It has been literally YEARS since I have gone out on a real actual date, you know involving doing something with someone other than having a random guy (or girl) try getting laid. So tonight I went out on a date with a guy I met on the internet (Yikes) but I checked with a friend and turns out they knew of him and said he was okay. So I went to the doctor, wound up in the hospital for most of the day (which usually happens on my dates), he was patient enough to wait for me to get out, and we met for our date.
FINALLY a real date!!! We had a (mutual vegetarian) dinner, conversation, laughter, common interests and non common interests, I tried to explain my health problems in English to someone who doesn’t speak English as a second language let alone first…Then we went and looked at lighting fixtures. YAAAAAAAAAAAAY. Seriously this is my idea of the ideal date.
I have a boundary rule of no physical contact on a first date. For someone with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, boundary is always an issue that many people in the rest of the world don’t understand. But he accidentally touched my back when I made a joke while on an unsuccessful search for glue in the store (but we found awesome 3,000 dollar vanities!!!!), and that wasn’t bad for me. I didn’t have a meltdown! It was warm, inviting, friendly; not “I can’t wait to get you home and fuck you.” like it usually is. It also wasn’t interpreted in my brain and neurological patterns as “serial killer: beat the crap out of him and save yourself!” either which is always great. The latter is a difficult to explain reaction which generally involves the police or getting thrown out of somewhere…
After that I drove him back to his car, which was another big plus for me that he was comfortable letting me drive after we met for dinner. And it was that shy, blushing, high school moment where you don’t know what to do at the end. You’re both shy, both inexperienced (well…maybe not exactly), both nervous as hell. I go to do my usual walk him to his car and hug and quickly run away without falling on my ass like a Sex in the City episode but he actually kissed me. Not the American tongue down the throat kiss, but a polite, kiss on the lips. And that was awkward and everything but I handled it because it wasn’t an invasion of my boundary because it was polite and we were both mutually happy about it and nervous like giddy school girls and boys usually are.
It was awkward kissing someone with the same last name, only spelled in Dutch rather than Flemish, but I feel so much better about myself now not feeling like a fish out of water like I have all the years: weird name, weird looks, weird sense of humor, etc. I live with a bunch of hillbillies in Northern Wisconsin, they kill animals, eat animals, like lawn mower racing, and have straight boring hair. While I raced a lot of things and rebuild a motor like my neighbors, I look different and dress different and look at things different. Not better, just different. Everyone’s always avoided me because I’m weird and I never fit in unless I go to a city or some drug infested loserville.
I don’t know why this guy chose to live in America, but I think I have something I must learn from him. I even tried to be bashful, I never pointed out how much European jeans fit in all the right places. ;) And today I learned how to practice safe boundaries with people while compromising if the situation doesn’t turn out to your liking. Date rape and sexual assault are VERY common (1 out of 3 women has experienced some form of domestic/dating violence) and I think it’s important that women make firm boundaries with their dates right away. Like meeting in a public place, drive separate cars, etc. At least until one knows the type of person they’re dating and dealing with. In the long run, the guy is going to respect you more too, if he’s that horny then he’s going to cheat or get into prostitutes, nobody needs someone like that around. Not to mention disease, gross.