I’m really over dating. Not just slightly deterred or a little pessimistic but totally, resolutely out.
Earlier this year an Ex from two and a half years ago knocked on my door. No pre-warning text message. Actually turned up on my doorstep live and in person. He’d driven forty miles, sat for twenty minutes in his car stressing about what would happen when I answered (and whether I even still lived there), all to apologise for how he went about breaking up with me and see whether I’d take the plunge on a second attempt.
I would definitely not. But to be fair, I had to admire the effort.
I couldn’t chat, as I was waiting for a male friend to come over and cook dinner. This one I’d dated but not entered official ‘relationship’ territory as I’d ended things because he wasn’t in a position emotionally or mentally to date. But we had really liked one another as people, he was respectful and never crossed a boundary, and hey, it’s hard to meet new single friends in your 30s, so we continued the friendship. Purely platonic, a friend with chef benefits.
“When are you free?”
On this same weekend, a guy I went on a couple of dates with two years ago and didn’t work out but we had continued with the traditional FWB benefits sporadically over the years for some mutual sexual relief, starts up the usual process of engaging in conversation pre, “When are you free?”
This all happened as another Ex decided to track me down spontaneously in a number of ways, including hunting down one of my sisters and asking her to contact me, six months after he had broken up with me, declaring that he’d made an awful mistake, he loved me, I’m a wonderful human being, but turns out, still not one he still a serious relationship with.
Confused? Me too
But this is has been my dating life, and that’s just the past few years of it. If the Ex from my teenage years who has occasionally reared his head every so often threw a message over that weekend, my head might have exploded.
So here I am, reviewing how on earth I’ve ended up in this situation of Exes who track me down when I’ve blocked contact to declare they are sorry and love me but don’t want a relationship … still. Exes who two plus years down the line actually knock on my literal front door to re-ignite the past. Male friendships with varying benefits, and yet no actual relationship in sight.
For the first time in my life, I’m really over dating
Not just slightly deterred, a little pessimistic but still a tiny bit hopeful. Totally, resolutely out. And I’ve been out for about six months now. Partly, because I think I might be creating the problem. I’m choosing the wrong people to date, that’s for sure. I sometimes allow these people access when they shouldn’t have any. But I also don’t think anyone dating knows what they want right now other than companionship that has no title and won’t necessarily lead anywhere.
The plus side, is that I’ve reached a point where the relationship I have with myself is far more satisfying and wholesome than any I’ve so far experienced with anyone else.
And the best thing about dating myself? Less drama
I do wonder whether I’m out because it’s genuinely better dating myself, or whether it’s just too exhausting dealing with dating anyone else. I think it’s a bit of both. But until dating other people becomes less dramatically confusing. I’ll stick with myself, thanks.
Amy Roullier
Amy Roullier is a British writer and author of Silent Reflections of a Fragile Heart. For her, writing began as personal therapy and has evolved into a way to connect with others, posing questions and offering reflections that might help readers find clarity. Based in Lincolnshire, Amy is an occasional vegetarian and a dedicated lover of carbs—her true soulmate. She’s currently navigating a mid-life crisis through running, and mornings are simply impossible without coffee.
