for whom it rings true.
If you read this blog regularly, you’ll know I don’t really date. I say I’m going to date, but in reality my patience levels with OKCupid are similar to those of an eleven-year-old boy with ADHD.
And here’s why.
Dating is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be about the butterflies that you get in your stomach when there’s the promise of great chemistry, the fun of picking out the right outfit, the thrill of kissing someone new. And, you know what, it can be about sex, too.
Guys like the one Laurie wrote about (and he’s not unique: even in my very limited dating career I’ve met at least a couple) seem to think dating is a constant battle to get a woman to put out. I wish Laurie hadn’t used that term, but I’ll get onto that in a second. In short, it’s not.
I buy the shit about which date you should first sleep with someone less and less, but I’ve certainly felt bound by it in the past. When I first met the boy, I waited until the third time we went out, but god, it was a struggle. There are definite benefits to not fucking someone the very first time you meet them – the anticipation and the flirting, to name just two – but equally, whether you opt for sex on the first date or the fifth, only one thing really matters: that you want to.
I’ve been pretty lucky with the guys who’ve played longish-term roles in my life, in that I demand honesty, and more often than not, I think I get it. One guy told me upfront that he wasn’t interested in a sexual or romantic relationship with me and that, given that I really liked him, it was up to me to decide whether it was possible for us to go on being good friends. The boy, too, admitted pretty quickly that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. Sure, from time to time lines get blurred, feelings get hurt and it’s not always that simple, but it at least suggests that nobody is deliberately trying to fuck you over.
And honesty is what I think is lacking with a lot of guys on OKCupid. Yes, I ultimately want a serious relationship, but I am totally up for good sex until I find that. What I don’t want is for you to play the situation as if you too are looking for a relationship, only to then get pissed off if I then expect more than just sex, or for you to think that even ‘just sex’ doesn’t warrant a bit more interest in me than a couple of ‘Ur beautiful’ messages.
Likewise, get over your fucking FOMO. If you arrange a date with me, or Laurie, or any other girl, have the decency either to cancel with notice, or to turn up. Don’t wait until we’ve turned down other plans and taken the time to get ready, just because you might have a shot at fucking someone hotter than us, or because, god forbid, you might not get laid and then you’ll wish you’d stayed in and watched the football instead.
Because this isn’t the 1950s. I like sex too, and when I arrange to meet up with you, I’m hoping it’ll end in the bedroom just as much as you are. It’s not about how many drinks you buy me, or whether you bring flowers, it’s about whether I feel comfortable with you and, more often than not, how much you’ve fucked me around.
That’s why I don’t like the expression putting out. Putting out is something you do to things that are a hassle, like the bins, or the cat. To me it suggests a reluctance on the part of the person doing it, a sense of a battle fought and ultimately lost – all things which, in short, should have nothing to do with sex.
I’ll fuck you as and when I choose: neither dick pics nor insults will change that. But a bit of damn respect? Yeah, that just might.