Tag Archives: introvert

The (not) dating introvert, #2: never been kissed

24 May Longyearbyen in Norway gives much time to reflect.

You have probably seen those silly memes proclaiming that dating for over-thirty-year olds is “just like regular dating, but everything is on fire”. And you probably thought: “Haha. Silly. Next!” Or you ignored it altogether. Maybe you even tried to read some rare truth into that statement. In that case I pity you, because there is none.

Or your reaction was similar to mine: ‘what the heck are you even talking about’? How and why anyone quests for a romantic relationship depends on character attributes and personality, not on age. Almost all issues that stand between me and a happy dating experience are related to society and technology. Age plays almost no role in it. In fact, you could rewrite that same meme for age groups of 40, 50, and 80 years, and its value would not change. Dating success does not depend on age. Don’t let any random internet post tell you differently.

 

Look at me go! I haven’t even hit on the main subject yet, and already I am ranting away.

When I hear people talk about their puny relationship problems I usually roll my eyes, and move on. If you ponder questions such as ‘how many partners can I date simultaneously’, or ‘after how many dates am I allowed to kiss’, I have neither pity nor advice for you. Because I would gladly trade places with you, solve your imaginary problems by applying human decency, and live happily ever after. Seriously, if you spend any time wondering whether or not it’s okay for you to cheat on your partner, you simply don’t deserve the relationship you are in.

Because this is me: 30-something years old, never shared a kiss, never had an intimate relationship, never had a second date.

I am not desperate, needy, over-the-top socially awkward, or suffering from a lack of hygiene. For all purposes of human interaction I am a perfectly normal person. I have a positively humorous attitude, and a deep, critically thinking mind. There are several recipes I can cook and bake from scratch, and I have the mental capacity to figure out more. (Or follow the guidance of a cookbook, if it comes to that.) Singer, songwriter, academic, intellectual, photographer, blogger, feminist, sportif, enviro-nerd, blaBla … this is starting to read like a dating profile, so I’ll cap it with “well travelled man with an academic mind and artistic compassion.”

 

Goemon5 aboard the ABC RypMeOff

Mug shot. Seemed appropriate.

In short, if that portfolio does not get me a second date, what will?

(Actually, it’s difficult enough to get a first date, but more on that in a different post.)

Whatever it is that women expect from their suitors, I don’t have it. I tried singing, poetry, or funny conversation. It never amounted to anything useful.

I tried building my physical strength, but genetics prevent any decent progress on the matter. Even if I had the time to work out an hour every day, any muscle mass that I could build up in two months would completely vanish after just a few days of neglect.

That is not even a matter of physical slack, but purely a genetic discrepancy. I bike and run almost every day; I just don’t have time to lift weights every evening. Imagine if I did have that time. If I laboured away all summer, I would have the same amount of biceps and abs as a normal person. (Yes, that’s pretty much the limit; I tried that approach when I was in the army.) Follow that up with one day where I’m too tired from work to do anything but fall asleep, followed by one day of travel towards some random field station or conference, and I will pretty much fall back to where I started. That experiment has been tried, repeated, and the disappointing outcome recorded in personal logs of physical depression.

 

I am not a man that women want to date.

You can keep your ‘that’s not true’ kind of pity to yourself, because my conclusion results from 30-odd years of experience. There is no way you could fully comprehend my situation without walking in my shoes for a decade or two. Considering that most men can’t keep it in their pants for a week you are not likely to ever comprehend my situation. Patronising me only solidifies my overarching judgement – that regular people have not the hint of an idea what dating is like for a male introvert.

Face it: the decision on who you agree to date is first and foremost founded on physical attraction. There is some degree of variability involved in that decision, but you generally don’t go out with someone without finding their visual appeal eye-pleasing. And my counterfeit is not pleasing enough for ladies to think “I want to spend time with him”, at least not in comparison to the competition among my bearded peers. I have seen the pictures of single men on dating portals, and I certainly don’t blame women for their decisions – some of those guys are incredibly cute. (Just wait until you find out how many wifes and mistresses they have beside you. What, you thought you were the only woman who fell for that crooked smile?)

