Why We Should Lean Into the Unfamiliar

As seen in my newsletter.

I posted a video to my Instagram stories earlier this week that I'd sent to a guy I'd matched with on Hinge. In the video I jokingly apologized for mistaking his number for someone else I matched with. YES. I did that. I mixed up two numbers. I called the one guy by the other guy's name and then....silence.

While just a snapshot, the above pretty perfectly captures what my dating life looks like right now. A little weird. A little haphazard. Rather funny. It's like I'm attempting to drive a car but one tire is flat and the car can't go in reverse and the windshield wipers only work about 30% of the time. I'm doing everything I can to simply navigate the vehicle and keep it on the road.

There's something both frustrating and sad about dating right now. When will we/I be out of this? When will I be able to see this individual I'm FaceTiming with in person? How the hell do I know if I even like them without meeting them in person? What's the point?

And then there's also something really beautiful, really perfect about it all. I'm someone that struggles with slowing things down, taking my time to get to know someone. I make a quick judgement and BOOM we're living together. I was never really able to date multiple people at once. For a while (ahem, until now), I always told myself that was just my nature, that it was too difficult juggling multiple potential partners. But the real underlying reason there was that I wanted to move through the What are we? Are you good for me? Do we want the same thing? period and just jump into bed with someone, both literally and figuratively. Now I have no choice but to wait.

My ability to wait, to exude more patience, is also fueled by the following reality: we're all experiencing an unprecedented amount of change, uncertainty, grief, and subsequent trauma, right now. We can't even begin to wrap our minds around the impact (in every sense of the word), this will have on us. The nature of our actions, from how we date to how we sleep to how we speak to our family members, is being impacted by this grand, monstrous, unwieldy pandemic. We all, including my potential Hinge suitors, all deserve as much patience and compassion as we can offer right now.

This morning I woke to a message from a guy asking if I wanted to FaceTime this week. Up until this point, our conversation had been pretty meh. I didn't have any negative feelings about him but I wasn't inclined to push things. If it weren't the age of Corona, I'm not sure I would have been motivated enough to leave my apartment, get on the subway, and meet him in person. But now? Now I can just sit on my couch. Now I can wear yoga pants. Now I can let a first date really be just about getting to know someone and enjoying their company. Even if that company is only through a screen, it's nice.

Even better? Now the good parts of our exchange can float to the surface. What before seemed bland now appears sweet, simple and honest. It's wild, even someone like me, who considers themselves pretty self aware, is having my own thoughts turned on their head. And.thank.God.for.that. How refreshing to realize how I may have been judgmental or wrong or made a mistake! It means I'm growing.

I was listening to a podcast the other day and one of the guests said:

That which is familiar is always the most attractive.

I immediately emailed those words to myself (which is what I do when I hear something I really want to remember). I don't want to do what's most familiar or comfortable. Not now. Not ever.

Everything feels unfamiliar right now. And while I was already riding the wave of pandemic silver linings before I came across this advice, these words have helped me to see the even greater gift in this time. It led me to ask myself: How, in every area of my life, can I lean into the unfamiliar? With dating, that's greater patience and multiple ongoing conversations. In work, it's simply a whole lot less work. With my body, it's slowness. Slower walks. Shorter workouts. More rest.

All of these things make me quite uncomfortable. I'm scared that by working less I'm putting myself at financial risk. I'm scared that by being patient in getting to know someone I'll also become more emotionally attached to multiple guys. I'm scared that my body will become less attractive by not sweating as much.

But in writing all these fears out—in seeing them, clear as day,—they somehow feel a whole lot smaller. Or at the very least, not worth letting dictate my life.

I don't have rules for how one should date right now.

I'll only say this: Do what feels most unfamiliar. Practice patience and compassion. Relish your mistakes. Hold your heart. There's so freaking much to learn right now. That can feel frustrating and sad, but it's also perfect. So very perfect.