Two contexts
Two years ago, I went on a bit of a failure of a first date. She was really cool, had a fascinating job, was lovely to talk to. But she was freshly out of a serious relationship; we were both recently vaccinated; nobody was ready. This all became apparent in the first five minutes.
Plus, we had met on a dating app, which is perhaps the worst place to have a positive expectation of someone. We are all tired on the apps. We all expect the worst of everyone else there. The word that shows up for me is “jilted.” Another is “cynical.” And so.
That first date happened in May, and I promptly never thought of her again. In June, I met someone else, we went on some dates, and ended up in a relationship for a year. That September, I threw a barbeque over Labor Day weekend, which was meant as the first chance for a lot of my friends to meet my new partner. Thanks to my permanent disengagement from social media and subsequent uneven distribution of important life news, one of my friends thought I was still single and asked if she could bring a friend. I did not know this was done in an attempt to matchmake us.
Of course, her friend was the person I went on that failure date with. Sure, she was told in June about the house, the dog, my cooking skills, my having lots of friends; but one truly has no idea how serious I am until they are in front of all of it, confronted with the fact that yes, my garden really is like that, and the vibes really are that immaculate.
I’ll never forget her entrance. It started similar to many others’, especially in 2021 as the world kept slowly unfolding & reopening. She walked through the breezeway next to my house to get to the garden, and slowed her pace as she marveled at all of the plants & people. Then, things changed. She saw me behind the grill, her jaw hung open, her eyes popped out of her head. She almost dropped the bottle of wine she was carrying; caught it by the neck, held it by pinching the edge, jaw still open. I, not flinching because I had no reason to flinch, yelled HI! OH, I KNOW YOU! And at that precise moment, my partner walked up, put her arm around my waist, and asked “who’s that?”
“We met on Hinge! It was a precipitous failure!,” I said gleefully. And I introduced the two of them, told her beers & Topo Chico were in the cooler, and walked away. Later in the party, I explained everything, told her about the timing of our dates, and said I hoped she was doing ok. It seemed like she had a wonderful time. Of course, I never saw or heard from her again.
I was materially the same person at the barbeque as I was on that date a few months earlier. What mattered was I was playing a home game in every way possible, at the absolute height of my powers, surrounded by dozens of people who love me. Compare this to how I’m received on a dating app, where everyone, again, assumes the absolute worst of you.
It is not enough to know, on a soul level, that you are a good person. It’s barely enough to default to kindness, even though you should obviously do that. If you’re going to create nourishing, generous, charitable connection, you must put yourself in places where people automatically recognize that you have deep magic, and act accordingly. It’s exhausting to have to work to prove yourself, and in a perfect world nobody should have to do it.