I’m Chubby, Broke, And Ready To Date


I’m 27, and I’m not the greatest looking gal.I’m not that feminine either. If I can avoid pants on weekends, I’m totally fine with it. I don’t like wearing make up, or shaving my legs, and I wear t­shirts with Sherlock and Doctor Who crossovers on them.

I like unicorns, castles, and I believe that schmaltzy stuff is ridiculous, but secretly, I love it. I read fantasy novels, and watch cartoons. I am basically an oversized kid trying to make it as an adult. I try to write to make money for my giant book collections, the fledgling beginnings of a library in progress. I’m broke
all the time, because life gets in the way with bills and rent and food and occasionally some drinking with friends.

Sometimes I wish my parents would let me move back in and just eat cereal on the couch, but I can’t because “adulting” is a thing and I have to get used to it.

I still want to date, though. And that’s ok.

Not checking Tinder, and not “Netflix and chill,” but date. Yes, date, in our hook­up
culture. In a world where 18 year olds look like they’re 35, and TV shows based on books where the character is supposed to be a dumpy 16 year old, and they look like a red­headed Kardashian, I still want to believe in good guys and happy endings. The romance you read about in books, and the kind from times past, where you see people marry at 18. and stay together ‘til their time is over. Together spanning decades, not minutes.

That’s the kind I’m talking about.

I’m not naive. I had great relationships in the past, and some hook ups (Thanks
Tinder, and bad decisions!). I haven’t found the one yet, and I’m pretty sure many people haven’t. But I want to keep searching even though I’m broke, chubby, and not at all greatly feminine. I’m trying to wade my way through a field of Jabba the Hutts and find my Han Solo.

I’m not dependent. I’ll wear my feminist tee to breakfast at a restaurant. I don’t expect to be swept off my feet with grand gestures, mostly because it’s expensive (I’d settle for a home cooked meal when i’m tired from work, actually). But I think dating still needs a champion. A meal, a walk, a movie, some making out, walking me to my door, and calling it a night. Wait for sex for a few dates. Go on random picnics, hold hands, read comics together, or listen to music in the car. Fly kites, go to museums, really get to know each other’s minds before we get to know each other’s genitals.

The best date I went on wasn’t even a date, we sat at a Starbucks and he got me a
coloring book because I said I wanted to do something I hadn’t done in a while. We skipped rocks, at a park,and went for ice cream afterward. He called it “hanging out.”

Why do we have a problem putting a label on it? No, we’re not hanging out, we’re on a date.

As awkward as it was for him to put a label on it, I needed a label. We “hung out” a few more times ‘til my prince ended up turning back into a frog. We didn’t end up together, We didn’t spend a lot of money (neither one of us had more than $20 bucks in our bank accounts), but it was so surreal to be with someone who actually wanted to get to know me and believed the same. It takes a lot of courage to be vulnerable with someone else (though surprisingly, not a lot to be naked with them).

If you want to find love, don’t “hang out.” don’t invite someone over to “Netflix and chill” Date. Date for yourself, Date because you’re worth it. Label it. Don’t let it stay in limbo. Don’t think about your Facebook status, Twitter, your pics on Instagram, Snapchat, or Kik. Don’t think about your friends, or what anyone thinks. Dating is something you have to be selfish with.

Because when you date, you have to give. so give yourself a chance. Keep your pants on and your mind open.