Forgetting Love, Part Deux

I've been thinking about writing this post for a while, and it may get interesting, depending on just how personal I get. But after my last post, where I admitted to being dateless for over 15 years (and this is more than dateless, this is never being asked out, never having any interest shown toward me as a woman), I've been wondering where the responsibility lies in that. As in how much of it is the way I look, how much the way I act, how much just happenstance?

If you spend any time around me, you know I frequently comment on my weight. Typically in a joking manner. For a long time, I used to attribute my apparent unattractiveness to the opposite sex to my looks. (I still do, to some extent.) But I eventually discovered that guys had even MORE reason to be uninterested in moi. As Joy Nash rants, "'That guy would never ask me out; I'm fat.' As if that was the only thing that could possibly be wrong with me! . . . I've got this great, big automatic excuse. I never have to work on any other aspect of my personality. The only thing that anyone could possibly have a problem with is the fact that I'm fat."

OK, so beyond my weight there is: unreliability, neediness, selfishness, laziness . . . the list goes on. (Trust me, I've made it several times.) Beyond lack of being physically attractive, there's a deep, prevailing conviction that I'm not mate material anyway. So this should be a no-brainer, right? It's obvious that being single is the best thing for me. Phew! I'm so glad logic can spare my heart.

Rrrright.

On the flip side of all this is the fear. There are several things that contribute to my weight. Poor diet. Lack of exercise. Yes, that's a given. But there are things you don't know. Did you ever wonder how I started down this path? Do you ever wonder why it's so hard to change when I know what needs to be done? Did it ever occur to you that maybe I have reasons I'm afraid of losing weight, afraid of being attractive? Or that maybe I fear I'll lose weight and STILL not be pretty?

Don't get me wrong - I have so many, many reasons to be glad I'm on my way to getting healthy (fourth day working out, baby!). There's just a lot to it. And, again, it's more than being fat. And even more than all my character flaws.

See, I have certain beliefs about relationships that don't seem to be terribly common. While I am a romantic in some ways, I'm actually very pragmatic about "love". I'm cautious. If a guy I didn't know or barely knew flirted with me - I really wouldn't recognize it if he did, so let's be more direct - asked me out, I would be suspiscious. Having spent the last 15+ years observing other people and their relationships, I find that guys who move fast, er, want everything to move fast.

You may be picking up on the fact that I don't believe in love at first sight. Lust, certainly. Attraction, yes. But not love. Love has to be proved in a relationship. End of story.

So, what I'm getting at is this: Not only am I fat, and deeply flawed, I am very much convinced that my Mr. Right does not exist. Because he'd have to A) accept me as I look and act; B) be patient as he's my friend first; C) be consistent in showing interest because I'm clueless and full of doubt; and D) not be into dating.

Oh, ya, I forgot to mention that, didn't I? I think dating is stupid. Terribly, horribly and irrevocably brain-dead stupid. But that's another post. Maybe.

Here's the hope I hold out, beyond losing my physical and emotional baggage, is that I will also lose the desire to be desired. That I'll be content with being single. Because, when I look at the pros and cons, singleness is just as good as coupledness. But logic and heart don't speak the same language, and it's those pesky emotions that trip me up all the time.