(via)
When I moved to this big city, I went out nearly every night, met tons of guys and played the field more than I probably should have. And then shortly after living here, I was hit with cervical cancer. If that wasn't a sign, then I don't know what was. After battling something like cancer, it changes everything - relationships, friendships, sex, life.
After conquering several [personal and relationship] demons over the last five years, I decided to get back into the [dating] game. I was never against being in a relationship, but I just couldn't find the right guy. Hairy back. Bad kisser. Small package. You name it, they had it. I never have any problem getting guys to like me, I just have problems finding the right guy to like. Am I too picky? Maybe. But shouldn't I be? I've played the field enough now to know what qualities I like (and don't like) and what kind of man I'm looking for. Don't settle for anything less than what you deserve.
When you've survived something like cervical cancer, which carries a huge stigma and affects a woman's sex drive, reproductive system, and "kibbles and bits," it's tough to find someone who will date you. As if my life isn't already messed up enough, now I sound like a charity case. Because any guy who passes the first few dates assumes he's going to find his way into your bed. And we all know where that leads to. Except, that's not really where I want it to lead to because I'm afraid of revealing my dark and scary past to him, knowing he's going to run away the instant I open my mouth. Because the typical response when I tell a man I had cervical cancer is:
::crickets::
And that? SUCKS. To actually believe that I'm not worthy enough to date. That I'm not able to compliment someone or be complimented. To have a guy show me - through his actions - that I'm not good enough makes me believe that maybe I'll never be good enough because of all of the shit that I've lived through. But conquering cervical cancer has become a big part of my life now. So much that I've made advocating for it my career. It's what I'm living for now. But I can't get past that fear of rejection. Because no one likes to be rejected. When do you open those can of worms? When do you expose yourself and allow yourself to become vulnerable to a man without fearing he'll turn his back and walk away?
So, there's this guy. I see him a few nights a week since we play hockey together. He's got a ripped body (need I say more?) and a good personality. He's already made a couple Asian jokes at me (which in turn, led me to make a couple Jewish jokes at him), so clearly there's some kind of compatibility there. It's easy to laugh and make jokes, but we have yet to have those deep, intellectual conversations that he tells me he prefers to have (because really, when is there time to have deep, meaningful, intellectual conversations on the hockey rink?!). Right now, it's good. But I fear having that conversation with him, should it ever transpire into anything real, because he could be another one who runs away. And after a while, you get tired of being the one who's left behind. You just want to find someone who will stand still with you.
"I've done the merry-go-round. I've been through the revolving door. I feel like I met somebody I can stand still with for a minute and ... don't you wanna stand still with me?"
- Carrie Bradshaw, to Mr. Big -