The superficial attractiveness of my face and body is something I have very little control over, and I am not willing to change my hair style every other day until I find one that provides additional 8% of traction on the market of visual allure. That is to say: I am stuck with the body I have, and the best I can do is feel comfortable in it, regardless of how others may judge it.

Open sea near Honningsvag, Norway

Dating is a mystical and nebulous paradigm to me. Like Honningsvag in the morning.

The Experience of Others

The internet is plastered with people giving advice for singles of all ages and social groups. I have found that none of their proclaimed techniques and approaches work for me. In some twisted way I am not normal enough to create attraction with words or gesture.

Forget about those ‘super awesome advices’, such as ‘pick a fun or interesting activity for your first date’. That literally never got me any recognition. Whenever I invite a lady to see a concert, or cook a meal, or throw axes at targets [the object, not the discount chain], the response is, invariably: ‘No.’ No matter how much they gloat about wanting to see that particular movie, or “love to see a live concert every week”, whenever I bring up that subject it basically kills all communication. The firmest response I ever received was: “I am socially shy around people, so I prefer something low key for first date”, followed by me inviting her for coffee any time she’s free next weekend, followed by her promising to get back to me, followed by her blocking my profile.

That disillusioning incident pretty much sums up my date life. Even when I manage to establish contact (which is already difficult enough), and remain friendly and reserved in that word exchange, I still get rejected most of the time. And at the odd chance I do score a first date (1:120; I’ll show you the math next time), there is never a second date attached to it.

That is me: 30-something, never been kissed, never been looked at twice. (At least not by a person I enjoy looking at.)

Man, that would almost be depressing, if nihilism didn’t already preach the emptiness of all things pretty. Alright, here is a cheerful picture of a cat. See you in the next blog, for some funny numbers and anecdotes. Or we meet in the comment section below, if you feel like sharing in your own experience.

natashas-cat-popo-36

Yoga Cat is just one of my many willing photo motives.

 

21st Century Dating Problems: #1 – the male introvert

19 May The port of Reykjavik at night
Approaching the 40-year landmark, and still being single. For some people this may not constitute a situation worth acknowledging. People fall in and out of love all the time, so what’s one more piece of dead weight?

As you can tell I am still trying to justify the existence of this blog to myself. But there are a couple of topics that I want to talk about, such as ‘women’ or ‘dating’, in the 21st century. I know, for some of you that’s already setting off alarm chimes: singling out women as a blog topic – isn’t that sexist?! Yeah, kinda. By definition any unweighted discussion of one sex can be considered sexist, meaning as soon as you mention ladies having vaginas you can rank yourself among the world’s leading sexists, together with #TheDonald, and that creep who always preys on co-workers bending over at the water fountain. The borders of what constitutes sexism have become so transparent that no-one can ever be safe again from being called gender-inappropriate, just for stating that women bear children. So, in all honesty: if you read any verbal attacks on any gender into my writing, please read again, because I definitely don’t mean to offend.

OK, now that we have lost 98% of all readers to a) a trolling frenzy about sexism, or b) boredom, we might as well start on our actual conversation topic – me. Yes, I really am that selfish. There is no other person I know better than myself, so it just seems like a very obvious location to start with.

 

“Hi, my name is Goemon, and I am single.”

I really hope you just said “Hi Goemon”. Otherwise I will feel very silly and underappreciated in this virtual self-help group.

For some people being single is normal. Afterall, we are born with that condition. (Excepting twins, but they have other troubles.) Some people have wild sex adventures with random strangers every weekend. Others date one person a year, just to prove they are still capable of faking affection. Others live in a happy relationship with their (in)significant other(s). [Four groups in one sentence – feel the power of parentheses!] Those people have their own problems and will not be mentioned again. Remember: this is about me.

