In honor of Youthquake’s official second anniversary yesterday, it’s a bonus Edition— part II, on the misadventures and perils of dating. Get into it below.
Deciding to entertain the idea of dating and attempting has been interesting. Without attached strings to anyone or agendas, just a sliver of hopeful optimism and perhaps enough naiveté to navigate the complexity of dating once again. It’s truly wild out here with plenty of fascinating humans: some nice— but we know how that stale adage goes about nice guys— some shy, and others boring as dirt. Chemistry and compatibility are essential in dating for me. If you can’t carry a conversation— as someone who loves words and uses them probably too frequently, that’s as far as we’d ever go. Nevertheless, it’s been a trip with some fun, distracting sightseeing bits. However, let me tell you something— it’s exhaustingly hard out here.
Where is the desire and longing for romance or even to flirt? That Jesse and Celine buildup (where are you now that we need you, Richard Linklater? I digress) or that Wong Kar-wai level of yearning in dating? Maybe movies and literature have warped my mind, but how else would I know that such potent and enthralling potentials of love can not only exist but occur? Surely not the adults in my life.
Not yet ready to face this realization when first attempting to date back in October as a well-documented ambivert that leans mostly toward being an introvert— it’s been tiresome even attempting to connect with humans— have I mentioned I don’t care much for people? As Charlie Brown told my beloved Snoopy, it’s too peopley out there. Not that I was expecting every person to fall in love with me or be seduced by the undeniable snarky charm that finally found me again; it’s just been more of the same. Men who reach out to me in their thirties with hidden aggression, an inability to converse, and lowkey or downright hate toward women then ghost when confronted. It’s almost surreal that some men stop at nothing to punish or antagonize women due to being hurt or disrespected in the past. Everyone has pain— still, unpacking and releasing baggage is a solo trip everyone should take now and then. Otherwise, that baggage becomes an inconvenient carry-on that’ll always be a part of you.
Knowing what I desire and no longer putting up with time-wasting aloofness or mixed signals as I may embrace being brutally soft, I’m still cautious and sharp-edged. So, I don’t want to keep myself entangled in constantly deciphering something complicatedly messy— is this what growing up and emotionally maturing is? I’ll never be someone who vies to compete for another person akin to my Diosa María Félix, who stated, fight for a man— why? There are too many!
I also refuse to throw myself at someone, and I won’t be wrecking any homes, nor have I ever. Do I think I’ve been lied to about someone not being as single as they lead on— huh, what a concept! People lie, especially emotionally immature men in relationships, which is no surprise.
Still, as a child of parents with complicated histories, I’ve never knowingly involved myself in such behavior— I vowed to my stubborn and headstrong teenage self that I’d never allow myself to be in that position. This is why I loathe that people seem to think I want to be a third or plus in their equation— I’m still trying to solve my own. Whether physically or emotionally, I don’t want any polyamory situations, as open relationships have never been for me.
While I don’t believe in holding back in a friendship simply because a person is in a relationship, boundaries and partners deserve respect— emotional cheating is still cheating. Seeing this severe devastation firsthand, it’s never tolerated. I’m not someone’s distraction and no one’s rebound. I’m a priority who yearns for more than what I’ve been observing or offered— it’s not only hard out here but also terrifying. Dating has never been my priority, but my boundaries and level of expectation of what’s deserving are.
I’m decidedly remaining single by choice for another year as I’ve been really into my self-discovering odyssey in life thus far. The exception would be that it would take someone rather incredible to blow me away for me to even consider dating them— as I’m just vulnerable enough to admit that I’m not too proud to say I yearn and crave romance that pairs with love and dare I say— I want to be courted. Although marriage has never been an achievement I strive for, I’m not against finding a partnership. Perhaps my dating cynic has finally been silent by my hidden Jane Austen-loving inner romantic, but I crave more than modern dating gives me currently. As the late great Toni Morrison wrote in Jazz, don’t ever think I fell for you or fell over you. I didn’t fall in love. I rose in it. That’s the blossoming, balanced level of love that anyone can hope for (if you’re open to it), and anything less than that shouldn’t be our business.
With playlists being a great love of mine, I’ve collected some favorites that touch on that thrilling sensation of desire and yearning as I’m publicly posting this once-private digital mixtape. Enjoy! 💌
For Apple Music, HERE.
Spotify is linked below.
As a continual bonus, I created an accompanying film list for that experience of yearning and desire. Along with its multitudes of romantic yearning and heartache. Those rich, exquisitely emotional experiences that cinema conveys— even if it burns too passionately for a happy ending, such is life.
Vertigo (1958)
Elvira Madigan (1967)
A Room With a View (1985)
Out of Sight (1998)
Talk to Her (2002)
In the Mood for Love (2000)
The Before Trilogy (1995-20013)
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)
Take This Waltz (2011)
Anna Karenina (2012)
Atonement (2009)
The Fountain (2006)
Blue Valentine (2010)
Once (2007)
Raw (2016)
Despite hating dating, it’s a specific thrill that I nostalgically miss— seeing a potentially special person’s name who can captivate my attention like no one else— and it lights up my phone as it lights up my face. Admittedly, it’s been so long since I’ve last had a crush— I’m well overdue for a deserving one. Again, it’s that specific internal rushing sensations from the menagerie of fluttering butterfly wings that tend to make my stomach flip in every which way that I miss— which have occurred by two people, a crush on a previous co-worker named Sam that didn’t go anywhere (mostly due to my incapability to speak more than two sentences around him— also, he had a girlfriend). The last was [REDACTED], and stayed with me even still. Despite things not working out, life moves on slowly and messily along, so it’s refreshing not to stress about something that will find me regardless. This is what being a romantic and watching too many romcoms and romantic dramas does to a girl.
Con Amor
Naomi x