Online dating, vulnerability, and brick walls.

In the past year, I have gone on quite a few first dates. Some of you know this, but at the beginning of 2014, I decided to dabble in the overwhelming, often hilarious, and ridiculous world of online dating. Now don't get me wrong, I know it can work, and it's one of the most effective ways of dating in our society today, but my experience has been interesting. I've gone on numerous dates to coffee shops, bars for a drink, restaurants for dinner (those make me the most nervous), and even once went canoeing with a guy on a first date. I recognize that wasn't my smartest or safest choice, but I lived (and the more I think about it, I realize that was a very dangerous decision).

All Most of the men have been great, easy to talk to, and the dates have been enjoyable. There was that one crazy dude, but that's a story for another time. Through all of this dating however, I've learned something, okay, a lot of things, about myself. On my latest date, we were at dinner, and I realized that I was being absolutely, completely, and entirely BORING. I'm not joking. I was boring myself. I literally thought at one point, "If I was him, I'd be out of here in a jiffy."

And then it clicked. I was hiding behind my education of therapy and my skills of essentially interviewing people about their lives without letting them into mine. I was genuinely caring about his life, but I wasn't letting him past a huge concrete wall into mine.

If I've let you past that wall even in the slightest, you know that I'm freaking hilarious. Okay, maybe not stand-up comedy status, but I think I'm funny. Basically I'm just ridiculous and goofy and friends laugh at my ridiculousness. I wasn't letting him see any of that, and I didn't know how to break down the wall in the moment. I even went to the bathroom and texted a friend with the classic "SOS this date is going horribly!". (Not surprisingly, there was no second date, but at least I learned a lot!)

After the date I was SO mad at myself. Why couldn't I let him in? Why was I so stiff and intellectual and not funny one little bit?

This past weekend, I went down to Pasadena area to visit one of my favorite people and closest friends from undergrad, Jenn Irish. Two of our mutual close undergrad friends, Em and Stef, came up to Pasadena from San Diego for the weekend, and it was amazing. It was a time of just being myself. Of being ridiculous and real about my feelings and fears and dreams and goals. Of laughing about silly debates about colors of clothes (I swear those shorts of Em's were peach, not orange…or sherbet. haha) and laughing at how we've changed from college and passing around a tub of cookie butter ice cream as we each had a spoon.

It was so.good.

I love that I have people in my life that know the true me. The me that is sarcastic, blurts out ridiculous things, and how I truly couldn't live without almonds. From Redding to Hughson to San Diego to around the US and even world, I have friends who know the authentic me. So grateful for how they got past my walls.

I think healthy relationships/friendships involve an incredible amount of vulnerability. It takes effort for sure. We build these walls for our protection, usually because we've gotten previously emotionally hurt by someone who we've let past the walls. I don't believe those walls are inherently negative. They protect us and we are in control of them.

However, I think we need to have doors in the walls. We need to figure out what our walls consist of. For me, my walls recently are based on my academic knowledge and intellectualizing conversations. The wall has a door, but it seems to take a very specific knock and dance to get me to fully open the door so a person gets all the way through.

We also need to discover what allows a person through/over/under/vaporize though the walls. When do we let people in? What makes them safe? Who do we see as safe? and most importantly, do we still agree with what kind of people we've let through in the past, and if not, how can we change those?

I guess this post is an attempt in the ongoing process to break down those walls in my life. Vulnerability is scary. It's uncomfortable. It pushes you out of your comfort zone. But it's essential for growth. For healthy relationships. And for me, hopefully, it will eventually allow me to be myself on dates.

I leave you with a quote from one of my absolute favorite authors and researchers:

“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. 

Truth and courage aren't always comfortable, but they're never weakness.” 

― Brené Brown, Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead

Thankful for these women who love me when I'm truly myself. 

by the way folks, I'm only four months away from being done with a masters in Counseling Psychology and finished with grad school in general! start the celebrations now!