I went on a date last night with a guy that I've been flirting with for the past three months. It was my first date in Texas and I was amazed at how nervous I was. Part of the problem is that this guy is my trainer. He has actually taken a tape measure to my waist and told me what percentage of body fat I have. That tends to be a rough transition from that to a casual Saturday night date.
I started training with him almost three months, to the day, after Zac's birth. I had just gotten word from my Doc that I could work out and I got a trainer to help me keep all of my intenstines where they needed to be after my C-section. He and I were friendly with each other and although we kept trying to make plans to hang out, it never happened before now.
As I was getting dressed last night, it occurred to me that it was ridiculous to try and look good for a guy that has seen me at my worst (6:15am, sweating, doing lunges for thirty minutes, swearing, wondering why I actually believed that I needed to "eat for two" during my pregnancy). But, I got dressed and met him a restaurant.
I could go on about the details of the date, but I won't. Right now I'm left with the feeling that I had too much beer, made too many blunt statements and asked too many direct questions(a naturally blunt personality + alcohol = disaster in the making), and generally made a fool of myself. The thing is, I don't think that he's that in to me, which is fine. I'm just so scared that to date again, I have to open myself up and make myself vulnerable. I've spent the past year doing everything that I could to not be vulnerable, to not care for the FOB that abadoned fatherhood, and to learn how to be the primary emotional and physical caregiver for my child.
I've cried a lot in the past year, felt very, very sorry for myself at different points, and even mourned the loss of my independence, but never once have I had to obsess about whether so and so likes me or doesn't like me. I feel like damaged goods. Like no one is going to be able to see beyond my fear of getting hurt, my anxieties about dating, and my need to have someone lead me very tenderly back into a safe relationship. Those ideas seem so unattainable and so far away! He said one point last night that he is a "single Mom magnet". Damnit!! I'm not just a "single mom". That label feels so constrictive and allows people to group all women with children and no partners into a uniform, desperate category. How can I explain to someone that even kissing is a big deal to me, after not kissing for so long? Sex? Hell, that is completely out of the question at this point.
Maybe I'll just sign myself up for sky diving. Instead of fearing life, I'll fear death at 7,000 feet.