So, I'm writing about it. She gave me permission, no worries.
Two friends of mine recently ended a pretty long term relationship. Along with the troubles that accompany any ended relationship, my friend is also now thinking about re-entering the dating world with a vivacious attitude that only recently single girls really ever have. It's cute, but when I see her going through this, between the stresses of dating and the excitement of being a new, single woman I can't help but feel bad for her.
I really hope John is the one for me at this point, because I really don't know what I would do without him or what I would do if I was suddenly faced with the thought of, ick, dating.
We don't realize it after it's happened...it being...you know...those awkward strings of first meetings when two people are deciding how they feel about one another. (I'm leaving this completely gender neutral, I'm straight, but not narrow, folks) In fact, as I explained to my friend tonight it seems that my generation has tried to eliminate the stress put on the word dating by using the word in a completely different context.
Now, dating has been replaced with hanging out. Hanging out being those first few meeting points where to prospective relationship participants. In the past, the term hanging out took a lot of stress off of being around a boy I was attracted to. It was easy to say I was just hanging out with someone, going for a cup of coffee or a bite to eat, just as I would with a close friend or relative. It didn't bring along too many questions of kissing and hugging and baby making, until, of course, we get to the subject of payment. (To be explained later)
My mother has told me that my hanging out is her generation's dating. That dating was something people did when they were testing the waters of mutual attraction. Courting, to bring it back even further. While my mother's generation went steady my generation dates or is together. We're all just terrified.
Semantics aside, hanging out becomes questionable as soon as wallets, cash and debit cards are pulled out. Early boyfriends never really forked out the cash for any dates, so in December of 2006, the following conversation had with my roommate came as a bit of a shock to me.
Roommate: So, what did you guys do this afternoon?
Clueless me: We had coffee at the Lost Dog, walked around town for a bit in that bookstore and then had dinner at Blue Moon.
Really? Who paid?
Well, we each paid for our own cup of coffee...
Oh, not a date.
What? He bought dinner.
THAT WAS A DATE.
Had I any idea that the mere thought of this poor boy pulling out his wallet to pay for my quesadillas would bring up questions as to my status with or without him, I would have made him put it back immediately. As soon as he signed the receipt for our meal, it was my duty, as a girl, to question his every move towards me thereafter.
Here lies the biggest problem with dating. Thinking.
When it all comes down to it, maybe choosing suitors for your child when they are born isn't too terrible of an idea. I mean, I'm all for the idea of marrying for love and finding someone who completes you, blah blah blah, but had I trusted my parents judgment on my relationships I could have kept myself out of some major issues. Not that they didn't try. My parents mean well, and in the grand scheme of things most of their decisions that they have helped me make have really benefitted me. (Save, of course, when my mom suggested I read 1984 by George Orwell for my sixth grade science fiction project. I was just starting to grasp democracy, and here she is making me read a satire of a totalitarian society...I enjoyed it much more in high school) Their picking of a suitor would have helped with a lot of sleepless nights and hindsight is 20/20 moments. Parents mean well.
Or, I'm just incredibly lazy, and think too much about this. (But, I already saved my ass on saying that earlier)
Either way, dating has either become something way more stressful than it should be or always has been. I still wish all my vivacious single friends all the luck in the world. That scene isn't for me.
Thanks for reading
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