“Come to dinner with me and you won’t be seeing anyone else.” I almost dropped my phone. I definitely stopped folding my laundry. I was actively dating, and honestly I wanted a possible way out. I’d told him I was in the “kind of, sort of seeing someone phase.” Which was true. And, exit strategy. Dating 101. Then, the man I’d totally pegged as one of few words, slayed the ask-out.
I can count on one hand the number of men who’ve actually called to ask me out in the last five years. And also the men who’ve actively pursued me. The former, because, adults. The latter, because, me.
It took me 29 years to realize that men really do like the chase. But more than that, I don’t have to make myself available in order to be wanted. In fact, it’s hot to be solid. And solid attracts, fucking solid. Gentleman caller, you want to make my life better: step up.
My minimum used to be interest. If a man was interested in me I was in. I was too terrified that no one else would come around. I felt lucky to be chosen.
It’s only been in the absence of men that I’ve realized the only one choosing is me.
I was talking to my girlfriends the other day and felt incredibly grown-up and contrary in saying “any man who wants to date me is going to have to fight for it.”
“Yeah, Maddie. Duh.”
Ah. Right then. So that is my new bar. That is my new minimum.