Let’s be honest, when we’re young, we’re all enticed by a pretty face or a good body. Attraction is primarily physical, and to put it bluntly, at 18, most of us would shag anything with a pulse – opportunity is everything.
I cringe when looking back at some of the guys I fancied and gave my attention to! What the bloody hell was I thinking?!
Each to their own, but I was never a one-night-stand type. And not because I’m a tiny, delicate woman in a wheelchair, and therefore more vulnerable. That didn’t even occur to me. Oh, the naivety of youth!
Much later, I reluctantly signed up to dating app Hinge, which lasted a total of two months.
I tried modern dating (eurgh!), which, in my limited experience, seemed to consist of shallow idiots and the phrases “you’re no one’s type”, “get in the car!” and, “let’s book a hotel room”.
Responding with a firm no, I was told to “fuck off then”.
There are some lovely people out there!
On reflection, it probably wasn’t the best idea to tell one bloke that his car was shit, but it made me laugh as I rolled home alone in my powered wheelchair.
Growing up, a friend of mine repeatedly told me, “you need a big strong guy to pick you up and throw you around”.
I can see where she was coming from, but even as a young teen, I always thought, why? Don’t I just want someone to care?
Eventually, I did date that guy – the gym guy. And yes, for the first few months it was great. It was fun, liberating, and as another friend once said, “he gave you a sense of independence and adventure”. She was totally right.
In terms of practicality, it made life a hell of a lot easier for me, as a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user. For a fleeting moment, I thought that was what I wanted.
But, ultimately, I couldn’t rely on him and I felt very much like an option, a burden, and too much to take on due to my disability. He was physically incredibly strong, but mentally and emotionally very weak.
I didn’t realise it at the time, but at that stage, I was willing to accept the bare minimum – stupid girl!
I invested my time and energy in the wrong place, the wrong person.
The experience changed my outlook and, as cliché as it sounds, made me realise my worth.
You live, you learn, you move on.
As we get older, our perspective, values and priorities change.
These days, I can’t think of anything worse than attempting to flirt (awkwardly) with some Tinder clone. Quite frankly, I’d rather cuddle up at home, alone, with a nice cuppa tea!
At 33, my life certainly isn’t as I imagined or hoped for as a kid. Then again, with age comes the realisation that life rarely turns out as planned.
I’m no longer impressed by aesthetics. Trust me, a pretty face will only get you so far in life.
Above all, what I want is someone to care, unconditionally. Simple as that.
Don’t we all??
Don’t get me wrong, I cherish my alone time and independence, and I’m more than capable of caring for and supporting myself (mentally, anyway).
I’ve endured a fair amount of crap and spent over 90% of my life single. I’m certainly not the type to need a man.
I’m not interested in grand gestures, a lavish lifestyle, fancy house, or gym-bods!
But, for someone to choose you, want you, and stand by you, even when the shit hits the fan – especially when the shit hits the fan! That, to me, means the world.