I had a first date last Saturday. I was more impressed with the venue, a fancy Mediterranean restaurant located near Grand Central Station in NYC, rather than by the man himself. We had many things in common so we didn’t lack subjects to talk about. However, I did not like how he wasn’t dressed appropriately for the venue (he dressed pretty casually in a semi-formal environment). And his mannerisms were slightly off, for example like he didn’t like giving eye contact. He seemed nice but I was turned off by my first impression of him. However, I’m going to meet him again next weekend to see if anything changes if he gets used to me.
Since I had that date, I was thinking about how much value I place on social status and appearances. Ever since I started trying to date more seriously, I realized that I have criteria that I vaguely was aware of before. I like well-educated and intellectual men who have good jobs. I want them to be financially stable and have good relationships with their family. I want them to understand social situations and perform appropriately. I obviously think that my partner reflects me in some way and I don’t ever want to be embarrassed by him.
Some may find this very cold, practical and unromantic. I guess I’m fine with that assessment. I want to know that I chose the best person that I can find to be with me. I do place value on personal chemistry since I have to like the person too, even if they satisfy my internal criteria. But I don’t want to be swept off my feet by love or lust in any way. I prefer the slow build-up to love.
I wonder if this kind of attitude scared off a lot of people. Or if I drove off potential suitors because I found them unacceptable. However, I don’t know how much my asexuality also prevented people from approaching me. I’m sure I confused people because of my lack of interest in dating even though I was “normal” in every other way. I’m working on trying to be less reserved (a couple of people told me that I give off positive and maternal vibes, which I found positive).
While I was drafting this blog post, I was listening to Diana Krall’s I’m Not In Love.