Dating Diaries: Episode 5
Happy Tuesday! Let me start by saying please excuse all grammatical errors as I’m working off of 5 hours of sleep from the weekend, whoops. It’s that time of the week to hear/laugh at another hilariously awful dating story of mine. This one is particularly entertaining to tell for many reasons. Y’all, it’s a different world south of the Mason Dixie line. Disclosure: this blog has lots of religion and opinions in it, please do not be offended in anyway. I'm simply trying to point out the differences that I see between the North and the South, but at the end of the day they're just my opinions.
Like every good bad dating story begins, I met a guy. Totally not my type, he was handsome, but here's the kicker, he was nice. For those of you wondering why that’s not a quality I search for in men, great question, glad you asked. I HAVE NO IDEA.
I am incredibly sarcastic, which from reading anything I’ve ever written; blog, instagram, starbucks orders, you know. BUT, the thing about nice guys, they can’t typically keep up with me (someone, anyone, prove me wrong). If I’m going to spew sarcastic nonsense every other line of our conversation I’m going to need you to be shutting that crap down from time to time. The person I marry will likely be the first person that can actually put me in my place (other than my blog editor, Jessica). PSA: To all the nice guys out there, thank you for what you do and I’m sorry for girls like me.
AND WE’RE BACK. He’s nice, handsome, and driven, what’s not to love? Nothing. It was going so well. Let me clarify so well for you. I watched a star wars movie because he liked it. I’d rather watch paint dry than watch any of those movies but I did because, say it with me ya’ll, love is so blind. So, gross cuteness, movie dates, good morning texts, and random pet names later we’re about two months in. He wasn’t feeling well so I drove out to meet him for a quick dinner and a movie. He took ME to Potbelly’s (yes I realize I'm sounding rather pretentious). For those of you who don’t know what potbelly’s is, it’s a sandwich shop, nothing special about it. In fact it’s probably my least favorite sandwich place in the history of this world. Was that statement dramatic? Yes. Was is mostly because of the series of events that took place there and less because their food sucks? Yes. Moving on.
While enjoying our sub par sandwiches we started to talk about religion. Now, when I moved to Texas I quickly learned that being religious is part of most people's everyday lives. For me, growing up on the East Coast I knew very few people that practiced religion the way it’s done down here. If you've ever been to Texas you'd know that their is a church on every corner. So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that it all came down to this. I was Jewish, he was Christian. Mind you, I knew he was relatively religious from the beginning but we seemed to have a very open conversation about that. Ultimately transparency just wasn't enough.
For me, religion is mainly cultural. It’s the foundation behind my relationship with grandparents, it’s knowing my old family recipes, it’s having an Auntie Sheila (because all Jewish families have the an Auntie Sheila, and she’s the best). Regardless, my Judaism does not come from the time I spend chanting prayers at temple or reviewing the most recent Torah portion (sorry grandma) it comes from my family and my values. I'm not saying that isn't true of the south, in fact, I would say it's probably exactly the same. It just looks a bit different in that most people are really eager to share with you how they practice, and I'm used to a more subtle approach. Neither way is right or wrong, just different.
The whole religion talk did not go nearly as well as it had the first time, and I was left knowing exactly what the outcome of the night would be. We were done. To be fair he never said to my face, “this over because you’re nose is big, and you watch your spending” but rather a goodbye text the day after the Potbelly’s fiasco of 2016. At the time it felt like the text was written to alleviate his own guilt for his change of heart, with a few sweet tidbits recognizing my beauty and humor (good move dude, good move). At the end of the day, I got dumped for being Jewish, how freaking progressive.
Please get that ^.
All in all, I have nothing to share with you as far as lessons learned, inspiring, I know. It’s a dog eat dog world out there for a tall Jew like me. No, I'm kidding, we can always learn things from the experiences we have, sometimes it just takes a bit to figure out exactly what we needed to understand from each situation we're placed in. I learned that although transparency was key, it's not a shield. If my feelings are allowed to change towards someone, I need to allow the same grace for others. Kind of a plot twist that this guy isn't a jerk, right? I promise they aren't all ridiculous stories, just most of them. XOXO
