This is a post about my love life.
Or rather…lack there of.
You guys, I have a confession…I recently joined the dating app, Bumble.
It was a moment of weakness. I was out with friends and my inhibitions were…how should I say…compromised. (Dang tequila…)
But my friends made a profile for me and…whatever. It’s honestly been kind of fun to just swipe through and see who’s out there.
But here’s the thing. Bumble is the dating app where women have to message first…in the first 24 hours, or the match goes away.
And if you’ve read even 5 words of my blog, I think you can probably infer that…..I hate that.
And you would be correct. I am literally as traditional as they come, so reaching out and messaging first goes against absolutely every fiber of my wannabe-June-Cleaver being.
But I eventually worked up the courage to do so. At first, my friends had to take my phone and message for me. Then, they would just be there for moral support, and finally, I have recently been able to message first.
So we’d have a couple back and forth texts, but as soon as I would get asked out for coffee or drinks, I would always, just…ghost. I’d not respond. Hang up. Goodbye. Nice knowing ya.
Because, honestly…dating is scary for me. Being in your twenties and being a virgin has a lot of, shall we say, complicated baggage to go along with it.
Sex is just something that isn’t even batted an eyelash at anymore. There’s the “three date rule” and nowadays, with the online hookup culture, that timeline has become even shorter.
No judgement here, it just isn’t on the table for me. I’m saving myself for my husband. Period. And I love that decision. But it just makes dating, well….slightly terrifying.
He’s going to dump me the second he can’t take me home. I’m going to be a waste of his time. He’s going think I’m a freak. He’s gonna think I’m a clinger. What am I going to say?
And honestly, I’ve been able to handle it with grace thus far. I’ve been able to communicate my decision, and the guys have been incredibly respectful. And stuck around.
Granted…I didn’t meet those guys on the internet…
But I digress. Back to Bumble.
There’s something about your mid twenties where things just all of a sudden get serious. It’s like overnight, everyone and their brother are getting engaged. Getting married. Announcing pregnancies. Buying houses. Becoming doctors. It’s like…there’s no more “when I grow up” mentality, because, news flash…you’re there, buddy. You’re living it.
I have always had a vision for my life. When I’d get married. When and how many kids I was going to have. You know…
And I’m rapidly approaching my “kill-me-if-I’m-not-married-by-then” age. As is…it’s two years away.
A little mental math here…one year engagement, at least one year of dating…
Anddddd cue the internal freak out.
So just this afternoon, I was texting my friends in a group chat, and half joked that I was going to hand over my Bumble profile to my mom. Have her manage it. Set me up with a gentleman that she thinks would be good husband material and the right guy for me.
And, of course, I was saying it mainly for the laugh. But I would by lying if I said I didn’t actually think about it seriously.
And as I was sitting in church today, my mind drifted back to that text message I sent.
And I realized…Holy crap, Caralyn. That’s actually what I’m supposed to do.
Not hand over my dating life to my mother. But to my Father. My Heavenly Father.
Here I am, giving myself a hernia about time tables and cute opening lines, and which emoji I should use to communicate just the right amount of cute/sassyness without being desperate or overbearing.
I can just hand it all over.
Let Him control it.
Now, I’m not saying that God is going to control my Bumble profile. Come on, that’s lunacy. But I am going to be open to the men God brings into my life. I am going to be open to being vulnerable and putting myself out there.
And I’ve decided that my goal for September is to go on one date. Actually say yes to an invitation (maybe from Bumble, maybe not) and be emotionally open. And I’m counting on y’all to hold me accountable to that. 🙂
I shouldn’t be scared to date because I’m afraid of a couple raised eyebrows at my choice to save myself until marriage. Clearly, the right guy will appreciate that, and I trust that God will bring that guy into my life.
I just have to hand it over.
Give Him the reins and as they say, fuh-gedduh-bout-it.
Anywho. That’s all for tonight. Thanks for being my personal relationship therapist.
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