Pivot Point

Every physical movement has a pivot point—the moment where one direction ends and another begins.

Birdanity has reached one, too.

It’s about to wander into sex, men, and my dating life.

You have been alerted. Proceed with caution.

“Mom, if you’re

reading this:

Stop. Now.”

Pivot

The pivot point is this: learning to date again, letting go of a little self-criticism, and redefining some personal boundaries.

Bird Dating

I’ve been thinking an awful lot about men and dating recently. Awful may be the operative word there, in that thinking often seems overrated.

Still, I do think, and one of the most curious things to me at present is dating men. I read a whole book about it this week and it’s fascinating to find all the ways I am truly horrible at it.

Birdanity: After Dark

Since Birdanity has always been where I write to myself—and accidentally to all of you—this feels like the right place for a little “After Dark.”

Let me know if you approve? The Comment box is on here somewhere. People hardly ever use it.

Do try though, will you? I’d honestly love to get your feedback.

Back to dating:

Dating me feels like a peacock flaunting its magical feathers, which is a different side of me that most people never see. I squawk a lot, I’m honest, opinionated, deeply human, intimate, and touchy-feely.

While I may still be sexy, lovely, and freckly, I’m also quite the hippie. Braless as often as possible and occasionally quite naive.

Sure, I can probably fix up your house, but fix my own dating profile? That’s another topic entirely.

That’s where libraries and books come in. This week’s read, Single Ladies Only – Everything You Need to Know to Date Smarter.

I’m learning here and with you.

Let’s dive in.

*

Bird’s Ben

Recently, I dated a gentleman named “Ben.” Of course, that’s not his real name. I try to be a gentlewoman, too.

We went on two dates and talked for a few weeks. We had incredible sex and good Lord, it was hot.

Ghosted me after, he did.

Either that, or he fell off a cliff.

Statistics aren’t on my side.

In any case, what I learned in those weeks of our exchanges included many lessons.

• One: I’m far more passionate than I realized.
• Two: Apparently I narrate my emotional life in bed.
• Three: Physical intimacy unlocks a version of me that few people ever meet.

True story, sometimes I wish I were a cat who just sits and stares until it’s time to pounce or look for prey. I’m not that. Yet.

I’m probably getting there.

Anyway.

Chapter 1: Dating Smarter

“There are three possible parts to a date, of which at least two must be offered: entertainment, food, and affection. It is customary to begin a series of dates with a great deal of entertainment, a moderate amount of food, and the merest suggestion of affection. As the amount of affection increases, the entertainment can be reduced proportionately. When the affection is the entertainment, we no longer call it dating. Under no circumstances can the food be omitted.”

– Miss Manners Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior

Excruciating?

Excruciating is right. It’s like learning to exercise on the daily. I just have to get up and do it whether I want to or not because what I do today, mentally speaking, also affects how I will feel tomorrow.

Tonight though, I am dang tired of dating. I’ve been ghosted, apparently I offered myself too easily, and filtering through men to identify compatibility is still somewhat of a mystery in that I just started dating and I’m not actually sure what I want either at present.

What I wanted, past tense, was really great sex. I didn’t know I wanted that either. Still, we both got that.

What I didn’t get was the food or even a long-term relationship kind of guy. Ben may have indicated he wanted that in his profile, but the actual truth is that he wanted quick sex, too. He wanted sexting and all that came with that story.

Me too. It was wonderful while it lasted. Cumming, party of two.

The book argues that men and women often approach dating differently.

Maybe.

I’m still sorting out what I believe.

I know women enjoy sex, too. I certainly do. Sometimes I don’t want to wait any more than a man does.

The bigger question, for me, isn’t whether sex comes early or late.

It’s what happens afterward.

Dating, it turns out, isn’t really about finding someone else.

It’s becoming an odd little anthropology project on myself.

Every date teaches me something.

Sometimes it’s about men.

Usually it’s about me.

Tomorrow, another story.

The end.

Of dating? Nah.

I’ll keep you posted, if you like, about how daring to date is going. Again, I’d only know you’re curious if you actually comment here.

Again, please?

I doubt Ben’s ghost will reappear. I’m ok with that.

Goodnight, Birdanity.

Sleep well.