Category Archives: Relationships

Flirting and Why It Is (Potentially) Ruining My Love Life

I must admit, when it comes to the “dating scene” I’m not the most experienced fisherman at sea (is that an expression? …now it is). By that I mean that I have not gone on one date in my life. While I’d like to say I’m just too good-looking and amazing personalitied (not a word, but we’ll go with it) that the boys are being shied away, I know that the truth of my inexperience lies in my flirting techniques. Or lack thereof.

I just can’t flirt. It’s like my body rejects winking and seduction. Truthfully I’ve never really put in a real effort–but it’s so hard! In addition I feel like a creep when I do try. One of my (few) attempts was at a high school dance. I went up to this one guy while “Sexy Bitch” started playing and told him, “I once met David Guetta on a plane and he wrote this song for me.” Nope, I did not get his number. Or really an acknowledgement from him. Now that I’m looking back he may not have even heard me because the music was so loud…but the fact remains that it was not my smoothest move.

Being open to someone you’re interested in is so scary! In high school I forced myself to Facebook chat this one guy I liked. This sounds promising, right? Wrong. I was literally SHAKING as I typed. It was so bad that I had to take the time after writing a message to get rid of all the extra letters I had accidentally added (“Hooww aree yuouuu?>”). And while I would talk to him on Facebook at least two nights a week, I was so nervous I pretty much ignored him at school. I was glad when that crush was over…

Another problem lies in the fact that I just don’t trust a flirt. I just find the whole “art” deceiving. On top of that I’m very clueless. Usually I won’t notice I’m being flirted with, but when I do I decide that I hate it. For example, this is what happened at a club two weeks ago:

Flirter: Wow, you’re beautiful! What’s your name?
Me: Kiah.
Flirter: That is such a pretty name!
Me:
Flirter:
…do you get that a lot?
Me: Yes.

My immediate reaction was to shut him down. Honestly I do get that a lot, but most of the time I’ll say thank you. Knowing that he likely wanted to hook up with me (I’ve realized that most guys in the clubs I go to are only interested in that) was just a turn off and I wasn’t having any of it. I also shut down the guy that filled his place. (“I am Alessandro. You’re pretty, where are you from?”/”Canada.”/”No…background.”/”Jamaican, Italian…”/”I am from Ee-tal-ee!”/”Cool.”)

The key to flirting, or at least as I understand it, is complimenting. And I simply hate compliments! When someone compliments me I feel like they’re being insincere, which is why I’m very slow to compliment others. I feel like this started because of Mean Girls–to refresh your memory, Regina George compliments one girl on her skirt and immediately turns to Cady when she’s gone and says, “That is the ugliest effing thing I have ever seen.” So when someone calls me beautiful, I feel like they’ll turn to their friend the moment I’m gone and say, “Hey, I think we’ve found the Yeti.”

I want to write about another point, but I can’t think of anything. Isn’t flirting just compliments? That’s all it ever is for me. Or being creepy, as I proved with the whole “Sexy Bitch” fiasco.

I’m not too worried about learning to flirt and whatnot. It’s not like I’m gunning to have a boyfriend or anything (in fact the idea is just the biggest turn off for me). But it would be nice to not be a boy-repellent when I do give flirting a go.

How much simpler would the world be if you could just look at someone and know they were interested in you? I hate these games…I’ll probably never flat out admit to someone that I have a crush on them. Or at least not for a long time from now.

This has ended very abruptly. But I have nothing else to say on the topic. It’s too stressful.

-K

Separation

I thought I’d write about this now rather than later. I haven’t told a lot of my friends about it and so, by the time most know about this blog, this article will hopefully be lost amongst my many others.

Now I present my thesis…or question, as I’m more pondering than proving:

Does parental separation affect a person more if it occurs during childhood or during young adulthood/beyond?

As a child with parents deciding to separate, I imagine future relationships would be slower to develop of slightly restrained. How can one believe in a lasting love when the prime example presented during childhood has broken? I suppose that’s the main argument I see. I’m sure behavioural issues can develop depending on how the parents handle the situation. In the case that the child truly believes it’s their fault, perhaps more developmental issues can evolve.

Of course these are all inferences as my parents have stayed together as I’ve grown up. It’s only now, that I’m 19, they decide to end things.

It was Canada Day. My mom and I went out to rent a few movies that morning. In the car she told me she was nervous because she had to talk to my dad about something–something she refused to tell me. I had a sudden gut-feeling of dread, intuitively knowing what was about to happen, but I shook it off…

An hour later they called my brother and I to the basement, where they had been talking, and told us they would be separating. Mom’s plan was to move out at the end of the month. Dad might have to sell the house. It wasn’t our fault, my mother stressed.

I couldn’t speak.

Despite my intuition telling me what was going on, this was unexpected. I had walked down the stairs forcing myself to think they were going to tell us something else, like that we were moving. But in truth their separation is no surprise to me. I’ve been expecting it for years. I can remember when I was nine going camping with family friends. My mom was talking to her friend in our tent about how unhappy she was, thinking I was asleep. For the decade since I’ve known my parents aren’t right for each other. But as the years passed, I began to believe they’d make it. Or at least stick it out until my brother and I had moved out.

I barely talked to or looked at my parents for two days. Finally I broke my (moderate) silence and cried. Hard. My mom had no idea I was upset. My dad must have known as he always knows these things about me, but he didn’t bring it up.

I leave for university in six weeks. I’m only coming back for Christmas and by then everything will have changed. Though, biologically, I have a family, all that I know of this family will be gone. I’ll need to split my time between my parents, between their houses, between their Christmas dinners… I’m so alone, but for my brother, but we’ve never really been close and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

I resent my parents, not for separating, but for doing this now. I wish they’d gotten it over with sooner. Now I have no time to grow accustomed to this. No time to forgive them…

Happily this shouldn’t affect my character. While I’ve never been the kind of girl who wants to “find my Prince Charming,” I’m vowing not to make the same mistakes my parents did. I will never settle. Perhaps I’m slightly more skeptical, but the little hope I have for love isn’t completely lost. I’m already the woman I’m meant to be and I doubt I’ll change much from the person I am now.

But, gosh, do I wish it had happened sooner…

My tears about it have all dried up, but my hearts still hurts. And I don’t know how long it will stay broken. Or how far this will drive me from the ones I call family and the place I call home.