10 Things: Dating is over-rated

10 Things I Wish I'd Known When I Was A Teenager

Dating is over-rated
(The heart lies; be skeptical of everything it says)


“This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers.” (1 John 3:16)

“For light I go directly to the Source of light, not to any of the reflections.” (Peace Pilgrim, Mildred Lisette Norman)


Disclaimer: I am, quite possibly, the last person who should be trying to extol this particular granule of wisdom. While I tend to stay single for long periods of time, my attention is constantly occupied with thoughts of romance, either the prospect of or frustrations from. This is one of those times when “do as I say and not as I do” applies because God knows that I’m not the best example of living out this particular truth. In this case – as with many others – I may KNOW of how little importance dating is in the grand scheme of Life but convincing my heart that “true love” isn’t the Be All, End All has proven to be the single most difficult reality to confront. That being said I simply ask you to suspend your disbelief for the next fifteen minutes and allow me to be honest about something with which I continue to struggle in the hopes that, perhaps, you won’t be as thick as I’ve been and will succeed where I have failed.


There are few things in Life that can top the feeling of falling in love (I say this, however, as a twenty-six year-old virgin who’s never traveled outside the United States; infer from that what you may). Fifteen years ago I saw Beauty & the Beast nine times in the theater, memorized the soundtrack and eventually wore out the first VHS copy I had by watching it too much; eight years later I cried during the finale when it was rereleased in IMAX; to this day I still get chills when I hear “Once upon a time, in a far away land, a young prince lived in a shining castle….” To say I’m a romantic would be putting it very lightly; a sappy, naïve, pudding-brained school-girl is probably closer to my mindset.

A decade point five later and I’m still just as obsessed with love as I was at nine. I’ve gone through several break-ups, a near-engagement and one long-term coupling and still have yet to understand why this aspect of Life has me in a headlock. For years I thought my preoccupation was abnormal but I’ve come to find out that it’s not just me. Ninety-nine per cent (at least) of the girls I’ve discussed this with usually chime in with, “Oh, me too!” And the sad things is that ninety-nine per cent of those girls have been, at one point in time, punched in the gut (figuratively, if not literally) by love and still we cling to the belief that it’s worth a GINORMOUS amount of energy, time and passion.


I blame society

“Love ain’t nothing but sex misspelled.” – Harlan Ellison

Watch CW long enough (and by “long enough,” I mean “for thirty-nine seconds”) and someone will wind up pre-coital in bed, the shower or on their bff’s countertop; FX made a hit out of hookers, doctors and superficiality on Nip/Tuck; and Grey’s Anatomy had viewers wetting their pants when Meredith’s ass finally got tapped by Dr. McDreamy behind his wife’s back.

It’s the easiest way to piss off a female these days: dog the values of her favorite show/movie/book/song. I’m no prude, let’s be honest. And I’m not suggesting that boycotting every media stream promoting less-than pristine values is how to take a stand. What I want, though, is to point out that it’s hard, if not impossible, to maintain one set of values when all you’re getting fed are the opposite ones.

Sex sells. I hate that phrase but it’s oh, so, true (I know because it works on me). Throw a tawdry affair or a love triangle into a series and I’m a starving dog all over a piece of raw meat. I justify my affinity by saying that I’m not into it for the sweaty, copulating bodies – and that’s 100% true. What grabs my shoulders is the emotional angst. I’m satisfied if the naughty bits never touch. The idea of two people being soooo “in love” that they can’t stay away from each other does things to my insides and, obviously, I’m not alone in this because it shows up everywhere. My favorite show (right now) is House and the biggest on-going plot regards House’s ex, Stacy, and her disabled husband, Mark. She’s the only woman who ever came close to melting House’s frosty heart and at least twice she’s almost jumped ship to leave the wheelchair-bound Mark for a man who’s so emotionally out of touch he hires a private detective to get dirt on his best friend. Be still my heart!

What kind of standards are we expecting love to live up to when our newest god is an indestructible, filthy rich, diamond-encrusted vampire who composes songs spontaneously for his beloved on the piano, ingests poison to save her life, hangs on her every word and has been saving his rock-hard, tree-climbing body for her alone the last one hundred and seven YEARS? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard girls (or grown women) coo something like “Edward wouldn’t say that” or “Edward wouldn’t do it that way” and every single time I want to kill kittens with toothpicks. Bella Swan, the “heroine” (and I use that term lightly) of the Twilight series spends a good four-fifths of the second book as a worthless, hollow shell of a character (even more so than she normally is) all because Edward alleged he never loved her. She then goes so far as to purposely endanger her life in the hopes of hearing his voice. Ladies, that’s how you know it’s REAL love: when you’re driven to schizophrenia

So, what have I learned about relationships? That the surly, gruff, sarcastic “bad boy” is really just a scared and scarred soul waiting to be loved? Or that I have no need for a life (or a personality) of my own if my high-school boyfriend decides I’m not worth his time any longer?

