Putting It Out There

In the last two days I have asked two guys out and let another know I was single.

One guy gave me no response, which is a response, which means no.

The other guy said seeing somebody.

The last guy?

Well.

I don’t know.

He asked me out two years ago.

Right after I had gotten involved with my ex.

God damn.

Two years.

It’s been a minute since I’ve been on the dating scene and I feel like I have no idea how to do it.

A friend asked me about a month ago if I had gone out since my ex and nope.

Actually, he said, “have you got your pussy wet since __________?”

HOLY CRAP.

I yelped and smacked his arm.

Then he said, “give me your phone, there’s got to be someone on here who wants to have sex with you.”

OMG.

I just about died.

Then he did something rather cute, he sent a picture of me to a guy who I acqueised would yes, likely have sex with me, since, well, we’d had a sexual relationship.  It had never developed into a dating relationship, but we’d had fun and hooked up a couple times.

My fried sent the photo and a very cute little message and bingo!

Immediate response.

And then he said, “now do it again, next guy.”

It was not a come on message, it was cute, a picture, a how are you, a flirtatiousness.

I wasn’t asking for sex from the second gentleman, but let me tell you, I was thinking about it, since I have had a crush on him forever.

Literally.

Ever since I met him over twelve years ago.

The second gentlemen surprised me with his response, which was that I looked radiant.

Oh.

The first guy?

Meh.

He told me “I’m in an ethical, non-monogamous, kinky, open relationship.”

I told him I was in the Outer Richmond.

Heh.

I knew he wasn’t a dating me kind of man, but perhaps what my friend was saying was hey, get out there, get laid, get over your ex, move on.

So.

I made date with first guy.

Who, in his fashion, ghosted me, and then I remembered, oh, motherfucker, he’d done this once before which was the reason I hadn’t really pursued dating him.

So back to the second guy.

I liked “radiant” as a response.

That felt really good.

So we made a date.

Or so I thought.

It was the date, not date.

Ugh.

He turns out to be in a relationship and us connecting was just old friends getting together to catch up.

Fuck.

I mean.

It was great to see him, but I had aspirations damn it.

I can feel it like the urgency of electricity needing to be grounded.

I need to be kissed.

I need to hold a man’s hand in public.

I need to really be out there dating in the light of day.

I have been in a cave of sorts and I need out.

So.

Yesterday I sent a message via Instagram to a man I have known casually for years, obviously not close enough that we have each other’s phone numbers, but I see him now and again and there’s always a touch of a spark.

But nada.

And then this morning I was like, fuck it, reach out to ______________.

Who was excited to hear from me and then I made it quite explicit, I’m asking you out on a date.

And.

Nada.

He’s in a relationship, but said let’s still go dancing.

Maybe.

But want to dance with a man who wants to be with me.

Romantically.

And I think I just upped my game a tiny bit more.

I FB messaged a guy who asked me out two years ago and since I don’t want to play games on FB I just popped his number into my phone and sent a text message.

I want to argue my limitations without having the experience of connecting with him and I sense that gets me into trouble.

He’s an East Bay boy and I have argued my way from reaching out since, like, um the bridge is a major obstacle.

But you know what else is a major fucking obstacle?

Dating unavailable men!

So no more of that shit.

And fuck timing.

And fuck not being good enough.

Have you seen me recently?

I am kicking major fucking ass, I look good, I’m working on a PhD, I’ve got a burgeoning private practice therapy business, I live by myself (that’s a big deal in San Francisco since the rents are ridiculous everyone has room mates), I have a car.

I am the bomb.

Fuck.

And I’m busy.

I won’t lie, it’s not like I get to socialize a whole lot, but I have to be putting it out there, I have to take some actions.

I don’t know what will stick.

But I sense something will.

And I will allow myself to be vulnerable enough to date a man who is actually available to be dating.

Because I am so worth it.

I really am.

And now.

It’s time to let myself let go of what happens next.

I put it out there and what ever comes back is not up to me.

But.

I will keep putting it out there.

It’s time.

It really is my time.

I can feel it.

He’s just over there, all I have to do is shift my perspective.

He’s is there.

And I’m available.

Simultaneously*

Too much.

And not enough.

I am too flamboyant.

And I am not kinky enough.

Now if you know me, and a few of you do, you know that though the latter is not true, and so too is the former.

Yet.

I am critical of myself.

I am not enough.

