How I almost found true love with ol' What's-his-name

Leola Floren Gee

I was in love. Well, maybe not love exactly. He was tall. I think. And dark. Or maybe not. His name was Larry. Possibly.

The important thing was: I had a date: When you are 13 and all eyes in the universe are upon you, your dignity is on the line. What's-his-name wasn't the best-looking guy on the planet, and he wasn't the most athletic, or smartest, or wittiest. He was, however, available, and when you're desperate, that counts for a lot.

My best friend Valerie had a date with What's-his-name's best friend, so I guess you could say we doubled. The date consisted of walking a few blocks to a youth group activity, sitting together through songs, testimonies and a brief devotional, and then walking back.

All that wouldn't have been so bad, but while we were walking, it was kind of expected that we talk to each other. Once we'd exchanged information on schools, sports, siblings, pets and whether or not we played musical instruments, the evening went downhill fast. Later, Val and I agreed our respective relationships were going nowhere, but there was a hitch: The guys wanted us to be their dates again later that week.

For those of us without the social knack, teen romance is not all it's cracked up to be. Girls like Zsa Zsa (not her real name), who was for years the reigning date queen of North America, made it look so easy. At youth group retreats, this gal moved in like a SWAT team. Before anybody else had their suitcases unpacked, she was hanging out at the snack bar, flirting with the hunkiest guys, and by dinnertime she was booked through Christmas.

The rest of us watched, filled with longing. Would we ever fall head over heels in love? Would we stroll hand in hand (or mitten in mitten) in the moonlight? Share whispered secrets? Laugh meaningfully at private jokes? Sneak a good night kiss?

As a veteran of half a dozen brief teen romances, I have thought a lot about the issue of dating. If I had it to do over again, I'd change a few things. So go ahead; benefit from my miserable failures:

1. I would spend less time trying to impress the guys, and more time just enjoying myself. On retreats or at other social gatherings, I wouldn't worry so much about makeup, jewellery and the "right" outfit. Instead of lipstick, I'd pack my lucky softball mitt. In other words, I wouldn't pin my hopes for having a great time on whether or not I made a good impression on Mr. Right. Or even Mr. Maybe.

2. Everything I learned about romance from novels and TV, I'd toss out the window. With few exceptions, great relationships grow out of mutual interests and values--rarely does true love strike over a shared can of Pepsi.

3. I'd be more realistic. When I met someone special who lived far away (10 miles is far away if you don't have your driver's license), I'd try to put things in perspective. Phone calls and letters may work for a while, but long-distance rates have a way of cooling long-distance romance. While there may be exceptions, it's difficult for a relationship to develop and mature if you can't see each other more than once or twice a year.

4. I'd be more direct. Another word for that is "honest". It's not that I told outright lies, but as I became disenchanted with a particular relationship, I had a tendency to avoid the person rather than confront the issue head on. Given another chance, I'd force myself to communicate, even when it felt uncomfortable or required confrontation, as in: "You're a nice person, but I'm not interested in dating you. And stop grabbing my hand, or the next time you do, you'll find it's full of bubble gum. Pre-chewed."

5. I'd squelch the daydreaming habit. For one thing, not Brad Pitt, not Leonardo DiCaprio, not Batman himself could possibly live up to one little fantasy. For another thing, dwelling on events and relationships that may never happen sets you up for a cycle of high hopes, followed by reality, followed by depression.

I have three more pieces of advice.

1. If you date, date for the right reasons. Not because "everybody else is half a couple"--because everybody isn't. If you meet someone and there's mutual attraction, spending time with each other and developing a friendship can be wonderful.

2. Heed this word of warning: If he (or she) pressures you to engage in public affection, your relationship may be for show. Dating isn't something you do to impress others; it's an important step in the search for a lifetime mate.

3. Don't be thrown by a failed date. It's natural to fall for somebody with whom you have a brief encounter--at a game or retreat, during vacation, maybe at a part-time job--and the early days and weeks of such a relationship are exciting, particularly if you look into the future and see promise of genuine romance. If it works out that way, you truly are blessed. If it doesn't work out this time, step back, regroup and think about what you learned from the experience. Chances are you learned something that will help you in future relationships. You may shed a few tears, and that's normal. You may find it helpful to pour your feelings and frustrations into a diary or journal. That's normal too. But then it's time to get on with your life.

Believe it or not, people survive wrecked romances. They even survive dating.

Return to the M.B.Herald Vol. 38, No. 5 Home Page