How dating women taught me about my need for validation with men.
I’ve always defined my sexuality as heterosexual.
But if I rewind 20 years ago for a moment (I was probably 11 or 12) I remember sitting in my mother’s office, watching some Victoria Secret-like commercial and just STARING at the women, borderline obsessed.
I couldn’t understand why, and then it dawned on me, my stomach dropped….
“Am I a lesbian?”
Now, look, I grew up in the Midwest (and not in the most forward-thinking town) but my uncle is gay and I love him dearly but to think I was actually gay, to be honest, scared the shit out of me. At that time it was very important to me that I fit in exactly like how I THOUGHT I should fit in, and being gay was 100% NOT part of that equation.
I pushed it to the back of my mind, and more and less forgot about it because I began happily dating men.
But every so often I’d think about that moment, and wonder. I mean, I had never actually dated women, so how can I know for sure?
Fast forward to present-ish day (almost two years ago now). I’m traveling to Costa Rica on a retreat because I’m just coming out of one hell of a relationship rock bottom with my ex, and figuring out what I want in life.
And in comes walking…well let’s call her “T”.
I didn’t think much of it at first. We were both having fun at the retreat, finding ways to sit close to one another. Until lunches turned into outings together which turned into us talking about hanging out back in the States…and low and behold she lived in the same city I did.
How was this not fate people?!
So we went on our first date back home. She could tell I was used to dating men, and we talked about it, but it wasn’t much of an issue after that and we quickly became pretty crazy about one another. I remember us even talking in the car, a day before she was leaving for a work trip, about being exclusive when she came back.
Until I got a heartbreaking text saying, “I don’t think I’m ready to be in a relationship.”
Ouch. She couldn’t even say it to my face.
Now I was really confused. Not only about how I just got dropped on my ass from this chick, but also…do I like girls now? I wasn’t ready to go back to guys and pretend like my foray into lesbianism didn’t happen.
I thought about that 12 year old girl staring at the Victoria Secret models.
I didn’t really give a shit what anyone thought anymore, and I lived in a very open minded city. And I wasn’t going to spend my life wondering how I felt about something, I was going to see for myself. Was this a one-off or am I about to step into my truth?
So I did what any single, curious, and slightly heartbroken woman would do in the midst of a sexuality crisis.
I got on Tinder….
And Bumble….and Her.
At first, with Tinder and Bumble, I was looking at guys and girls as possible dating options. Then I decided to go all in and just date women for a while.
Some dates fizzled, some women seemed like they’d make great friends but there was no attraction. But there was one woman I actually LIKED.
So we kept seeing each other.
Not long, mind you, maybe 3 or 4 hangouts total.
Then I took a 3 week trip, did some real self reflection and realized, however great she was, I ultimately wanted to date a man.
So I sent a text (I couldn’t even say it to her face — I know) and she said she understood and it was all very mature and as lovely as something like that can be.
And I decided to start dating men again. And it didn’t take too long before I had one lined up. A really nice, smart, funny guy my friend thought I’d really like.
And I did like him. I wasn’t crazy about him, but I would have given him a second date.
And as he walked me to my apartment, I could tell he wasn’t interested in a kiss. We hugged, I got a gut feeling I would not be hearing from him again, and walked upstairs.
And a funny thing started to happen:
Cue anxiety, thought loops, and a strong need for validation that I was wrong. That he DID like me.
So I sent him a few texts that week that he kindly responded to but was so clearly not initiating, and I gave up.
And I wondered why I was so invested in someone I really wasn’t that interested in. And clearly wasn’t that interested in me.
I thought back to the dates with women, I had seen really wonderful, beautiful women. But I could walk away from the date, appreciating the fun time I had, and not being too worried if we hung out again. If it was meant to be, it’d be.
Looking back on this now, there were two big things I took away:
1) I finally knew what it felt like to have self worth in a relationship: I think the second woman I dated liked me a bit more than I liked her. So I let her initiate more and try a bit harder. I had never been in that position before, and it let me see the other side of the relationship when I had power. I never took advantage of the situation, but I could now see how easy it would be to.
2) This is what it felt like to not NEED a person. I could let people come and go, enjoying them as it happened, and not attach myself before it was appropriate.
But I was not doing this with men. I was obsessing, giving my power away, bending over backwards, not reading signs of disinterest, putting up with emotional unavailability, and putting my love and attention towards people who didn’t feel the same about me.
Why?
Because I had been hurt by them so many times. Because my first love showed me the extreme highs and lows of what it means to be attached to someone and then have it ripped away from you. Because society tells me I’m better with a man. Because I stopped seeing my father at the age of 3 and didn’t understand why. Because I struggled for a long time having real connections with anyone besides who I was in a romantic relationship with. Because I deeply longed for connection with another person (like we all do) and didn’t know how to pick someone who would be there for me.
No wonder that guy…many guys…weren’t interested. Look how much shit I was putting on them.
And then I started taking ownership.
Every shitty thing that happened, every bad date, every ghost, every unrequited love I took as a lesson I KNEW I was about to learn.
And I started learning.
I learned if I dated a few men at a time for awhile, I would be better to discern what behaviors I liked and what I didn’t, because I wasn’t putting all my eggs in one basket.
I learned I didn’t know how to pick emotionally available men, so I started saying no to anyone who couldn’t show up for me.
I learned about my abandonment issues, and worked with professionals to process that pain so I wouldn’t be so afraid of it happening again that I could let the relationship, and myself, breath.
Every pain is a lesson, which can be a really annoying thing to hear from someone if you don’t know how to turn that pain INTO a lesson.
But recognizing it’s a lesson is the first step. Then being open to learning from it will follow.
You got this.
I didn’t quite achieve the same carefree attitude I did while dating girls. Because I discovered I ultimately wanted a long-term relationship with a man, which is a big thing, and with bigger wants there’s bigger fears. But I got pretty darn close.
And as for that little girl in me obsessed with the Victoria Secret models? Well they were beautiful, of course. And I’m pretty sure a lot of that obsession had to do with their bodies and how I was SURE if I looked like that all my problems would disappear.
But that’s a story for another time.
