My #HER Story

Few weeks ago, I went on a date with a girl that I met on #HER, a new dating app for women. I wasn’t very keen on trying one more time online dating after my past failures (just read any of my previous post such as Two online dates in one night or my post about the dark side of online dating). But, this 2017 I was feeling overly optimistic, just as a Canadian on a summer day. I guess that after reading the book “Raising Strong” from Brené Brown I was mentally ready for a new challenge

The quote from the book that made go back to online dating again and make the effort of meeting up with a stranger instead of binge watching another Netflix series comfortably from my sofa was:

  

“Vulnerability is not winning or losing, its having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control of the outcome”

I can do this! I thought to myself when I read it. I can have the courage to show up and be seen!

Since I love a good “self-motivational” quote from any TEDTalk guru, a few days later, there I was, at the White Rabbit (the pub where I take most of my dates), grabbing a drink with a complete stranger, hoping that the universe would aligned and love would magically emerge...

And it sort of did… I confess that I haven’t had a date as good as that one in a very long time… She was funny, cultivated, pretty and, she seemed to be very caring with her friends and family judging from the stories that she narrated me during our date. What else can I ask for in a woman?

At the end of the date, just when we were about to say goodbye, she kissed me briefly on the lips.

WOW! I wasn’t expecting that!  

That kiss just move our date up to the top of my mental “first dates chart”.

Before we walk away in separate paths I asked her if she wanted to meet up with me again. However, we didn’t have to make any formal arrangements for a second encounter as, it turned out that we both had tickets to the same event: the #HER party that was happening in two days! As a result, we agreed to “informally” meet up there.

Two days later, I was on my way to the party. I confess that it took me a lot of mental effort to get ready and make my way there as I was going on my own because none of my queer friends were available that night. However, I decided to embrace my newly courageous mind-set and “show up and be seen” even when I had “no control of the outcome”.  

I didn’t know for sure if she, my date, was going to come or not, or if she maybe had plans already with a different date... But I was hoping that, after living (and dating) in Brighton for almost 7 years, at least I would bump into a few acquaintances so I could maybe share a drink with some fellow queer women.

Picture taken at the HER party in Brighton. 4th of February 2017.

When I arrived, the party was half full and getting crowded by the minute. Everyone seem to be in a group, dancing, chatting, drinking… but I was on my own, feeling very small and vulnerable.

I made my way to the bar, ordered a beer and looked around. I saw happy faces, chatting, dancing, drinking… everyone had company but I was alone, paralyzed and unable to start up a conversation.

At that moment, I decided that I had two options, whether to keep feeling powerless and scared throughout the rest of the night or take the evening as an opportunity to meet up new people, enjoy myself and relax. I confess that the beer helped me to choose the later option.

As I was going around the room in circles, pretending that I was looking for my imaginary friends and ignoring my inner fears, I bumped into an acquaintance. My “almost-friend” was a team member of the Brighton Rockers and so, she introduced me to the derby team and I mingled with them. They turned out to be very fun and so, I spend most of my evening chatting, drinking and dancing with them. Nevertheless, there were no signs of my date from two days ago...

A couple of hours later, I saw her entering in the club. It would have been impossible to miss her as she was very tall, 6ft of a woman to be precise. For a “petite” girl like me that needs to jump up frantically to be able to reach the top kitchen cupboard, she was a bit of a giant… but a very nice and attractive one.

I approached her soon after I saw her. We chatted for a bit, but she seemed to be very keen on going back to her friends so, I let her go...

Maybe she is not that into me... I thought. However, she kept on checking me out from the distance every now and then…

LOVE GANGSTERS - Street Art found on the North Lanes in Brighton. Picture taken in February 2017.

I was a bit confused…. Does she like me or does she not? Why did she kiss me two days ago but is ignoring me now? Why does she keep on looking at me if she totally blew me off when I approached her? I don’t understand...

I decided to shut my inner monologue up and just have a good time with my new roller derby friends. I ignored the fact that my date, the one that positively surprised me with a kiss two days ago, was evading me… but the night wasn’t over yet and there were a lot of surprises and a plot twists yet to come…

To be continued...

The Cinderella Test 2: My second attempt to find out if my crush is my perfect princess match in casual conversation

Winter in a small town as a single lesbian can get boring, so in a ludicrous attempt to fulfil my lack of current romance, I decided to embrace a silly mission: finding out the shoe size of an attractive acquaintance.

