It occurs to me now that one of the fears that has always stymied me in dating was the contradictory fear that I would find someone great. I suppose I’ve had many experiences with not feeling anything for a guy who was interested in me, and somehow that awkwardness coalesced into an unarticulated sense of me with all my imperfections being vaguely ridiculous as I strived to come into a grand, glorious love with someone who seemed like a prince. And I think I have carried that awkward anticipation of being revealed as a crushingly average, somewhat attractive, sometimes annoying woman as I’ve gone into dating experiences.
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But here is the kibosh on that argument. I know who I am. With all my imperfections, I am still sweet, soft, and very pretty. I am smart but kind. I can by hysterical but still be feminine. I stand straight and strong and carry myself like a lady. So many of the paradoxes about myself that have alternately frustrated and pleased me would strike a man as enchanting.
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Now, one of those contradictions in myself is that I have felt awkward in my imperfections while still feeling apprehensive at the prospect of being found attractive and desirable by the men I date who didn’t inspire the same interest – a prospect that is far more realistic and likely than that of being found wanting. I know I have a lot on the ball. And yet the apprehension is there at the prospect of seeing the interest in a man’s eyes. I can’t find clearer words to explain this conundrum. This is the best I can do. Perhaps it is just that the right man hasn’t shown me that interest.
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All I can say is that this muddle has been what has twisted my stomach into knots whenever I’ve faced a date. But the thing is that I’m different now I know who I am and – never true before – I know what I want and I fearlessly claim it.
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And what I want is easy dating. Only to attract men who are easy to date until I sail right into the One. I want a pervasive, unrelenting sense of understanding on my dates, a repetitive thought of, “I get it now. I get how to date.” This is what I want as I get what I truly want.
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I picture being on a date with the One – only the end result is what I will invest my attention in – and just feeling totally relaxed. Like the me that is sitting there, in all her imperfections, all her odds and ends and ins and outs, has fallen effortlessly into place. Like this is the most comfortable chair I would ever find because it is where I discovered how it felt to fall into place. That is what I want. I say it again fiercely. That is what I want. I declare it again, my mind shouting out into the ether: That is what I want. I want to come home. I want to be at the end of my journey and feel that joy and relief that it’s over and I am home at last in the warmth emanating from a man’s eyes. And I want to feel it on my first date with him. I don’t want to end a single date with the One not feeling that sense of rightness yet. I want it as soon as I meet him. Others may scoff at that, saying it is an unreasonable expectation, but my heart and mind and body is so aligned with my true love’s that I boldly declare it is possible. It is what I want. It is my experience. All the bad is behind me. All the bad feelings are only a dusty memory. Only good things are in store now. Only good things are coming to me. I will feel only good feelings. I will only be happy. He is coming to me now. Every day, every hour is one day, one hour closer he comes. He is mine. I claim him.
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