Surely we have all wondered how a man like me could ever find, catch, and marry such an indescribably remarkable woman as the one this blog depicts. Whether you’re a gentleman wishing to reproduce my success or just someone who perpetually craves detailed retellings of relationship stories, I am happy to oblige you on one of my favorite subjects and the unlikely circumstances that brought me into Rachel’s good graces.
Being the youngest of four homeschooled brothers, I entered adulthood with less experience among the gentler sex than most of my peers. That said, there were, of course, some advantages to growing up in a house with a 5:1 male to female ratio. For instance, it was strongly instilled by my mother that women were special and should be treated with the utmost respect, courtesy, and reverence, not unlike interacting with the pope, royalty, or a police officer. My combined timidity towards women and eagerness for their attention/approval made me extremely well-liked by them… akin to a brother or power-outlet or anything else you love having around but would never have sex with. Several years later, I was diagnosed as a “nice guy” with the primary symptom of acute “friendzonedome.” My lifelong dreams of marrying a nerd-tolerant goddess who loves Jesus and becoming a husband/father as cool as my own dad were in jeopardy. I was doomed to the long life of a hopeless romantic, forever cursed with an endless supply of romantic interests who would routinely have “just not quite enough” reciprocal interest to outlast the first couple DTRs.
Fear not, for the remainder of my story is not about the woes of being perpetually friendzoned or how to stop being categorized as a “nice guy.” For one, I’m in doubt that there is actually anything wrong with being a nice guy; as far as I’m concerned, everyone should be nice. Also, it would be a little dishonest to imply that every romantic prospect I had ended was because I was the one turned down, rather than the other way around or even something mutual. But I was DEFINITELY that perplexedly eligible bachelor of whom nobody could quite pin how or why I was always single.
By now someone must be wondering what made things different with Rachel. The funny thing is that by the time we met, I had tweaked my approach to dating in so many ways that it’s hard to say which modified behavior (if any) were fundamental to things working out for us. I’m inclined to suspect few or none of my “strategy” changes were even major factors. Rachel and I don’t believe in soulmates, but my honest guess is that if we had met in any other chapter of adulthood, things would likely have turned out roughly the same. In all my dating, I just hadn’t met anyone like her, not just because I liked her so much but also because she astoundingly liked that I liked her so much.
Previously, during a routine pep-talk with my second oldest brother after yet another failed romantic pursuit, I had come to acknowledge that I was indeed one who wears his heart on his sleeve. That is to say that I fell in love more easily than the 50th percentile. It makes perfect sense when you’re a romantic whose analytical mind always looks 3 steps into the future. To such a fellow, every girl he dates is potentially his future spouse. With that mindset, what’s wrong with falling in love early when you were probably going to have to do it in the future anyway? I’d like to give advice on how to avoid this rut, but I don’t think I ever figured it out. I don’t think I ever stopped wearing my heart on my sleeve where dating is concerned. I think things worked with Rachel because she knew I had a tendency to overthink everything and to be a bit extravagant in romantic gestures, and she knew I was mentally living in the next step of our relationship before we’d even gotten there, but she never gave up on me over it. The big difference with Rachel was that the night I first confessed I loved her, she confessed she wasn’t quite ready to say the same thing back; but, for the first time I asked a follow-up question: “Can you please at least tell me if you’re glad I love you?” This especially remarkable woman answered “yes”, and just a couple weeks later, we had started a relationship that would ultimately last until death do us part.
I now relinquish this blog back to Rachel.
Kommentare