• 

“I just don’t feel the spark. You didn’t do anything wrong, I find you attractive and fun, but I just didn’t feel anything more serious.”

I laid in bed for a few minutes after this conversation. Truth be told, I didn’t feel any emotions from this because I’ve heard this kind of resolution before. I started to feel pissed off until I realized that I was boring.

I don’t know what part of that thought sent me into a huge HOLY SHIT moment, but I got up, made my bed immediately (obviously), and started looking for my ipad keyboard so I could frantically type this process out.

For as open as I am normally, in the dating world I have made myself into the human equivalent of a track suit: annoyingly “put together” and predictably bland.

For some reason I always think it’s other people’s jobs to get to know me. To ask me about my quirks and make room for my weirdness to come out. I often get (got?) frustrated with people who didn’t ask me about myself or REALLY try to get to know me. Guys that like me, like me BECAUSE I’M NICE AND BORING AND UNTHREATENING.

I know so many awesome and charming boring people. People often choose to show boring versions of themselves as a protection (raises hand) or as a way to be accepted by a wider gap of people. We all want to be loved. We all want to be accepted by lots of people to validate that we are capable of being loved. But the whole thing about being stereotypically charming is that it only happens by way of being a chameleon. That girl or guy that everyone seems to love so much, but you’ve never really heard them share a strong opinion or a weird nugget about themselves.

Boring: getting along with everyone. Being fluid with your opinions. Becoming a blank canvas to make other people more comfortable. Letting other people define what box you belong in and just going along with it.

One guy I was casual with called me a “work stiff” once. I bent my best friend’s ear about that a few nights after because I was so put-off by it. That was an asshole thing to say, but he had a point? All I showed this person was: “I’m nice (insert a humble shrug)?.” “Worked this ______ full-time job.” “I’m here to get to know YOU.”

Gah I think if I met myself in the dating world, I would be bored too.

I’m a fucking interesting person! (I can prove it methodically to the point where you will give up and just let me win because I’m stubborn and you’re tired of listening to me.)

As a paralegal I often talk to crazy people on the phone and customer service the fuck out of them. As a performer I spend too much time letting weirdos linger and tell me stories I honestly don’t care about. As a woman I dull myself and make myself agreeable because we are taught that we are more valuable that way. But I’m taking these same skills and creating a boring person that people like to watch and talk at because I have now built a big, boring, brown building in front of you (yawn).

One of my exes that came back to me a year after we broke up shared some pretty cool thoughts about when he realized he missed me. See, in our relationship we had (he had) this joke about how ridiculous I was for thinking shows like Friends and How I Met Your Mother were funny. He rolled his eyes as much as possible at me when I tried to explain scenes, laughing with each phrase.

“I was sitting and How I Met Your Mother was on. I don’t remember what episode it was, though I know you would, but I laughed at something a character did and I immediately thought ‘goddamnit’ and then missed you.”

People like your stupid, weird, annoying, broken, and frustrating characteristics; even the ones they ignored often come rushing back because they are so small and particular.

So…who’s the interesting version of myself? Some of you have seen it. I love dancing, even awkwardly to make myself or someone else laugh. I have a whole language of noises that I use for different moments, whether I’m alone or in an awkwardly quiet room. I’m painfully open and honest. I will tell you how I’m feeling whether you want to hear it or not. I expect a lot from people, but only because I give a lot myself. I have very strong, negative feelings about salads. An attorney I work with says I’m a 12-year-old on the inside and that’s very accurate. I love nonfiction books about nutrition or psychology. I licked my salt lamp when I first took it out of the wrapping on my birthday. I could sit and listen to people’s life stories for the rest of my life, free of charge. I couldn’t give less shits about what someone does for a living because people are more interesting than their jobs.

I overthink. I have a constant, tugging war between my creative side and my intellectual side. I’m good at mirroring other people’s emotions when I feel threatened by a fear of abandonment. I burn bridges with my anger when it rears its ugly head. I read people in a snap and I hate it. I make my bed as soon as I wake up every single day (that ex knew to do it still when we briefly hooked up again). I have mental health issues that cause me to be conflicting in action but never in emotion. I scrutinize the world around me even though I’m imperfect.

If you don’t like it, I don’t care. Welcome to 2020 baby.

To the guys I’ve dated who thought I was boring: fuck you, you’re wrong and you missed out. But also thank you and I’m sorry for wasting your time being a blockhead.