While dating might be a pain in the butt, most people wouldn’t describe it as being “scary.” But for me, it definitely is. I’ve been single AF for what seems like an eternity now, and I’m beginning to realize that it’s because these things make dating downright terrifying for me:
- I hate wasting my time. It might seem like a shallow reason to hate dating, but it’s true: I can’t stand spending a ton of time getting to know someone only to see later on that it was all for nothing. I know it’s unrealistic to expect to know if a guy will work out from the beginning, but I just wish there was an alternative to wasting my youth dating men who end up not being worth a second of my time, let alone months of it.
- Even the biggest jerks seem decent at the beginning. I’d feel a lot more at-ease about the whole dating process if douchebags were straight-up about their douchebaggery from the start. The problem, though, is that they often put their best foot forward when they’re trying to impress someone. It’s not until later that they let their jerk flag fly, and by that point, I’m already invested enough that it hurts when things fall apart.
- First dates are the worst. I loathe awkward situations, and first dates are basically breeding grounds for discomfort. Even if I’ve talked to the guy for a while before actually going out on a date with him, I still feel like I end up scrambling for things to discuss. I’d rather avoid them altogether, but since you can’t have a second date without a first date, I have to make the choice between suffering through it or not dating at all.
- I’m so bad at getting to know people. Particularly when I have a crush, all my social skills go out the window. I’m the worst at asking the right questions and responding the right way, so whenever I try to get to know a guy, it usually blows up in my face.
- I’ve heard too many horror stories. An alarming number of my friends have gone on one date with a guy, only to end up having to get a restraining order against him when he got way too attached way too fast. Not every dating story ends with gaining a legitimate stalker, but there are plenty that end with men who are only slightly less insane making life a living nightmare for the women who chose to date them. And I know that the more I date, the more likely it is that I’ll come across one of these dudes.
- I’m terrified of being vulnerable. The walls I’ve put up are there for a reason, and I’m not so eager to let anyone tear them down. I end up getting hurt every time I let someone in, but if I don’t, then I know I’ll be building a shallow, untrusting relationship. I know I have to be vulnerable at some point, but the idea of taking that step is enough to make me want to be single forever.
- There’s too much pressure. Whenever I date, I feel like everything I do is put under a microscope. What if he doesn’t like the way I laugh? Do my movie preferences match up with his? Is it too forward or not forward enough to tell him that I like his smile? I’m a very “go with the flow” kind of person, so having to deal with all the pressure of dating is the exact opposite of what I consider to be fun.
- The “what ifs” are endless. I try not to be a downer, but the number of things that could go wrong in the dating process is nearly endless. He might be a serial cheater. Maybe we’ll fall in love, but then his job will take him across the country. Perhaps every guy I meet will hate my guts. The chances for success are there, but they’re a lot slimmer than the chances for disaster and heartache.
- I’m often blinded by optimism. I’m a pessimist before I jump into the dating pool, but once I’ve found someone I like, I feel like he can do no wrong. The result is that I end up ignoring a lot of his “mistakes” by focusing on whatever good qualities he may have, and sure enough, I end up getting hurt in the end. It’s my own fault, but the worst part is I can’t stop it from happening.
- I never make the right choice. I feel like I’m a walking stereotype: I always pick the jerks instead of the genuinely decent men. But it’s not like I try to make bad choices. I really do try to pick the men I think will treat me right and make me happy, but no matter what I do, I always make the wrong decision. My failure rate is so ridiculously high that sometimes I wonder if I’d be happier turning into a crazy cat lady instead of searching for my soulmate.
