As A Woman, Am I too Picky When It Comes To Dating?

When it comes to dating or being involved with the dating industry, I’ve discovered that there are many a good reason as to why setting your bar high can be a positive and negative thing.  Transitioning from a twenty something year old single woman to the next age defining bracket, my dating stakes can and are definitely higher than what I originally expected them to be.

Working in an environment and industry such as health care and medicine, I’ve noticed my life has become busier as a result of my current environment not believing in a sick day.

Due to the stressful demand of my job and the lack of sleep we, medical staff, seem to function on; it is often understated when the sheer thought of shaving my legs, getting that bikini wax, wearing deodorant and a dress and trying to not talk about work is sometimes too much of an effect when it comes to dating.

But when I am capable of shaving my legs with a chainsaw and applying a dress that isn’t inside out, I often find myself being silently prodded, poked, torn and judged. With this in mind, it has become even more apparent over the past few years as friends have began to settle down into their relationships and marriages before the announcement of a baby is entering this world, I often feel like there is a subtle pressure to find the ‘right person‘.

Because who could imagine at twenty something, I’d still be single.

For I was always known as that girl who could socialise within an inch of life and move around in circles with both sexes. As a result, everyone thought by the time I was 25, I’d be married with children. However being the complete rebel at heart who can’t think inside the box, I defied society’s expectations and went about leaving a relationship that wasn’t viable. Like the countless stories within my self-discovering bible (Eat, Love, Pray by Elizabeth Gilbert), I went on adventure.

My adventure has taken me from the un-confident creature I was to the confident and kick arse woman and person I am. I am effectively someone who is much stronger and resilient to most things that can inflict harm, doubt and loss of guidance while still being my own biggest enemy with self-doubt and the sheer constant strain of allowing my anxiety to get the better hold of me.

With curiosity, determination and the ever internal thought of ‘I cannot fail!’, I set out for an adventure that would see me undertake a Bachelor and graduate from the college of my dreams with a Degree in Nursing.

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During this adventure of a lifetime, I discovered who my true friends are and the shady crazy b*tches who’d stab you in the back for a gains of an advantage. More importantly during this time of being a single woman who lived in a city filled with eligible and very single bachelors, I started a relationship with a man on the context of ‘friends with benefits’.

As a result of this relationship and the confidence I had gained, I told him that I had fallen in love with him. Post admitting of my feelings, I soon learnt a variety of different lessons as to how the dating game worked when I had my heart broken.

Twice.

As a result of my stupidity or sheer courage knowing full well what was about to occur since I wasn’t playing by the rules, I accepted my lose and continued on with my decision to enter the world of online dating and the dating industry altogether. Having shrugged off his concern as to whether or not I was hanging from the rafters, I started writing down the list of what I wanted in a man and as a partner.

Due to this moment of clarity, I couldn’t help but wonder as a woman, am I too picky when it comes to dating?

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Clearly not knowing as to whether or not I was picky when it came to dating as a woman, I set about researching and gathering bits of information so I could form an opinion.

Hopefully when it came time to realising, I wouldn’t be a spinster with an ageless face and the holy ‘good-girl-butter-wouldn’t-melt’ opinion from men that seems to follow me. With this in mind, I picked up an article titled, ‘Girls are too picky, there is no perfect man’ written and published on by Mama Mia (click here for the article).

What I wasn’t expecting to do while reading this hilarious and yet, so incredibly truthful article was to burst into hysterical laughter. As the tears rolled down my face and I clutched my sides, hoping to ease the stitch that had formed from the amount of drive I was putting into the laughter; I madly dashed the tears out of my eyes with the back of my hand before peering at the screen.

There in crisp black and white alongside a side serving of humor was the somewhat scary thought of Australia experiencing a “man drought” as cited by Mama Mia.

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Hello…. Mr. Darcy, are you there?

All because some demographer named Bernard decided to interview people whilst stringing a few polls together and clearly found for every one single, slightly uncompromised and keeps his dick in his pants male is 16 women, fighting over him.

Lucky Bastard!

