April 19, 2016

A Letter to My Future Date.


Dear future date,

I feel that—as the honest person I pride myself in being—there are some things you need to know before meeting me.

I am broken in ways you would never imagine.

There were so many boys and men that hurt me before, and the one who hurt me the most was the very first man who was supposed to protect me unconditionally. Much of the hurting has been done by myself.

To be fully honest, I am tired of hurting. I have developed a huge intolerance to the bullsh*t some men are willing to say in order to get one thing or another.

I know this is some serious sh*t I am telling you—most of you will probably have exited this page by now, already choosing to move toward an easy going girl. But for those of you who are still reading this, maybe this means you are as broken as myself—but who am I to judge you?

If you are still here, you need to learn I’m not willing to hurt any longer—nor am I the kind of person to have sex without any feelings. I am not the kind of person to do “anything” with someone unless there are some feelings involved. Throughout the years, I’ve learned that time is precious and there are so many things that we need to do for and with ourselves, that there is no need to be with someone if you don’t really want to.

If they don’t really want you, why waste your precious time.

There was a time not long ago, when I hated being single. It was never a question of having a certain dependency on men—it was more like a chronic pain I felt whenever I need to deal with myself. For someone who considers herself intelligent, I still have no idea how to improve my poor self-esteem.

I don’t have a clue how to love myself.

I had my first kiss (the one after which you need to consider yourself lucky if you hadn’t ended with broken teeth) when I was 14. For 10 full years I’ve been in and out of relationships with more guys I’m proud to admit.

It took me six years of being young, hopeless and stupid and another four years of a serious relationship to be where I am today.

I feel I am too young for a serious relationship, yet too old for meaningless dating. I feel I know too little about myself and life in general to venture in a new relationship, yet I know too many things about human nature and my own flaws to even dare meeting you.

The truth is that I am not even 25 and I already feel I have zero energy for dating. Zero. Somehow between stolen kisses and sleepless nights waiting for his calls, I became exhausted. Somehow, all those days waiting for him to come and fill up the void and all those nights where I had to compromise who am I and where I stand as a human being just so I won’t end up sleeping alone drained all of my energy.

I will be honest with you: I will always be that person that dreads sleeping alone. My insomnia is derived from being totally terrified of having to stay alone in complete silence with my thoughts only. For someone who claims to be an introvert and a loner, I have no other choice than to admit that sleeping alone is a killer.

Throughout the years, I’ve done almost anything to not have to deal with the “voices:” from reading until my eyes hurt to drinking myself into oblivion; from getting into relationships with men I didn’t even stand looking at, to sleeping with guys who I knew will become total strangers in the morning.

Looking back, the quest of my life seems to have been finding a miraculous cure to not have to face my own demons—my feelings.

That’s why I think it’s only fair that you know some things before meeting me. That day when I (finally) got my own room and moved out alone—while I was carrying 40 kg Ikea furniture without anyone there to help me—I realized how imperative it is to become more selective with people I let into my life.

My room, my furniture, my time, my space, my body, my feelings—I became what I am today through years and years of hard work that had nothing to do with others, and if someone wants to be part of that, they really need to be part of that.

My mother spent so many days fully dedicated to myself and even more nights trapped in a vicious marriage for me; my dad left scars I am afraid to show even to my friends; my friends were there for me whenever I, myself, had no desire to be; people I will never meet wrote songs and books that shaped every centimeter of my soul.

If you want to cross my door, you need to be part of all of that—not as my lover, not as a date; If you want to come, you need to do it as our dearly deceased Kurt Cobain used to sing :

“Come, as you are, as you were, as I want you to be. As a friend, as a friend, as an old memory.”

Dear future date,

I’ve been wearing my heart on a sleeve ever since I’ve known myself and I realized now I need some distance. The truth is that I don’t want you to be my date, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you. If you want to come, my door is open.

Don’t come as a friend—I already have enough of those.

Don’t come as a lover—I’ve had even more of those.

Come as yourself, the miraculous, beautiful human being I know you are and be prepared to see me for who I truly am. Just another humble soul in a constant search for redemption.



Author: Georgiana Preda

Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: Flickr/photographymontreal 

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