“That’s RETARDED, Michelle,” you’ll say. “I know the difference between real life and fiction.” And you’ll be absolutely right. Your brain knows the difference – but your heart doesn’t give a fat crap WHAT’S possible if all you’ve been feeding it is a steady diet of fantasy and manipulative writing. You’re also probably aware that a burrito from Chipotle is going to clog your arteries and piss off your intestines, but when was the last time you passed that up for a crisp wedge of iceberg lettuce and a bowl of fruit?

Aside from just being a vampire, Edward Cullen is, in every sense of the word, fictional. Any boy you bring home will either, A) ignore you to play excessive amounts of Halo; B) be more interested in touching your boobies than in discussing your dreams; C) have an unhealthy interest in Jessica Alba; or D) some unholy combination of the three. The guys you meet will be (shocker) human. And just as your humanity causes you to make ridiculously stupid mistakes, Mr. Hollister Jeans From The Food Court is going to let you down too.

We’re all sinners; it’s time you put on your big-girl panties and dealt with that fact. Love isn’t dictated 100% by the heart, no matter what One Tree Hill tells you. We’re given eyes to observe human behavior and brains to analyze it to the best of our ability. You’re smart enough to know eighty per cent of the time whether or not the guy two-fisting beers last night who you gave your number to is worth your energy – and your heart. So much more goes into Love than what they show you in prime time. Attraction, chemistry, fireworks – they’re important, sure, but so are respect, trust, compatibility and loyalty. I can guarantee that getting off isn’t going to satisfy you if he winds up screwing your sister.


Come on; get higher

“God is love.” – 1 John 4:16

Because of how high I’ve placed it on my List of Utmost Importance, love has always been the biggest booster of my self-esteem. On the flip side of that, it’s also the one factor that can bring on a severe depression of suicidal proportions. It’s too easy to convince me that I’m worth less when my heart gets broken by other fallible and confused humans. For as long as I can remember I’ve bought into the idea that to fall in love is the pinnacle of mortal achievement. So every time it fails to live up to that standard I’m left wondering where I fell short.

In my twenty-six years I’ve had six boyfriends and I cared about each of them very much. But for each relationship, there were a million little flaws and several big, ugly ones – on both sides. For each fairy-tale moment of euphoric romance there’s one of proportional size on the other end of the spectrum where I’m sobbing like Chris Crocker and ruining my eye make-up. This is unavoidable and if you’ve somehow dodged this bullet, just be patient – it’ll find you.

“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” – 1 John 4:10

No matter who you are or what you’ve been through, there’s a foundational longing to be loved buried deep. It comes from a depth unreachable and the stain it leaves spreads to every corner. It’s why we pretend to be something we’re not and why it crushes us to find it lacking from our lives. Every stretch for good grades, thighs that don’t touch or a Z3 comes from this one desire and no matter how far we go it’s never quite far enough.

I don’t expect anyone to believe me on this. Hell, I don’t even believe it even when the evidence is pounding my head against the curb. I can say all of this, day after day, year after year and still my heart waits to be proven wrong. I’m still expecting Prince Charming to show up, sweep me off my feet and take me into Happily Ever After. But people aren’t perfect and they’re going to screw up. If I keep searching for whole-hearted satisfaction in romance (or friends or career or money or…), I’m asking for perpetual disappointment.

Rich Mullins wrote in his song, If I Stand, that “there’s a love that is fiercer than the love between friends; more gentle than a mother’s when a baby’s at her side”. This is the kind of Love that isn’t bred from emotion or affection; this is a choice and a conscious decision to put someone else before you. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians, you “humbly consider others greater than your[self]” and that often means taking a lot of undeserved shit.

Real Love is beyond logic. It motivates the kind of action that someone on the outside would balk at for being stupid. This Love is what caused the father to welcome back the prodigal son with open arms and without hesitation. It’s what calls for rape victims to forgive their attackers. It’s why innocent people reach out to convicted felons who may never see outside prison walls again. And it’s what drove Christ to a ministry that ultimately led to death.

Being “in love” requires this Love but the simple truth is that they’re two separate entities. The first is beyond our control and needs two people to experience it. The second, on the other hand, is so independent and so outside the realm of all else that it can exist only by sheer will. It’s not wrapped in conditions; it doesn’t have to meet standards; it isn’t stymied when it’s not reciprocated. It’s there without explanation and in spite of any attempts to deny it. It just IS.

You can’t manage this; I can’t manage it. We’re human and we rely on rationale and logic to guide our days. Because of this damned “humanity,” we can’t really hope to give this brand of Love and we can’t expect to get it from those like ourselves. But I can guarantee you that knowing that won’t stop me from searching for it.

“If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world” – C.S. Lewis

I just need to know where to look.