If you know me, I’m not a sappy person. I’m a realist; I like to tell it like it is. I would rather someone tell me a difficult truth, and have the guts to say it, than dance around the truth. On the Myer’s Brigg personality preferences, when it comes to being a Feeler or a Thinker, I usually score ZERO points on the feeler questions. But as much as I have this hard shelled exterior that likes to suck it up and move on from shit, I frequently get caught off guard by how I truly feel about a situation.
I went on a random first date with a guy. I wasn’t super excited about it. He turned out to be a really nice guy. We talked for a long time, two plus hours, over drinks and food. From our conversation he seemed like a responsible guy, who has his shit together (for the most part). He made me laugh. We had A LOT in common. Stupid, random things in common. Nothing stellar happened on the date, but it was comfortable, easy, like we had known each other for a long time. I had a really good time getting to know him. He said he wasn’t looking for anything serious. I didn’t want to like him, that wasn’t how it was supposed to go when someone says they aren’t looking for something serious. We ended up going out a couple more times over the next month or so. Maybe part of me thought/hoped that he would change his mind, although I knew that nothing would.
But then last weekend I was decorating for Christmas and watching the Sex and the City Marathon on TV. The very last episode from the series was on, and it was exactly what I needed to hear and see. As cheesy as it sounds, Carrie was right:
I knew as soon as I watched that scene from the episode that I was doing a disservice to myself. Carrie wasn’t afraid to be herself and stand up for what she wanted out of life. I hate the feeling like I’m giving up on something, but I didn’t know what else to do. In the end, it will be okay. I would rather take the risk and put myself out there than wonder what could have been if I wasn’t so afraid.