A couple of my friends have taken it upon themselves to set me up with every single guy they know. I appreciate it…I guess. No, I appreciate the thought. But you have to understand that right now dating for me is like going shopping with my mom: show me the shirt (single guy) and I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it (him.)
There’s actually a lot of overlap between shopping and dating. Think about it- the reasons you don’t buy a pair of pants are the same reasons you ditch a dude. Too tight. Too baggy. Not scuffed up enough. TOO scuffed up. Too sparkly. Looks too young. Definitely too old. Threadbare.
Yep, that last one disqualifies both gentlemen and any type of clothing. I am not interested in dating or wearing anything that looks….airbrushed.
So throw all of those choices on someone who knows exactly what she wants and therefore tends to be pretty selective but who also doesn’t have a freaking clue what she wants because she has really had her heart stomped on in the past which then has made her selective to the point of snobbery. AND THEN…BECAUSE IT’S APPARENTLY NOT COMPLICATED ENOUGH…AND BECAUSE SHE CAN DEFINITELY HANDLE YET ANOTHER THING ON HER PLATE…
Mix in a chronic illness, you know, just for shits and giggles.
Which makes a snobby selective cautious girl a REALLY FREAKING PARANOID snobby selective discriminating girl. I discriminate against Ed Hardy. And ‘chewy’ hair. And guys who I don’t feel I can ‘trust’ with RA. Although, admittedly I screen most of them out before it even gets that far. You know, the guys who are not scuffed up enough or too scuffed up.
So now imagine you’re shopping with your mom and you have all these choices for jeans but all you want is a simple pair of jeans THAT FITS but even if you find that perfect basic pair, you may still wake up one morning WITHOUT your jeans but instead with a tattoo. And not just any tattoo but a Chinese character tattoo that you think means “peace” but actually means “taco” because let’s face it, you don’t know Chinese so someone could totally play that trick on you. And now you have “taco” on you for the rest of your life.
And that, folks, is what dating with a chronic illness feels like for me.
Also known as why I’m still single so please stop setting me up with these admittedly nice guys that I will forever have to avoid until I tell you I want to be, please and thank you.