I (23F) went on my first date, and in all honesty I don’t know if I should simply lose hope.

For a bit of background, I have never been romantically involved with anyone in terms of having a formal relationship or intimacy. A good portion of my ‘lack’ of experience during my teenage years was partially due to the fact that I spent most of it either in lockdown or at home due to strict parents, which ultimately did not really allow me to go out there and acquire any sort of normalcy.

I moved out of my family’s home for university at 18, and have even moved countries in the process. I believed this liberty would finally allow me to partake in parts of ‘normal life’ that were once restricted to me. However, during these last few years I have come to realise that I am either damaged socially and emotionally for the rest of my life, or I am simply not in the right headspace to pursue any sort of romantic commitment. 

In these last few years, I have actively avoided clubbing and extreme drinking due to personal reasons, this of course closed a lot of doors for me. Nevertheless, I have found myself in absolutely absurd situations, from having men follow me through public spaces to (nearly) my flat in hopes of going out with me, to having people that have known me for less than 24 hours asking me on dates.

I am not a reserved person, I am extroverted in the sense that I have learnt how to talk to people and how to get them invested in the conversation in the process. I would argue that I am quite good at making and maintaining friendships, but in the realm of dating it is quite another story. I sometimes find myself unconsciously targeting certain guys, be it in classes or other stuff, and beginning a sort of back and forth with them that most of the times leads to them either wanting something intimate or asking me on a date. The problem is, the moment they explicitly reciprocate this interest I had in them, my own interest vanishes automatically — I would go as far as calling it active disgust, for a guy that just some conversations ago I was fantasising about. If it was a one time thing I would not bother, but it has repeatedly occurred with ALL guys I have ever talked with. 

I suppose my perceptions of love, romantic relationships, and dating, are all quite naive and the product of teenage fantasies that never had the opportunity to flourish and mature — and I suppose there is no one else to blame but me. 

This repetitive cycle happened once more recently, but instead of automatically acting in response to my disgust, I decided to take on the date and see what would happen. What ended up transpiring was me acting like a fool and realising that my previous fantasies of this guy were just that, fantasies. I do not know if it is humiliating to say that I have had my first date at 23, but that is not the problem here, the problem is I cannot even be sincere about it. A good part of moving countries is that, in a way, you can truly start anew. But that does not mean you can escape the expectations and judgements of others. During my first year at university I tried to subtly bring up the fact that I had never been in a relationship and hadn’t even had my first kiss to a friend. Her automatic reaction was to tell me that I was lying and that ‘this is the UK, you don’t have to pretend all of that purity culture stuff’.  The problem is, everyone I have attempted to bring this up with has reacted in the same way: laugh while thinking it was a joke —> slowly realise I am not laughing with them —> tell ME, that I am lying about my own relationship experience, that of course I’ve had boyfriends and I was a really bad liar. 

Another fact that has recently come to my attention is that ALL the guys that have expressed any sort of interest in me are usually older than me, from 3 to 8 years. I do not know if my ‘automatic disgust’ might be connected to that, but to be honest I am so lost that I don’t even know if rationalising my own reaction to external romantic interest will be of any use.

I am aware that this is a horrendously structured post, with seemingly no proper plan, but that is what it is — a ramble of someone attempting to understand why she is obsessed with the idea of love and romantic relationships, and yet cannot help but feel disgust when actually presented with it in real life.