For the first time since my move last April, I got asked out. I knew it would happen eventually whether during my commute or at work or at the book store. It happened at work. He asked if I’d like to go to a hockey game with him sometime. I didn’t have the right words, so, “I’m good right now, but thank you,” spilled out.
I did not blush.
I did not hesitate.
I did not give an ambiguous answer.
I did not go against myself like I usually do and accept while knowing I’m not ready.
Score one for me!
I cannot describe how odd yet right it feels to have declined this offer. I have gone over different scenarios in my mind every night for the last week. I still have to see this person regularly, so it feels a little awkward right now. I would like to say, “I’m not ready to date right now, but thank you all the same.” It might explain my answer better, though I know I owe him no explanation. I know I have no obligation to accept a request for a date either. From anybody. I’m proud of myself for giving a straight answer and for staying true to what I need.
In the past, when I renewed my relationship with the gut-piercer, we put things in a not-committed, monogamous status. It made it hard for me to give straight answers when I got asked out because I didn’t have a boyfriend, per se, so I’d say, “Yeah, that would be fun.” I wouldn’t call or schedule whatever activity had been suggested, from rafting to skiing. I would just leave it in the air, suggested, ambiguous, not fully declined yet not fully accepted, which is kind of a shitty way to leave things. It made it especially difficult when the invitation included Little Guy and would expose him to an activity I knew he wanted to try, and the person would use that angle. I didn’t want to deny Little Guy the experience. I wanted him to experience it! With not the person who asked. That part wasn’t right, so I didn’t call. Or ever explain myself. Or ever fully decline and let the guy move on without thinking he had a chance of floating down the river with me or my son. They would have to figure it out for themselves and think what they thought. Ugh.
This time I did it right. For me. Right for me. It feels weird because I’m taking a different approach. It feels great because I need this time for myself.
And it might be best to accept an invitation for a date at a time when I’m not sleeping on the bottom bunk in my son’s room. That’s a whole other story for another day.