And I am too much.

There is no middle ground, there is no one who is going to put up with this and there is not enough for me.

I am too much to handle.

But not enough heat in the kitchen.

I mean, really, I could go on in this vein for some time and not get myself anywhere but perhaps in a head ache state of mind.

I had a really good talk and a great check in tonight and I was informed I am more than enough and I am perfectly, imperfectly, my sexiest self.

Let me remind myself that I really am in the best place in my life.

I am honest and open and communicative, I am learning where I can be more of that, mostly through not with holding my honest response.

I can be manipulative and a bit of a people pleaser.

Which is never in anyone’s best interest.

Oh.

God.

I love me some house music.

Sorry, just got totally swept up in the beat on my stereo, I’m even typing in rhythm.

Haha.

This lady needs to go out dancing.

I’m this close to getting tickets to Basement Jaxx at Public Works with David Harness opening, next Saturday, the 14th.

I don’t suspect that I will have a Valentine’s date that night and I could really use a shake it out on the dance floor evening.

Fuck, I’ll even get dressed up for it, sexy for myself.

That’s where I have gone back to, again, and again as the process of the break up spools it way out.

Be sexy for me.

Dress for me.

Dance for me.

“You are magnificent,” a friend commented to me recently after expounding on my sexuality and expressions thereof.

Thanks man, I needed to hear that.

I believe it, I do, even when the doubts try to crowd into my head.

I have had such a habit of hiding my light under a bushel that when I do let it shine I tend to be rather overpowering.

I am finding a balance, a fabulous one, I am fabulous, I am, and I won’t argue that limitation.

I love clothes.

I love makeup.

I love dressing up.

I wish I did it a little bit more.

I’m not the greatest at shopping, but I am getting better.

All these things running around in my head and really, they do me no good up there.

What actions can I take?

That’s where I need to go, my thoughts are not my person, my person is made of my actions.

And I know I can take action.

Yesterday my actions were really simple, sit still, don’t respond, hold on tight to your chair and keep your counsel.

Not reaching out was the action.

Acceptance, awareness, action.

Or lack thereof.

Sometimes its hurry up and wait.

I am so glad I did.

I still had some moments of sadness and a couple of moments of hot-headed anger, but for the most part I rode them out.

I kept my side of the street clean.

Squeaky motherfucking clean.

Bitches.

I was thinking tonight as I wheeled through the park on my way home, what actions do I take next?

Get out there and date it up lady.

That’s the answer I got.

Now the question to myself is do I get back on the interwebs and do the OkStupid again?

Or do I just look within the fellowship and communities I am a part of?

The key is not to think too much about it, but to take action.

If I get back into online dating, cool, open the account back up and post and see what happens.

And I also realized after I turned down the inquiry last night about hanging out at the cafe and going to fellowship, that yes, damn it, I have to do that too.

I turned down two invitations this week to do just that and I realized after both that I don’t have to go crazy with it, if I have been invited to dinner and have already eaten, I can still go.

I just don’t eat.

Have a cup of tea.

If it’s a late night go out on a school night for me.

I can still go.

I just stay for a half hour instead of rolling for two hours.

I can squeeze it in.

Besides if I’m not out there, I’m not out there.

I also have to look up and out and not navel gaze.

Who is looking?

Take my blinders off, really pay attention, there are people, guys looking, and they are not always the skeezy pants ones that I notice, there are guys out there, decent, smart, cute guys, I know it, who see me.

But maybe I am too busy being in my head.

So look up, I admonish myself, look out.

See what there is.

I’m not banging my head on the closed-door.

I am walking through to the open door.

And it may be that the hallway is shorter than I think, I just have to walk the walk.

Not talk the talk.

Willingness without action is fantasy.

A girl can fantasize about Mister Right, or Right Now as the case may be, but if I don’t accept and acknowledge to myself that I am Ms. Right and a damn fine one at that, Mister Right is going to walk right by when I am focusing on what I think I don’t have.

I am so grateful for this dating experience with my ex, in case you were wondering, he’s a great guy and I hope the very best for him, he’s just not the guy for me.

And I wasn’t the girl for him.

But I am for someone and I know it.

So I get to act like it.

Embrace it.

Be it.

I am my own.

Fuck Yeah Girl.

 

 

*This blog officially written evening of 2/5/2015, pesky internet went down last night.  There will be another blog to follow today.  Thanks for your patience!*