- Join Holly as she searches east Auckland for love and connection
In which Holly’s insecurities get the better of her…
We’d agreed to meet at Grangers. For personal safety reasons, I always do first dates somewhere public, and on a fine afternoon, there are few spots prettier or more public than that thriving Half Moon Bay taphouse.
I watched the boats bob in the marina until a tall man approached the table.
If I were a cartoon character, Reader, you’d have seen the eyes pop out of my head.
You would’ve heard that comical cartoon horn… Ah-Ooh-Ga!
I’d admired his photos on the dating app, but he was even more handsome in person.
Of course, even the best looks are meaningless when personality is lacking, but this man was wonderful – a gentleman.
He impressed me with his unpretentious manners and flattered with thoughtful compliments.
We both appreciated architecture and the seaside. We shared similar values.
Our preferences and natures dovetailed. We laughed at each other’s jokes. It was all going swimmingly.
Yes, of course there was a hitch! He was a tourist, due to fly out the next morning.
He was staying at a hotel in the city and (coincidentally) so was I.
With a speaking engagement that night and an early meeting the next morning, I’d simplified traffic matters by booking a little staycation.
With puppy-like eyes, he pleaded with me to let him know if my event finished early enough to join him for a late supper.
Let’s make the most of our time together, he said.
Well, Reader, we had a brilliant evening. As we kissed goodbye, he begged me to stay in touch, saying that he’d love to reconnect next time he visited.
The next morning I rose, still smiling, and went into the bathroom to shower and dress for my meeting.
While doing so, I dropped the lid of my lipgloss into the empty waste basket.
“That’s odd,” I thought, bending to retrieve it.
One of the realities of being non-monogamous is that I’m sometimes judged for how I love, but the one thing I’ll never catch heat for is being irresponsible with my health.
I rarely engage in casual liaisons, but if I do, I’m doggedly insistent on safety.
I knew we’d used protection… and yet there was no wrapper. Where was it?
Curious, I checked the other bin, to no avail. Was I going mad? I was positive we’d practised safer sex.
Then, it dawned on me – he’d taken the condom with him.
This isn’t as uncommon as you might think. Having dated athletes before, I knew that taking a used condom and disposing of it separately is sometimes just habit.
According to a basketballer ex, this practice has long been promoted in American sport as a precaution against unforeseen paternity cases.
Still, though athletic, this guy wasn’t an athlete, and I felt a sting of indignance.
How arrogant was he, thinking I’d want to steal his seed?
Why had he gone to such lengths to convince me that we’d had a real connection, if he doubted me so?
If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s being manipulated.
Obviously, his pleas had been false, and I’d never hear from him again.
He’d just wanted some wham, bam, thank you Holly.
My insecurities triggered, I doom-spiralled through my meeting and all the way back to Howick.
Then, Reader, I took a deep breath. I was okay. What mattered most was that we’d been safe and had fun.
All is not fair in love and war, and it can be easy for our insecurities to take over.
In the world of modern dating, we’re always running the risk of getting our feelings hurt or hurting someone else’s.
Accountability matters, of course, but sometimes we need to pause and remind ourselves that other people’s behaviour is theirs to worry about, and ours is ours.
Otherwise, we risk becoming bitter.
I thought of two of my favourite quotes… “be curious, not judgmental” (often falsely attributed to Walt Whitman), and the wisdom of Maya Angelou: “Have enough courage to trust love one more time, and always one more time.”
So, I calmed myself, and remain, darling Reader, your friendly neighbourhood hopeless romantic.
As it turns out, we did stay in touch. I found out later that he’d taken the condom out of respect for the hotel cleaners.
We message every so often, and I look forward to the next time he visits.
Email holly@times.co.nz
Yours in love,
Holly