I guess that my little adventure was unconsciously driven by my need to find evidence in the real world that confirmed my inner fear that “fairy tales are lies” and that “romance is dead”. I knew that sharing the shame shoe size with an available attractive fellow lesbian was statistically unlikely. Applying magical childish rules to the real world is crazy, but as Marilyn Monroe once said: “It's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring”. So I proudly embraced my wacky side.

My attempt number 1 of my undercover princess operation to acquire information on feet size from a pretty girl failed miserably (read my previous post: The Cinderella Test), so I knew that I needed some previous planning before my next attempt, but...

How can I make a plan to find out if my crush shares my shoe size and so, if she is my perfect magic princess match in casual conversation?

Street Art found in Brighton. Picture taken on December 2016.

I started to brainstorm conversation topics in my mind that could involve shoes and, after some thinking, I decided that I needed to come up with a list of “sports and/or activities that might require special shoes” such as:

Roller derby or skating, ice-skating, sky or snowboarding, bowling, bouldering, ballet, tap dancing, flamenco, traditional northern folk dancing that might require uncomfortable shoes, wine pressing…

Ok, those last ones were a bit of a stretch, but who knows what she might be up to… after all, she is just an acquaintance and I have no idea what her hobbies or interests might be.

Now that I had my list of possible conversation topics that involve the use of special shoes, I just needed the perfect situation.

One Wednesday evening when I was commuting from work, I spotted her on the train. However, after our last uncomfortable encounter, I needed to make sure that our next meeting looked natural and unplanned so she wouldn’t think that I was a crazy-stalker (which, in a way, I probably was). So, I decided not to run immediately towards her and ambushed her on the spot with my list of conversational topics that might involve “the use of special shoes”. I patiently stayed in my seat without lifting my eyes from my phone. However, in my head, I started to re-run again the list of activities and planned some possible directions for an informal chat that could lead to the discussion of those leisure activities.

My master plan was to force a “natural meeting” at the station and have a short chat there. With some luck, we could even perhaps end up walking together on the way out.

“We are now approaching Brighton, our final destination” They announced over the loudspeakers.

My heart started pounding as the time to talk to her was getting close… That wasn’t a good sign. I knew that I needed to learn how to manage my emotions better so I would not end up messing it up again. There is a reason why I’m single: because I don’t know how to talk to attractive girls. But I need to keep trying, so “YOU BETTER BEHAVE!” I said internally to my pretty-girls-conversational-anxiety.

I left the train as soon as the doors opened so, I could get ahead of her first only to delay my pace once I would reach the turnstiles. Perhaps pretending that I can't find my ticket, which was in my right pocket as usual, could do the trick. And so my plan worked:

“Hey, are you all right?” She informally said to me when she saw me.

“Hey… how are you?” I replied hiding my excitement and pretending that I had not seen her before on the train.

“Good, I had a long day at work, but it seems to be over now” She said smiling.

Why is she so pretty and nice? And… why are no words coming out of my mouth???

After a couple of seconds pretending that I was looking for my ticket and that I finally found it by surprise I answered:

“Yeah, work is over, but I still need to go…”

In a micro-second I started to run in my mind all of the possible endings of that sentence so I could perhaps introduce the topic of sports that might need special shoes:

... skating? I don’t have skates!
... ice-skating? There isn’t any ice-ring nearby!
... skiing? There are no hills or snow in Brighton… keep thinking…
... bowling? I have only done it twice in my life and I suck at it…
... bouldering, I’ve never tried it before…
... ballet, flamenco tap dancing, folk dancing?… It doesn’t really fit my personality… and I have two left feet…
... wine pressing… really?

“… I’m going to yoga” I finally said.

To be fair that was actually the truth. I can’t lie very well and, under pressure, I get as honest and straightforward as if an Easter-European gangster with a Russian accent points a gun to my forehead.

Street Art found in Brighton. Picture taken on December 2016.

“Cool, I do yoga too” She answered as she was advancing fast on her way out of the station.

Quick say something to keep on chatting… I haven’t even used any of my planned conversational prompts yet and she is leaving!

“You do? I really like yoga because… I love being bare feet” I said while I was discretely chasing her through the crowd that was also leaving the station at the same time in a human current.

WHAT??? That’s the silliest reason to like yoga that I’ve ever heard!

“I love that about yoga too!” She said turning her head around.

“Listen, I need to run, it was nice to see you” She added and touched my arm before rushing her way out of the station.

“It was nice to see you too…” I shouted from the distance a bit disappointed.

