Monday, March 29, 2010

The First Date *

I did it. I took myself out on an actual date. Planned it out, paid for myself, though I didn't pay for my own drinks as this is one of my new year's resolutions. I actually am calling them my New You's Resolutions. I know it is a bit cheesy but it really is making an impact on my new found freedom. It's funny, I actually made the statement about not buying my own drinks as a joke. Sort of. But I think I knew I was on to something. I don't know what it is; if it is a societal thing or if it is simply a fact of being a woman, but I have spent the last 12 years or so feeling guilty about accepting a drink from a man who is not my husband. Worried that I would be making some sort of false statement or opening a door or misleading in some way by accepting an offer. But I think, maybe that was just ignorance or arrogance on my part. They were only offering a drink not a ring, not a bed. Why would I worry so much? But I digress.

So, my date. I went to hear jazz. A group of my friends, actually. I even got dressed up because I wanted to make a good first impression on myself. I was a little nervous about the whole thing and feeling very exposed. I don't know why exactly; it's not like I'd never gone to see this group before and quite frankly, my husband had never gone with me. Anyway, the strangest thing happened; I had an amazing time. I discovered I love going to little jazz cafe's and hanging with my friends but without the aid or crutch of a man to complete me. Don't get me wrong, I love company but that wasn't what tonight was about. Also amazing, I got hit on. I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, but I don't get hit on. I send out the "don't even bother" vibe, I think. But I am tired of feeling guilty excepting a drink from a stranger or a friend because I'm married. So I wore a nice "you can't take me home, but you can buy me a drink" outfit. A little racey, a little tame. Lots of leg but very little cleavage-to be honest, even on the best of days there is very little cleavage, but you work with what ya got, right? And that is exactly what happened. I got a tequila, which the band sprang for, 'cause for some reason they think it is hilarious that I like tequila, paid for my own dinner (but luckily I am apparently a very cheap date) and then I was walked back to my car by one of the band members. I felt like I had had some great adventure and to be truthful, it wasn't that different from previous times I'd gone to see them. I almost always go alone. I've never gone with my husband, who has no interest in such things. But it was still so different. It was the first time I've ever gone with the intention of having a date with myself; the first time I didn't feel the absence of another person. It was the first time in a very long time I felt like a whole adult woman out for the evening for no other purpose than to please and know and entertain herself. I have to say, highly recommmend it!

The next day, I called myself to thank me for a wonderful evening. Figuratively speaking, of course. I'm having an identity crisis not a breakdown.

1 comment:

  1. I have to admit, this was a post I VERY much needed to read. I've been blogging and sometimes they're bitter and I always try to have some positive message about where my life is headed. And people keep questioning me..."Why do you make your blog public?" And I think some of those reasons are selfish or personal (I guess as long as I know what they are) but, I also tell myself that they might touch someone. Someone might get something from it. So, I wanted to thank you. Because your blog did that for me and this is my first post I've read. And I am inspired to take myself out on my own date. And I haven't done that in a very long time...if ever.