I am approaching the 40-year landmark. (No, I’m not telling how far.) At that age the average first-world citizen has already broken up with more people than they met in first grade, and are either happily married, or are trying to pay off that divorce lawyer. I haven’t had any of that, and I feel somewhat left out of what I consider an integral aspect of the human experience.

I never had any kind of romantic relationship, and not for the lack of trying. I tried most of the regular approaches that people use to appropriate a partner. So far, dating websites have only proved themselves a massive waste of time. And my attempts to date lady friends have only made obvious that women don’t want to be any more than friends with me. I’m actually happy with that. A good friend counts more than a failed lover. Ship-wrecked romance is not a topic you want to associate with any specific person. It makes conversations at dinner gatherings very awkward.

A sceneic view of Molde Fjord, Norway

On a good day this photo of Molde Fjord is a good approximation of myself: small islands, distant from main humanity.

The typical approach

I have not tried chatting up women in bars and clubs, even though society preaches those rooms as the number-one pick-up parlour. As an introvert I just can’t handle that type of situation. Many people still mistake this as “being shy”, and solve the equation by being “more outgoing”. Those people don’t know what they are talking about. I’m not just shy. I am introverted.

I don’t have problems asking a female songwriter for an autograph. I don’t have difficulties chatting to fellow pub visitors about the latest developments in the Spiderverse. And I love giving academic talks to dozens of people I never met before. I thrive on intellectual intercourse, and have no adversities about any kind of conversation with anyone.

Unless it involves me. That is literally the only topic I can’t handle in conversation. [You see why this blog is about me now, don’t you?]

 

I am an introvert.

I can talk to you about my political position, or the ontogenetic development of male genitalia. But if you try to talk about my personal feelings and thoughts, you will hit a brick wall. Don’t try to peak over it. Few people have ever caught a glimpse of the other side, and I am determined to keep it that way. And if you try to pry a hole in it, security will escort you off the premise, and add your name to a black-list of people who are banned from personal conversation.

Introverts don’t talk about their feelings. Not to you, or anyone else. If you think that’s a ‘problem’ that needs to be ‘solved’, I can’t help you. You can either accept me as I am, or go and play with other kids. There is no third option.

As long as I can remember I had difficulties talking to people, and I always interpreted this as shyness, while others thought I tried to be disrespectful and exclusive. None of that is true. I am a perfectly adorable humanoid, just like anyone else. (Except for Donald J.; he’s a lump of poo.) What prevents me from socialising with others is not shyness, but my inscrutable inability to present my own inner self to a public audience. It took me some thirty years to develop a work-around. It’s based on the understanding that social conversation is not about me, but about the general idea of being together, and sharing words. You don’t need to reveal yourself to be sociable. Just talk about the weather, if that befits you. That is already sociable. Be aware of your surroundings, though. Weather talk is really fun in Alberta; not so much in England’s capital.

A bar aboard the ABC RypMeOff

My work as cruise photographer involved loads of social interaction. I can do that, just as long as it does not involve me personally.

Where was I going with this? Oh, yes, the direct conversation.

No, introverts don’t usually do that, and I personally definitively don’t. I can’t talk to women if I have a personal or romantic interest in them. It’s like talking about my feelings, just in this case I am actually blocking my own attempt to communicate.

Telling a woman that she’s beautiful basically reveals that I like her. And personal feelings are something I don’t disclose to strangers. Not for fear of being rejected, but simply for the fact that I can’t talk about my feelings to a person I barely know. Thus, me telling a lady that she’s cute is equivalent to you telling the supermarket teller about the recessed growth of your anal cancer. It’s deeply personal, and therefore not done.

 

That’s really all I wanted to say. Just a brief introduction of me and my situation. I am introverted, and therefore don’t talk about my feelings, including who I do or don’t have any romantic interest in. Should your significant other try to knock any of these findings over your head, merely remember that this entire blog is about me. You don’t need to associate yourself with my problems. Unless you really want to. In that case – welcome to my world of wordy disappointment.

 

Also, here is a cool website about introverts, just in case you feel yourself alone with certain problems: https://introvertdear.com/what-is-an-introvert-definition/