When she got home from her pleasure filled evening, she went upstairs to nap as she had barely slept the night before. When she woke up later that day, she opened her dating app to creep Steve’s profile and relive her amazing night, only to find… he un-matched with her.
They hadn’t exchanged numbers. And now, after what she thought was a fun and satisfying night for both of them, it appeared that she had been ghosted. Her heart sank and her stomach tied in knots. Her mind raced with a million different questions; Why?? Why did he un-match? What did she do? What didn’t she do? What was wrong with her??
She was sure it had something to do with her “gross, disgusting body”. “Fuck all the weight loss,” she thought. She told herself that her stomach was still fat and saggy in some places and so obviously she was too disgusting for anyone to want to be with. Obviously she wasn’t good enough for him – for anyone. She was still stupid and naïve and gross and undesirable. All these negative thoughts filled her brain as she just sat on her bed thinking. Worrying. Spiraling dangerously close to the dark place she had resided in her mind not so long ago. It’s honestly mind blowing how quickly one can regress when faced with a situation like this, regardless of any growth or healing they’ve done.
She hadn’t felt that low in some time, so she tried to stay positive. She tried to remind herself that her value is not based on what someone else thinks of her. She was worthy of love, kindness, affection and respect, regardless of what her body looked like. However, the sting of rejection was hot and piercing.
She went downstairs and ate another pot brownie. Once she was stoned, she lay on her bed with her earbuds in, listening to her favourite indie/pop music to get herself back into a more positive headspace. It worked for that moment and she was able to carry on the rest of the day, somewhat, as if nothing had happened. But even that Monday, she still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of her insecurities and low self worth. She went all day hating herself, but not wanting to burden anyone with her negative, whiny, self-hating thoughts. She wished she still had a therapist to turn to, but since she didn’t, she just kept it all in.
By early Monday evening, however, she couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t keep her feelings bottled up in her head any longer or she was going to explode. She texted her two friends in their group chat and, thank the universe and the stars above, her friends let her vent all her self-deprecating ramblings to them. No judgement, just some listening ears and sound advice.
She unloaded her seemingly unending neuroses on them, and they told her that maybe he just wasn’t ready for all that? He was in the middle of a divorce, after all. Who knows what he was feeling? He had told her that she was his first since his ex-wife, so maybe her friends were right and he just wasn’t ready for anything with anyone at that moment. Some guys do have feelings too, right??
One of her friends dropped this nugget of knowledge on her and said, “Hating your body isn’t going to make a shitty guy be more in to you. They’ll be shitty anyway, at some point.” Which is so incredibly true. Her hating herself wouldn’t change the fact that this guy un-matched with her. All it would do is make it more difficult for her to let herself meet someone else.
Her other friend chimed in saying, “I know that you think it’s physical, but to the right guy, those little things won’t matter.” That friend had also consulted her husband about this situation, and she found it insightful to get the male’s perspective. Her friend’s husband said that if it were him, and he had brought some random woman back to his house, the place where he spends time with his children, so shortly after a separation, that he would feel like a huge slime ball. He confirmed what her friend had said, that likely it was all just too overwhelming for him. And that might also explain why he never tried to have sex with her.
All of that could very well be true. And it did comfort her to think that his rejection of her might not have had anything to do with her at all. At the same time, however, it infuriated her that he would have just cut all ties like that. “Grow up!” she thought. This guy was fucking 40 years old, two kids, a job, a house… Grow some fucking balls and tell her straight up, “I had a nice time with you but unfortunately I realized that I’m just not ready to jump back in to dating right now.” How hard would that have been??
Still, she felt much better after talking to her friends. She hated dumping all her emotional shit on them (that’s what this blog is for 😉), but she was going crazy just thinking about it and keeping it bottled up. Once she let it out and was able to receive such sound advice from two people who know her better than most, she was able to take a nice deep breath and let it go.
She was happy to have had the experience itself, because it really was incredible. But now, it just was what it was. It’s not like she wanted anything more serious with this divorced father of two. So really, what was she holding on to? The rejection of it all? No thanks. Better to appreciate the pleasurable parts of her evening and let go of the rest. Hopefully she’d have better luck on her date the following weekend.
She messaged Fragile Masculinity Guy that Wednesday and told him which day she was free that weekend. She knew she wouldn’t get a reply until later in the week, so when she still hadn’t heard from him by Friday, she wasn’t surprised. But then she never heard from him Saturday either. Not great for the ego, especially after the overwhelming rejection from being ghosted by Steve. So, she rolled up a fatty and threw a frozen pizza in the oven.
“Fuck online dating!” she thought to herself as she went out to smoke her joint. She opened Tinder as she puffed away. Old habits die hard, apparently…