The Comfort Zone Zone Zone

(A follow up to Tinder - Where the Wild Things Are)

I am guilty of hating the SF dating game... But I am ashamed that I don't step out my comfort zone.

We all love our comfort zone, it's that warm, pilled blanket you've had longer than most friends. Our comfort zone is exactly what it sounds like, comfortable. As women we tend to shy away from the uncomfortable. A well lit street, a pair of ugly flats, and the side of the conference room, these are all more appealing than the unknown. Granted I will always choose a well lit street than a dark alley, but you get my point. Safety. And after running the dating rat race, where you realize that guy that dumped you while on Bart did it to muffle your reaction by the public and the noise of the tunnels, and that other guy who only calls you on the weekend is always drunk to give himself the 'confidence' to accept your possible rejection, you realize, or I realize that I'm playing it safe. I'm dating guys that just don't know what they want, and I know that. Weird as it sounds, that's comfortable. I know what to expect from this. We meet and he's charming, and I'm charming, and while I don't feel drawn to him like the burning desire of literary lust, I see that we're comfortable together. And there's the catch. It's already played out for us.

We fall into identical patterns. Coffee, drinks, music, bump uglies, meet friends, dinner, get busy at work, delay responses, drift apart, text feelings, separate... Repeat. It's like the delicate cycle on the washer, and I know it by heart.

So this week, I decided to step outside my comfort zone. I decided to take this dating bull by the horns and ride him like he wants be ridden, hard and fast and with no shame. ... And this was the result...

Saturday night, some extended family were throwing a party at their home outside the city. Most of me wanted to stay home with my blanket and pretend to be sick, but I fought the urge and hopped the bus. Upon arrival, my cousin told me that one of his buddies from a biking group was going to join us, and I thought, with so much self pity, "Great, everyone has a person here but me, I will again be the table filler, always in that last solo empty seat." Immediately upon thinking that ridiculously shameful thought, I hitched up my big girl pants and walked to get some wine. While making some surprisingly entertaining conversation with our growing party, I heard the front door open, and turned to see a tall man decked out in biking spandex walk into the house. "Holy shit, that hot." Just having the balls to wear that to a party you know no one at, made my own confidence spike. I think my eyes might have also dialated, very noticibly. He smiled, and I smiled. Neither of us was very comfortable in this situation and after having changed, to my dismay, we spent the next several hours talking about ridiculous things and shamelessly flirting.

This whole experience was unexpected for me and while I normally frown on dating friends of family members, I realized I was in my week of stepping out of my comfort zone, and this was completely innocent and did not make me feel guilty at all. It was like a sugar free brownie. The one hitch that unfolded at the end of the day was that, while we enjoyed each other's company, we were surrounded by my family. All goodbyes were public. And, as the seconds ticked by, painfully slow, waiting for his turn to leave, I racked my brain on how to grab a second alone with him. Realizing that he had to get his bike, I smiled at the thought that I could walk him out. And right as I opened my mouth to speak, my uncle walked forward and grabbed his shoulder, "how about I walk you out son?" Ahhh! I'd let my chance slip by. My confidence shattered, I smiled meekly at my new friend, and walked back to get another glass of wine.

Days ticked by as I waited expectantly to hear from him. He would get my number from my cousin, right? That didn't take much effort. Or he would at least friend me on fb, right? Right? Thinking that maybe he was shy, and I was still trying to be less comfortable, I found him on fb and friended him. He accepted within minutes, and I thought, ok, I can do this no-comfort thing. It's not so hard... So I wrote up an honest message, saying that I had a great time blah blah blah, want to grab drinks sometime, and pushed send.

Refresh, refresh, refresh. And hours turned to days, with no response. My comfort zone flooded back into me, as I pushed away the feelings of rejection. I'd tested the bounds of my ability, and I'd been rejected. Rejected with silence. I spent the next week thinking distasteful thoughts about myself, blaming and making excuses for his lack of response. I fell back into the pattern of self blame.

As I battled within, I walked the streets on sf. And when I turned a corner to make my way home, I looked out over the bay at the sunset and my self blame melted away. I realized that while I may never know the reason he didn't respond, it didn't matter. I tested myself, and I did something I never did, asked a guy out. The result was inconsequential to the fact that I had the ability to be outside my comfort zone and absolutely love it. And as I watched the sun set, I counted that as a win.

with honest reflection,

the guilty raccoon

#theguiltyraccoon #relationships