ExMas -- Tales of Exes Past
My first dating experience started with a crush on a girl named Tish. I told my then best friend, Alan, who then asked her out behind my back, that very same night. When I confronted him about it, he told her what happened. She offered me a sympathy date. We had one awkward date. It was too weird and too late. Alan and her dated after that, for a week.
Then I liked a girl named Baijanti. She liked me back. We had a very physical relationship. I can't pinpoint why it didn't work out. Maybe it was a mix of us thinking we're not good for each other, incompatable, or wanting to explore other options, rumors spreading around about our sexual activity. She was my first girlfriend though. She always will be.
I continued to hook up with girls, some I didn’t even like, desperate for validation and self esteem. At one point, at 16, I was a virgin making out with two blondes on a cruise. They asked for a threeway. I turned it down. I didn’t regret it then. Later, I did. Virginity is a social construct. That story might have raised my self esteem more than regret.
I had a fling with a psychotic girl, obsessed with me, which I long paid for. She would always want to satisfy me, with food and other things. It felt like being a prized bull. After a few months, she regretted it. Who’d have guessed? [/s] The lesson here: Affirmative consent isn’t enough when dealing with a psycho. Crazy people are never worth it.
At 17, I dated Bailey, proper girlfriend #2. Bailey was a friend of friend. It was the only time in my life I dated a friend of a friend. She was cute, Jewish and a real… idiot. I was cute, Jewish, and… immature. She wanted someone to marry. I wanted someone to take cute photos with. She cheated on me with two guys. When she told, I was at a Dr’s appt. I fainted. Good timing. It was the only time I ever fainted.
I backpacked Europe at 18 - no hookups. No dating.
My freshman year, also no hookups. Lots of bad dates.
I blamed it on low self esteem. It was luck. I wasn’t ready.
Sophomore year, I had a fling with a drug addicted, professional cheerleader. She taught me how to please women, which truly was invaluable. Her looks boosted my confidence. We were both loaded with trauma. Codependent, but for a moment, we were there for each other. That seemed like the most important thing. Back then.
Then the dating apps started. Tinder was released exclusively for iPhone owners. It was a fun time. Between the app and underage drinking, I had several lame hookups I’d rather not reflect on. Then I met PVD while leading a meeting. My jaw dropped at this a-mazing, colorful, fun, 5'11, fit, blonde with the squishiest body. PVD was amazing. But I met gf #3 while casually dating PVD. So I broke it off with a more intelligent and successful sweetheart to pursue a neurotic psychology major with identical interests to mine.
Coming off peak confidence, a healthy relationship with a beautiful woman and a social life that most wouldn’t believe was possible, I met a love of my life. She led a neuroscience club. I couldn’t imagine anything sexier. I remember thinking, “Don’t sleep with her too quick. This is the one.” After a few weeks, we started dating. I should have noticed that she had dropped her then boyfriend to be with me. I didn’t. Afterall, I had dropped a FWB to be with her.
Often people breakup for the same reasons, over and over, never growing. [She’s people.]
She wasn't as into me as I was into her. That was a pattern I was too used to. It was a pattern that brought my confidence down. If you have low self esteem, try to not date people who make it worse.
Here’s my unhealthy pattern:
I fall hard for someone
I go for it.
They seem hesitant. They try anyways.
I imagine they grow feelings for me because of their kindness and my sex appeal. They even tell me how much they’re falling for me, in person and written messages.
I ignore that their feelings relate to being treated well, not for me.
They destroy me.
Let’s call this ex-girlfriend #3 Anne. Anne cheated on me. That didn’t stop me from loving her. Ann moved. That didn’t stop me from following her. I had another year of college, filled with confusion over #3. There’s feelings that just never leave, no matter how much you wish they did. Who can deny a feeling?
The rest of my senior year was the stereotypical f- boy flings, all while thinking about Anne. Flingers can be a confidence boost. It’s nice to be on the other side of unreciprecated feelings, so long as the other person isn’t crazy.
One notable story from fling period was Ann #2. Ann #2 was a girl who biked over to my house for sex, 6 or 8 times in a month, then later regretted it. Why? Cause one night, in a drunk stupor, I ran into her and called her “Ann #2.”
There are so many other stories, I’ve gotten to forget most. I remember failing to tell my feelings to a long-time crush, the only one who might have gotten me over Ann. We had a fantasy date, right before I graduated, and instead of confessing I let her go. Moments later, around 3am, a friend-a literal professional model and a married woman—was standing on my porch, asking to come in. Not a complete lost. But these are just fun stories I vaguely remember.
After graduating, I did go back to Anne 2. We lived for two years together in one state, three months in another, then tried long distance. When she came to visit me, I greeted her with flowers and a plan to see a group of our friends. But I knew from her face it was over. Later, I learned she had cheated on me, and worse. (I can’t say what’s worse out of respect.) As hard as it was the first time she cheated on me, this time was harder. I didn’t faint like with gf #1. I lingered onto cherished memories for years. Fainting would have been quicker and less painful. Anne will never know the emotional pain she’s caused me, and I can guess, others. That always made me wonder how much pain I caused.
You might be wondering how I was cheated on twice, if you never were.
Cheating is rare. I’d wager it was related to my immaturity. I rubbernecked, was not accustomed to gift giving, and worst of all for young professionals, did not have a stable income. You can be jobless in your teens, or if you find a rich partner, but you need ambition in your 20s. All these vices add up to lack of trust.