My initial thought after having read this soul crushing declaration of impending spinsterhood was the difficulty of finding a position as a graduate nurse in Queensland and Australia. Now,  I had to enter the Hunger Games to find myself an actual date.

A date who was going to respond to my text of thanking him for a wonderful evening. A date who wasn’t going to ghost me because he thought I appeared to innocent and was connected too much to social media (true story as it’s part of my job!). Lastly, a date who wasn’t going to remind at every given moment how innocent I look and am I old enough to be out on a date.

Or when I am not finding myself being poked and found lacking, I begin to have that not-so-fleeting question of how many men deemed under the title of “emotionally stunted f*ckwits, racist and fascist pigs, ghosters, megalomaniacs who purely think with their dick and those who don’t know when the good chick is standing in front of them declaring her love for them” am I going to date?

All because I want to find someone who I can settle down with and know at the end of the day, I’m not going to be controlled or mentally, sexually or physically abused in a domestic violence relationship. Because I have been there, done that and don’t particularly wish to be involved in another psycho-bullshit relationship or be made to schedule my sex life in between 5.30 am and 6.00 am as it gets just a tad bit boring after a while.

Now while my single gals and guys slowly but surely come to terms with our idealism thoughts on what actually love is, being wooed with romance and intimate settings and finding someone who ticks off our secret list of ‘partner-ly traits’. It also gives us, poor suckers with emotions and an actual heart, time to grieve and gather our strength as we’re going to be waiting a century and a half for Mr. and Mrs. Perfect, who simply may or may not exist.

Better start freezing my eggs while I browse the endless supply of frozen sperm or consider asking my gay friends if they’d consider turkey basting me.

Now as I bring this particular post of mine to an end, that’s if you managed to make it this far, I would normally conclude with something witty, hilarious, slightly obscene or sarcastic. However being someone who believes in writing the truth and being honest, I’ve decided to throw a ‘fuck it’ spanner in the works and my conclusion is going to be for those out there who are wondering is this:

I am a fiercely strong, independent and courageous woman who has been raised in a household to believe in morals, values, self worth and I won’t settle for something less than what I deserve, desire and ultimately want for a partner. My desire is to date and eventually marry someone who has been raised with similar beliefs, believes in being equals in our relationship, won’t stray and will hopefully be someone who provide the necessities, alongside myself, for children.

So to those past, present and future men and women who are going to sit there opposite me and silently judge me for having different opinions and for appearing ‘innocent’ like; well here is something for you to judge, poke, prod and seriously think over.

I have been that woman who was sexually molested by a family friend when she was sixteen and was told not to tell anyone because “it was our little secret.”  All the while I struggled and screamed behind a hand pressed against my face, smothering my plea for him to stop before eventually locking my brain away into a safe place.

I have been that woman who defied the threat of her sexual abuse to inform her parents of what had initially happened behind closed doors and as a result, I have been that woman who informed the next victims parents of what was going to happen too their mentally handicapped daughter. As a result, I have been that woman who has spent years wondering if she saved that person’s life, self worth, morals and values and virginity from being taken violently.

I have been that woman who was left behind by her partner at the age of eighteen after being verbally abused and labelled a “whore” by his mother. I have been that woman who fell pregnant as a result of being raped by this person after having drink spiked while attending a party.

I have been that woman who suffered a miscarriage and the degrading shame of being asked, “was it really mine?”

I have been that woman who has secretly wondered if she was good enough and why her partner was no longer interested in having a sexual relationship. I have been that woman who later discovered after many years as those questions and many were left unanswered, that said partner had been seeing someone else.

I have been that woman who was rejected and placed on a pedestal because she held those morals and values close to her chest and ultimately made the choice to not sleep with a guy on the first day because she was worthy. I have been that woman who made this man work incredibly hard to be my friend first and foremost before he was allowed a peek as to what lay beyond my pants and who was really lurking behind the facade.

Lastly, I have been and still am that woman who is constantly facing and overcoming adversity with her head held high, her morals and values intact all the while wearing a pair of stilettos and red lipstick.

So no, as a woman, I do not consider myself picky when it comes to dating.

*Note: all images collected from Lawyeringinlilly

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