So, my second attempt to find out the shoe size of an attractive stranger failed again…

Should I keep on trying or should I give up?

To be continued...

The Cinderella test

She ticks all of the boxes for being the girl of my dreams but she still has to pass the Cinderella test.

As a girl who likes shoes, it has always been my dream to find a girlfriend who shares my size so I would double the number of available pairs for me to wear in my wardrobe. Also, wearing someone’s shoes is an intimate experience, not only at a hygiene level (as your foot is sweating directly into the same space that another foot has sweated before), but it also has such powerful symbolic implications that for me, it might be the ultimate expression of true love. My dream girl would not only have to share my hobbies, interests and, have a similar vision of the world, but she would also need to share my shoe size. For her to be my Cinderella she needs to fit into my shoes and I need to fit into hers.

But how could I find out her shoe size without making myself look like a crazy person?

Given the fact that she is only an acquaintance and completely unaware of my emerging feelings towards her, asking her directly about her shoe size might be a bit awkward. Perhaps I should stop fantasizing about strangers in the first place, but I feel that I need some romance in my life, even if it is only in my mind and probably not even reciprocated. I want to have someone that occupies my thoughts this winter and she seems to be the perfect candidate… but I need to find out her shoe size first before I appoint her as the supreme princess of my own fantasy world.

Street Art found in Brighton. Picture taken in December 2016

“Nice shoes…” I said to her when we crossed paths.
  
"Want a fuck?” my inner voice echoed remembering a silly joke from a "pretending to be funny" and "useful as a conversation started" t-shirt that a guy was wearing the other day at a bar.

“Thanks, I got them on sale from a place in town last week” She replied smiling.

“Cool… what is your size?... I mean… not that I want to wear your shoes or anything… I mean… do you think that they might have them in my size?... I mean… I will probably not buy the same shoes as you… that will be weird, right?… Do they have them in a different colour?” My morning spray deodorant was not enough for the amount of sweat that my body was producing… I wish that the earth would crack and swallow me right now, but unfortunately, I had to face her puzzled gaze.

“I’m not sure… you could definitely go to the shop and look around” She said and discretely stepped away from me.

“I got to go… I’m late for this thing” She added.

“Sure, nice to see you” I replied with my head up high but my soul wringing inside.

…and there it goes my attempt number 1 of finding out her show size! I don’t think that it could get any weirder than that now… 

I put back on my giant headphones and kept on walking… There was only one song that could cheer me up after my completely socially awkward moment. So, I scrolled down my playlists in desperate need to find some musical comfort. As I heard the first notes of the piano melody I immediately started to feel better. Only my favourite Disney princess Elsa singing “Let it go” could relieve my emotional pain.

Lonely shoe found at Brighton Beach (2014).

Maybe I should seriously start thinking about growing up… I thought to myself while I started to plan my attempt number 2 of finding out her shoe size.

To be continued…

A final taste of heaven...

After meeting up with the girl of my dreams one Friday night but screwing up my chances with her not once, but twice in a row in a very comical and socially awkward way (read previous posts to catch up with the story: Chatting up in the queue of the toilets, Chatting up from the distance and, How to ruin a second chance with a girl: a narrated guide), I had little expectations about getting a third chance with dreadlocks girl. I was ready to accept that “what starts off with the wrong foot will most likely end in a stumble” so I decided to move on and carry on with my life.

Nevertheless, despite the many online dates and the few other flirtations around, I was not able to find any girl that matched dreadlocks girl. She was not only the type of person that I would want as a partner, a humble and caring social worker, but she was physically perfect in my eyes. Just a note to my readers, she was perhaps not objectively incredibly attractive, a few of my friends commented that they did not think that she was pretty, but beauty is subjective and to me, she was a goddess. She had the kind of face that I could stare at for an eternity and a strange halo that appeared around her figure every time I looked at her. In my quest to find love around the city, I could not seem to find anyone that replicated that effect on me.

Perhaps we just want to have what we can’t, and my platonic obsession with dreadlocks girl was only a reflection of my self-sabotaging mind. When it comes to love, being unhappy was my comfort zone. All of my past attempts at romantic relationships took place in the suffering area where rejection, non-reciprocation and disappointment were my best friends. My brain probably kept feeding into the idea that dreadlocks girl was perfect just because I could not have her and I was very aware of that paradox.