I never cheated. But, boy, reader, was I accused of it. Here’s two signs someone is a cheater: 1. They abruptly leave someone to be with you (people repeat actions) 2. They accuse you of cheating (they’re projecting their own intentions). Here’s not a sign of cheating: They confide that someone hot is hot.
I’m digressing.
I dated a Vietnamese girl for a few months. She was later diagnosed with bipolar issues, despite only ever being sweet to me. We were not compatible. I had a fling with Pam, another beautiful, very tall, funny, wealthy, extroverted, woke feminist, who’s parents were so rich she had a movie theater and fridge for international craft beers in her home. But even she, alongside many other amazing woman, came during a period I was still in love with Anne, who had long moved past me. Pam broke it off with me on my birthday. I don’t blame her.
I moved to Israel. I studied and had a childlike crush on a classmate. She downplayed a relationship with her “friend” and let me take her out on two dates. She was engaged within six months of our dates. Come to think of it, most of the girls mentioned above are now married. I’m not.
In my first years in Israel, I averaged a few dates a week. I enjoy dating more than most. Dating is what you make of it. It’s not always an interview. For me, it’s like hanging out with a new friend. Just don’t add pretenses of wanting X, Y, or Z, especially if X is a hookup, Y is a ring and Z is happily ever after. Be easy. Think: wine at a park, a walk to grab pizza, rounds of pinball. Whatever you enjoy. The point is to be fun and comforting.
Men, remember we live in a sexual-assault ridden world. Many need a safety check from a friend and an evacuation plan just to go out on a date. By your late 20s, finding dates through classes and hobbies becomes rare. If you miss finding your someone(s) during school, become a regular somewhere.
I don’t know if soulmates are real, but I do know meet cutes are not.
Dating is not like sitcoms. At least for me. I attended hundreds, maybe even a thousand, concerts. I’ve never once picked up someone at a concert, music festival or rave. I go to the gym. I never picked someone up there either. During school, I met dates at extracurriculars and volunteer opps. After that, only networking events, the beach, bars and other places that hardly scream my interests, and mostly online. Let’s say 90% of my post-24 dates came from Tinder.
My worst dates involved driving mismatches home with thoughts of, “How did I get here? Maybe I’m what Phoebe from Friends would call a simp.” One girl left me alone at a club after our initial hour-long chat, put two drinks on my tab, then, at the end of the night, asked for a ride home. One girl drooled profusely mid-sentence and never acknowledged it. I saw the drool hit the table. No, “Excuse me.” She just kept talking. I had one date who kept talking about her nephew. After hours, I realized her nephew wasn’t her nephew. She was trying to hide that she had a son, using “nephew” as a sly replacement. One made a plan online with me to go out. Instead, I arrived and we just watched TV with a gay couple, who surely wondered why I didn’t leave as soon as I saw she looked nothing like her pics IRL. One date asked if I wanted wine. I said, “No. I’m driving.” She bought wine anyways. Check came. “How should we split it?” “I’m happy to get the food. I think you should get your wine.” After a death stare deadlier than Cyclops, I paid, knowing I’d never see her again. I never saw her again.
And I love to laugh at those experiences, horrible as they may seem.
Most dates were fun, even without chemistry (chemical bonds?). I had one date who argued with me about politics right away. We were both left leaning, but she was much further left and wanted everyone to know it. I told her I’d get the bill and she could leave whenever. She left without even finishing her first drink. I laughed and enjoyed my night. A table besides congratulated me, hearing the gesture more men should make on bad dates. I had one date who asked to eat my discarded, fried shrimp tails. I didn’t mind. I thought it was bizarre, but oddly cute. I’ve had massages on dates with woman I barely remember. I have been asked to lock arms and hands way too early for my comfort. I’ve partied with dates, and stayed friends with people from those parties, even though we don’t remember the date’s name. I was once serenaded by a large group of strangers, who must have sensed the first date energy. I once had a date with a long term friend, where we kept high fiving each other during sexy time. I had a guy named Jenkins give me a wad of cash to take my date out, because we were cute and broke. I’ve found money on the floor on dates. I’ve wound up playing bongos at 5am on a Vegas rooftop with a guy dressed as the devil, wondering, “Did my date leave? Oh well! This is awesome!” I hope I’ll always remember those experiences.
Every once in a while there was a match. We dated for four months, then broke up. Not enough attraction, ambition, differing life goals, and a long list of unverbalized reasons that prompted the “If it’s not a hell yes, it’s a no” rule. These are the sorts of relationships I feel too used to. They’re dating purgatory. I can name a few, “It’s not me, it’s you!”: Kendell, who yoyo’d in weight so much people didn’t recognize her the 3rd time meeting her. Sharon, who felt a relationship would stifle finding a direction in life. Carla, who only wanted something physical at her convenience. Vanessa, who worried I would move back to US someday, and decided she wouldn’t ever want to come with. Fatima, who felt conflicted as a Muslim dating not just any Jew, but me, the Jewiest of Jews!
Like the song Mambo #5, the list of names in my life keeps going. But I hope the song ends soon.
They say you can date 6 people, and if you're not settled down by the 6th, you never will be. May as well have fun then.
ALL NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO NAMES I NEVER DATED.
EXCEPT JENKINS. THAT REALLY WAS SOME GUY’S NAME.
