I’ve been single for just over three years.
During that time I’ve dated a couple of people, but there’s never been anything long lasting. And for the most part I’ve been really happy with my singledom. My last break up coincided with a period of massive personal exploration and healing and I spent a very long time focusing entirely on myself.
But for a while I’ve felt that little internal nudge that I’m ready for a serious relationship. It’s like something shifted inside and I realised that not only am I ready to date again but I’m ready to date like I never have before.
I’m ready to put myself out there openly and honestly, and accept the fact that most people I meet might not click with that.
I’m ready to ask for what I want, and cultivate a relationship and dating life which feels better than I’ve ever dared imagine possible.
I’m ready to hold my vision for the partner I want to meet, and not give up after a few ghosted messages or bad dates.
And yet…
When I imagine swiping on dating apps and coming up with opening lines I feel the blood drain from my stomach.
When I imagine going on first dates with men who haven’t quite grasped the concept of personal space I feel my shoulders tighten.
When I remember the heartbreak of my last relationship the softer and more tender parts of myself cry out in fear asking me to turn back.
Dating that feels like self care
I’ve been following the work of Lily Womble, a former matchmaker turned dating coach. The mission statement that lies behind all of her work is to help people to create a “dating life that feels like self care”. I feel so drawn to that message, and while I haven’t signed up to her programme (yet) I have been devouring her podcast and online materials.
As I started contemplating what a dating life that feels like self care would look like to me, almost immediately the loudest voices in my mind yelled back “IT WOULD MEAN NOT DATING AT ALL!”
On the surface, there’s some much truth in this. Self care is about supporting our wellbeing and doing the things that create more ease, lightness and peace in our lives. And at first glance, the messy, unpredictable, often uncomfortable world of dating new people and putting myself out there seemed to be as far from that as I could imagine.
That sinking feeling when someone who was fun to talk to just stops responding, or the feeling of hopelessness I’ve had when five dates in a row just don’t go anywhere, are experiences that I’m not exactly eager to launch myself into again.
If I really want to bring more peace and ease into my life wouldn’t it be easier to just not date at all?
Our intuition speaks in whispers
A little while later, another part of me whispered “But what about the discomfort of not following your desire?”
Years of regular embodiment practice means that the loudest voices in my mind no longer get all of my attention. I’m more attuned to the subtler voices that speak in whispers, sensations and intangible feelings.
Whilst the loudest voices were bringing me evidence of all the parts of dating that were going to make my stomach squirm and my heart sink, there was something else going on beneath the surface. Not dating at all would mean staying in my comfort zone. And that quieter, subtler voice started drawing my attention to all the parts of my comfort zone that weren’t quite so comfortable.
As I explored the idea of not dating at all I noticed how my shoulders slumped in disappointment, knowing that I was closing myself off to opportunities and experiences.
I felt my body slightly contract as my world grew smaller, and I stopped my expansion in its tracks.
I felt a hardness around my heart, confirming that I was choosing protection over connection, and ignoring my longing to soften.
An energy floated around me which felt weary and resigned.
Why hadn’t I noticed all of this before? When I was eager to drop my relationship desires, why had the idea of giving up seemed so appealing?
And then I realised: this discomfort wasn’t smaller than the discomfort I associated with dating, relationships and putting myself out there. It was just more familiar.
I was accustomed to the grooves, and the edges and the sharp points of these jagged and uncomfortable feelings, like the springs in a mattress you’ve been meaning to replace for ages. They weren’t any less irritating, I was just used to them. But now that I felt just how uncomfortable they were, suddenly my comfort zone didn’t feel quite so comfortable anymore.
Your desires matter
How many times have you stopped yourself from making a change in your life because you knew that it would mean opening yourself to uncomfortable feelings? And how much time did you spend identifying the uncomfortable feelings that were already present in your comfort zone?
Applying for a new job means spending time on job applications and interviews, learning new tasks and meeting new people. There’s lots of opportunities for feelings of insecurity, fear and worry to pop up. If your current job is “not great but not terrible” it can be really tempting to stay exactly where you are. And sometimes that is the right choice for you!
But if the niggling feeling to explore what’s out there just won’t go away then it’s worth considering just how easy that ‘comfortable’ job really is. How does your body feel each morning as you set off for the office? What are your energy levels like at the end of the work week? When you think of being there in five years from now what happens in your heart?
A wider perspective
This isn’t about judging yourself for not taking the leap - far from it. It’s about giving yourself the full picture.
Our brains are designed to filter out information that it thinks is unimportant. The invisible gorilla experiment proves that. Most of us assume that our comfort zone is somewhere that we actually feel good, so we never give ourselves the chance to ask whether that is really true.
Realising that not dating exposed me to just as many uncomfortable feelings as dating made it far easier to start putting myself out there, and find real answers to the question of “how can I build a dating life that feels like self care?”
It’s led to choosing date activities that are actually fun (like a comedy night!) rather than going on yet another coffee date. And being more intentional about how I use dating apps, rather than swearing off them altogether.
I still feel nervous before a date, and disappointed when it doesn’t go well - but that’s because I’m a human, having a human experience! The alternative - denying my desire for a relationship - didn’t feel any better, so why not choose the experience that also comes laced with excitement, intrigue and curiosity?
If you’re keen to make a change in your life but you’re worried about stepping out of your comfort zone, I invite you to spend some time exploring how it really feels. I’m willing to bet it’s not as comfy as you thought.
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