Vowing never again

I have nothing against your taking a vow of chastity if you plan to enter a life of service and quiet contemplation, but why then did you buy a book about dating? This book is Dating For Dummies, not Dating For Those Headed For the Priesthood or a Convent, so cut it out. Don’t disguise a pity party in clerical robes. It’s okay to take a break from dating if you wish, but don’t kid yourself as to the reasons. Deciding that you’ll never date again may be a thinly veiled hatred of the opposite sex: Poor little you is just too fragile to get mauled by “them.”

Hey, if you’ve got a leaky pipe and you call a plumber and she doesn’t fix it, does that mean you just let your basement fill up? I think not. You call another plumber. (All right, smart aleck, I can hear you saying, “Okay, I’ll fix it myself.” Yeah, yeah, that’s the problem about analogies, not to say plumbing. What if I made it an electrical problem?) The point is, no need to blame, just figure out what’s going on.

Swearing off the opposite sex so that you can catch your breath or if you’ve just come out of a tough situation is not only fine, but wise. But don’t confuse this break with fear or hatred. You need to be aware of your feelings so that you can use that big fancy cortex on top of all your other organs — including your heart — to figure out what’s going on.

Throwing pity parties

You can see how viewing your life as a beauty contest is hopeless and selfdefeating and just a short step away from a pity party — you know, woe is me, no one likes me or loves me, I can’t get a date, I’m doomed to spending the rest of my life alone diapering cats, I think I’ll go eat worms. The self-loathing can move from face and body (I’ve got a zit farm and a spare tire that any sports utility vehicle would envy) to heart and soul (I’m not a worthwhile person) with incredible speed. If you really feel you absolutely must throw a pity party, stay in bed for a day, play sad music, feel incredibly sorry for yourself, and then cut it out. It’s boring and no fun to be around and very counter-productive to dating.

Why would anyone want to spend time with you if you are so self-centered and sad? . . . And if you’ve been saying the same thing to yourself — quick! — think of three cool things about yourself. If you can’t, call a therapist now.

I’m not kidding. Pity parties you can decline; depression is another thing completely. See the earlier sidebar “Dealing with depression” if you’re not sure whether you’re just momentarily down on yourself or truly depressed.

Comparing yourself to others

This is not about entering the Miss USA or Mr. World contest. This is about comparing yourself to Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie or anybody you see on a billboard or a magazine. Those photos have been retouched to a fare-theewell (trust me, I’ve met and interviewed bunches of these people). They’ve been powdered, primped, airbrushed, oiled, and lit so their own moms wouldn’t recognize ’em. Besides, if you read any of the fan magazines, you know that beautiful people don’t have all that easy a time dating either. So cut it out.

While you’re at it, don’t compare yourself to the homecoming court either, male or female, or to your next-door neighbor or your older or younger sibs or your parents’ wedding picture. You are who you are, and if you want to do a little fine-tuning there, fine. (That’s not to say, of course, that you can’t change and grow, and I’m not even against plastic surgery, but not before your first date, please. Know yourself, like yourself, and work on yourself.)

But you’ll only make yourself miserable for no reason if you continue to compare your own light to someone else’s bulb. You can choose to be either a pale imitation of how someone else looks or a vibrant, one-of-a-kind you. Guess which I suggest.