To quote Amy Adam’s Enchanted, “When you meet the someone who was meant for you,
before two can become one, there is something you must do.” A kiss. Simple but sweet, sometimes
awkward, hopefully all encompassing. Whatever your encounter with one may be, it is an
experience, an experience that I have yet to have. Meet me, an eighteen-year-old freshman in
college, and I have never been kissed.
Unfortunately, being “innocent” in any capacity in our society, becomes a personality
trait. It’s the Scarlett letter of inexperienced girls, guys, or however you identify. You start to wonder,
is it me? I’ve heard the phenomenon that every generation grows up a little faster than the one
before. Whether that be because of social norms, technology, or the nature of society, it may be
true. And if it were to be true, then it would make sense how behind someone would feel when they
have not progressed to a level that their peers have—in high school, or even possibly middle
school. It’s not like I haven’t wanted to be kissed—trust me. It’s that the opportunity never arrived.
Am I not pretty enough? Do I give off the wrong aura? Am I destined to be alone? It’s a never-ending
cycle of depleting self-worth due to the pressure to experience something that we view as a rite of
passage.
So where am I now? Hinge. After a night of back-and-forth lore re-telling’s, my roommates
and I all decided to download hinge for “the bit.” Addiction is a dangerous game, and what’s more
addicting than attraction? Scrolling has become second nature, and flirting has become more
natural. Harmless online flirting is the key to success. Being able to have an outlet for the side of
yourself you haven’t explored yet.
I met this girl through Hinge after she responded to “my typical Sunday looks like…” prompt
which consisted of “me reading a book and listening to Etta James in the background.” She
proceeded to get my number, and we planned a date. The quick recap goes a little something like
this. Girl meets girl, they walk 20 minutes to the restaurant, girls sit down at restaurant which closes
in an hour, conversation doesn’t dull, friend zoning creeps in, girl (her) suggests we walk to the
water, conversation carries, it’s late and both girls decide to walk back, there is an awkward
goodbye and no moves were made, girl (me) immediately calls her best friend once other girl has
entered the train station. My answer to “how was the date?” was “I have no idea,” and “it was fine.”
For a person who has never experienced being perceived in a romantic way, I found it hard to live in
that role. I started to think, can I be that role for other people? Will I let someone perceive me as a
lovable entity beyond the constraints of friendship?
I think part of me knows that I wasn’t attracted to her in the first place, I just wanted to test it
out. No harm, right? Maybe she picked up on the fact that I had never been on a date before, I
couldn’t tell. Throughout the date, I became too acutely aware of the lack of eye contact I make
with people, my body language that might have been saying “don’t come closer,” or that small part
of me, the part that was curious, that pleaded “please, please come closer.” I concluded that I don’t
think I feel the need to fill that gap in my life right now. So, I deleted Hinge, and figured, if it comes
naturally maybe I’ll be more open to it. I sighed and set my phone down, happy with my conclusion,
when I saw my screen light up like the first attempt on the lights of a Christmas tree, and there it
was—a PowerPoint presentation from a Hinge man.
I didn’t think he’d actually do it, but I was wrong. He gave me 10 slides–transitions, images
and videos, humor, and a question of a date at the end. Once again, I found myself knowing that he
wasn’t my type, but I thought, for the plot? So, I said to no one in particular, “Coach, put me in.”
In my waiting for this date to come, I recognized a pattern. I didn’t find this guy attractive
either. I realized, as I told my friend, “I don’t engage with people I find attractive because then I will
think they are out of my league,” and “being with someone who isn’t attractive to me is what I
deserve.” I wondered where this mindset derived from. I concluded that it was high school. In high
school, no one verbalized their interest in me. I never received any form of validation or
encouragement for my looks, my personality, or anything else. That does something to a developing
mind, especially a girl who has seen through media that she is there to be wanted, and if she’s not,
then what does she have? I scoured through my memory and found a sad truth. Not only did I not
send any likes to Hinge people that I thought were attractive, but even if an attractive person sent
me a like themselves, I wouldn’t match with them. It’s a fear of being seen and then being rejected,
really. I can’t picture a world where someone sees me and stays, I just watch reruns of them
walking away.
So, If I didn’t self-sabotage and I went for what I truly wanted, what would I find? I want
someone who gets my humor and can make me laugh so hard I cry, I want someone who will make
me feel at home when I hold them, I want someone who will be my strongest supporter, someone
who holds me at the highest regard but can call me out because they want the best for me, I want a
creative, I want someone who’s grounded, I want to love their smile and get lost in their eyes, I want
them to go to yoga sculpt with me, I want them to midday nap with me, I want them to love my
favorite movie and learn the lyrics to my favorite song, I want them to be honest in their
imperfections, I want them to understand where I come from, I want them to see me and stay. Is it
too much to ask? Are my expectations cursed by the romances I’ve read and the fantasies I’ve
dreamt. Maybe. Yet, I’m so fulfilled by the friendships in my life, so why shouldn’t I expect someone
to sweep me away with emotions I’ve never felt before.
All that being said, there is a beauty in the simple, raw, awkward state of saying goodbye to a
girl you just met at the train station or the uncertainty before meeting a boy who took the time to
make a PowerPoint for you. It’s all just an experience. Maybe there is some depth to “the bit” and
“the plot.” Maybe it’s okay to be the topic of a story someone tells their friends about a funny Hinge
date they had, a fleeting moment. Maybe, just maybe, it will all be okay. I don’t know. I don’t have all
the answers. Heck, I’m just a girl who’s never been kissed… yet