Category Archives: on love & romance

Then

Me: I’m going to send him a message ’cause see I need help with this thing that only he knows.

Her: You don’t need to send him a message. Can’t you Google it, instead?

Me: I’ve tried but I’m not really understanding the results.

Her: Eleni…

Me: I swear!

Her: Honey, just admit that you’re trying to get his attention by sending him some contrived question.

Me: I’m trying to get his attention.

Her: Fine, but are you ready if he doesn’t reply?

Me: Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes! It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t reply. I’m cool. I’m confident. I’m breezy.

I send a short message that takes me fifteen minutes to compose.

Call her back every hour on the hour with updates.

“He still hasn’t replied! Do you think he will?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Oh my god! What did I do? Why did I send it? I’m such an idiot. He doesn’t like me. No-one likes me. I’m going to be alone forever.”

Now

Me: I want to send him a message.

Her: How come?

Me: I want to show off. I want him to see that I was in a magazine! Me! In a magazine!

Her: Do it! You should be showing it off. You should be proud of it!

Me: Really? I thought you’d think it was a bad idea. After every stupid decision I’ve made to get some guy’s attention…

Her: Are you ready for him -

Me: – Oh honey, I’m so over expectations.

Her: Then, send it.

I quickly send a message and then run into the kitchen to stir my chili.

Three days pass and we’re on the phone again. It feels like the end of the conversation because of all the silences.

“So what else has been happening?” she says.

“Nothing much…oh, wait, I forget to tell you. He replied to my message.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

“Woman, don’t make me beg. Aaand…?”

“And nothing. He replied. I smiled, put my phone away and ate my chili.”

Other posts in my Evolution series:

• The evolution of a dumped women’s thoughts
• The evolution of desperation
• The evolution of confidence
• The evolution of perspective

When I first invite friends over to my house, I give them directions for the longer route. These directions include main roads that everyone knows and landmarks that are real landmarks. I tell them to turn left at Euro Bank. I do not tell them to turn right at the pink house where my high school crush lived.

There are few people who have insisted I give them shortcut directions on their first time. Without fail, it’s taken them longer to get here. They inevitably get lost, frustrated and arrive saying: “Where on earth do you live? I have no idea where I am.”

But for all the rest, it’s only when they’ve been to my over ten times, once I’ve shown them my favourite roads, taken them for a walk on the mountain, explained where we are to the rest of Athens, that I’ll mention the short cut.

“You know, you can also come this way. It’s much faster and there’s less traffic.”

I’ll even show them when I’m in the car with them. I’ll point out my mnemonics. .

“See this absurd house that is trying really hard to be the Parthenon? It’s just plain wrong. Wrong house, you turn right.”

So for the life of me I can’t understand the reason that I don’t apply the same logic in dating? Why did I spend all of my 20s, trying to take a shortcut to a relationship?

I slept with men before I trusted them, I shared my past openly to create a forced connection and I showed them all my secrets to create a false sense of intimacy.

And then I was shocked when these men seemed lost, confused and said, “This is just too much work.”

You don’t get where you’ve never been by taking a shortcut you’ve never taken. The long, slow road to my house is so much easier to get to than its shortcut. The shortcut may be faster but there are dozens of potholes and one very dangerous blind spot. If you’ve never been on this road, it’s so easy to miss the stop sign.

And when it comes to dating, the stop signs I never saw while I happily pursued my shortcut, are the ones that would have saved me from so much sadness.

Are you guilty of taking shortcuts to a relationship? Did you miss the stop signs?

Last night I found myself at an exclusive resort. Someone was getting married and everyone I have ever met in my life was there. They were all in different rooms having fun, except for me. I was running through a long, dark hall way searching for someone; a diaphanous scarf billowed behind me as I ran. When I reached the end, I pushed open a door and sun light exploded into my eyes.

That’s when I saw him.

He was on a mellow yellow inflatable lounge chair floating in a turquoise pool. In one hand, he had a cocktail; his other was leisurely picking a peanut out of a bowl perched on the arm rest. I watched him as I doubled over, clutching my stomach and trying to catch my breath. Finally, he noticed me. He gave me a half of a side nod and gestured for me to join him.

I walked into the pool, my dress rising in the water around me and got on the inflatable chair. I curled myself into him and fell asleep. He didn’t move. Not even once. Not even a little.

The last thing I remember before waking up in my own bed and dripping in sweat was that part of my butt, ankles and hair were off the lounger and submerged in water: he hadn’t made any room for me.

I’m not surprised by this dream. When I was dating, I was that girl. I went too far and cared too much for the guys that didn’t want me. I spent sleepless nights thinking about all the reasons they didn’t want to be my boyfriend. I even wrote posts about it. I wanted to find a way to persuade these men to want me. Most of the time, this meant adjusting my own wants, and my own likes to fit their wants.

When I saw that there was too much hurt in my heart, I opted to let that hurt heal before I dated again. I didn’t quite declare an official man-hiatus, it just happened. I’d invested so much on other relationships that I’d forgotten the relationship I had with myself. My focus is on me and me now.

The other day I was listening to Derek from Social Triggers interview Ramit from I Will Teach You To Be Rich.

I was only half listening when Ramit said something so relevant to my dating life that I stopped playing Words with Friends and paid attention.

He said that he spends a lot of time telling people to unsubscribe from his site.

He explained that he works really hard on his material and that he wants readers who will spend an equal amount of time using it. He respects and values their time. If they don’t engage in it in the way it’s intended, he won’t be able to help them. He’d just be wasting their time.

“I’ve always been very clear- I’m not looking for everyone; I’m just looking for the right people.”

That’s exactly what dating is; looking for the right person. So why did I spend so much time trying to please the wrong men? Why didn’t I just tell them to unsubscribe from my life and find a better fit with someone else?

I continued listening to the interview. A while later they began to talk about pricing. Ramit suggested that you create the best product you can and then charge for what it’s worth.

Bells started ringing in my ears. When I was dating, I wasn’t charging for my worth. I took what I could get. And when you’re offering something for free, that’s what you usually get in return –nothing.

Last week, Danielle Laporte had a pay what you can day. The idea is that you offer her what you have. It’s a sweet deal. But, then I noticed something inspiring. In the small print she wrote that she reserved the right to deny your offer if she felt it was too low.

Girl crush alert! Now there’s a woman that respects herself and her work. She knows exactly what she’s worth and she’s not afraid to ask for it.

Then there’s me. I’m the girl who let guys off the hook when they didn’t follow through their words with actual action. I was over-forgiving. I’d let them come over, eat my food, sleep on my couch AND get mad at me because I wanted to talk to them. Inevitably, I’d end up apologizing (to them and myself) for wanting too much. I’m not cheap but that’s the way I acted.

(Can I go back in time and slap myself please?)

I’m not that woman anymore. Now I’m quite happy to let a man unsubscribe from my life if I see we’re not the right fit. I’m not looking for everyone. I’m looking for the right person. I’m also beginning to judge my own worth (it’s neither inflated nor deflated) and I’m convinced that when the time comes I’ll charge the right amount for what I have to offer.

I’m also not the woman in that dream anymore. Now, I’m quite happy to tell a man to get out of my face and off of my sun lounger if the only thing he has to offer me are peanuts.

Your thoughts?