In any case, during the next two years of my life, I saw her a few times in clubs and bars around the scene. Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to approach her and beg for a third chance as she always seemed to be in the company of the same girl (and judging by the way that they interacted I figured that they were a “long term-thing”). Nevertheless, we never stopped greeting each other every time we crossed paths and we even hold short conversations in the bathroom and club queues (for a change) a few times.

Girls 4 Pride. Street Art found in Brighton. Picture taken in August 2016.

But one night, just after I decided to move back to my beloved Brighton I got a third chance to make amends with her.

It was about 3 a.m. and I was leaving the club on my own after a very emotional farewell when I heard someone calling me from the smoking area:

“Hey Cassanova… !!!” Dreadlocks girl said trying to grab my attention as I was walking by with my head down trying to leave the club unnoticed.

“Hey! Where are you going???” She insisted. I was not in the mood for a chat with her that night after having such an emotional and wonderful night with my friends, but I finally turned around.

“I’m going home!” I said sharply and continued walking avoiding any type of eye contact with her so she would not notice my watery eyes.

“Are you OK?” She asked putting down her cigarette and stepping outside the smoking area following my steps.

“Yeah…. I’m just… I’m moving away next week for work and I’m not sure now that I’ve made the right decision  and…” I started to reply but stopped as soon as I noticed that my voice got emotional and I felt a tear running down my cheek.

“Hey, do you want to talk about it?” She said while passing her arm around me in a very comforting way. I was unsure of why she would even care in the first place, but her warm gesture and trustworthy gaze made me stay and ventilate all of my emotions right there outside the club.

I told her about my dilemma between pursuing my dream career (doing a PhD and becoming an academic) or staying in the city and working in an unbearable marketing job but being surrounded by my amazing friends and family. She was very understanding. Perhaps due to her professional training as a social worker and her undergraduate degree in psychology, she was able to offer me some interesting perspectives about my life-changing decision. She told me that she had to make that same choice once and that she went for achieving her dreams (in her case it was to help the world by becoming an awesome, very caring and, ultimately a very cool social worker). She said that my friends and family would always be there for me, but that my chances of doing what I wanted were likely to come only once.

“If you miss your train now, you might never get a second ticket…” She said while holding her hand on my shoulder.

“That’s very true… I missed my chances with you and I never got to another one” I replied.

WHAT? Did those words just come out of my mouth? 

I guess that as I was leaving for good the week after, I had nothing to lose and my brain just decided to start shooting out the truth.

“Yeah… you messed up a bit back then…” She replied smiling. It was still incomprehensible to me why she was taking her time in the first place to console me after all of my screws up. Her kindness made her even more desirable to me.

“Can I kiss you?” I suddenly said.

WHAT???? I am going nuts???? Did I just ask her permission for a kiss??? Well... at least I’m not a kiss attacker like the conservative-right-wing chick that ruined my second chance with her I guess…

Street Art piece found in Brighton. Picture taken in August 2016.

 An intense and long silence followed my words.

I interpreted her non-responsiveness and intense gaze as a positive sign so, I prepared myself to kiss her.

“I….” She started to reply as I was launching myself towards her lips.

I kissed her and she kissed me back. It was a perfect kiss, not too long, not too shot, and just about the right amount of tongue and emotional investment. I got to a taste of heaven for about a minute or so.

I looked at her deeply again and smiled.

“I… I got a girlfriend” She dubiously said and looked away.

“That’s all right… I’m moving away for good next week anyway… I assumed a while ago that we were not going to happen but I just wanted to kiss you before leaving…” I said very confidently. I was amazed at my brave behaviour and calm response. I guess that the few gin & tonics that I consumed that night might have helped.

She stared at me for a minute in silence not really knowing what to say next. I could see in her eyes that she might have felt something special after that kiss and that perhaps, she was now wondering about what we could have been, just as I did every time that I bumped into her over the past two years. 

At that moment, I saw a cab approaching in the distance and jumped towards the road.

“I… I’m going to take that cab… If I miss the chance to get a ride now, I might not get another one…” I said winking my eye and rushing to make a sign for the driver to stop.

I knew that finding an available taxi in that neighbourhood at that particular time was rare. So, I decided to put in place dreadlocks girl’s own recommendation about taking the opportunities when they were in front of me. I needed to look forward to the future now so I jumped into the cab with my head high and waved goodbye.

Dreadlocks girl did not turn out to be “my one”, but at least I got a taste of heaven and I will keep that moment in my memory forever.

The End.

PS: Despite the surrealism of the story, this is a true story and it happened as it has been narrated!