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WILSHERE: Revisiting a forgotten process

When I stepped off the London Tube, I had no idea what to expect. I was meeting up with a half-Irish, half-British man as part of my “say yes and try new things” attitude that came with my study abroad acceptance. We were going on a date. I knew the date was going to be interesting when he commented about how much he enjoyed my “accent” upon meeting each other. He later started a sentence with the words “now it’s my time to lecture you” and proceeded to give me a verbal history of Italian politics from the past 200 years. Politics aside, and there was enough talk of it to last me the next four years, I was excited at the prospect of going on a date in a new country.

I had forgotten about the whole process of it all, forgotten about the excitement that resides in my stomach before a date and the relief that ties over me when I realize I am going to be okay. I had convinced myself that if all else failed, and this was an example of the most horrid date one could be on, then I would have that experience. If it went well, I would add it to my list of good dates, and subsequently, compare all future dates to that one. What I found was that it fell somewhere in between.

The date was a nice experience and practice in the form of dating. I had forgotten the whole process and everything that went with it. Going on this date meant that I was once again putting myself out there, opening myself up and allowing myself to be vulnerable. Although the conversation never got deeper than basic facts and anecdotes and the real connection wasn’t there, I was excited at the whole process of it. To try and fail is a beautiful thing because it makes success much more apparent. Not having a real connection with this guy means that I’ll know when I do have a real connection.

It was good practice to go on a date where I didn’t fully connect with the person. I had only ever been on what I’ve considered great dates up until this point. I always knew the people I went on dates with to some extent, some sharing history and others just sharing history class. This was all new territory for me — a foreign girl in a strange pub with an almost complete stranger. He was attentive and kind, talking about his Italian childhood, disdain for school and intense passion for baseball. We found ourselves in an interesting territory — we had more differences than similarities.  There were no lulls in the conversation but I can chalk that up to both being a public relations major and once having been described as someone who could talk to a wall. As long as air existed in my lungs I would find something to talk about and someone to talk to. Personality strengths and hubris aside, the date was good practice.

It wasn’t a bad experience aside from his lecturing and his commitment to calling me “girl” before telling me everything I’d have to do when I visited Italy. Somehow the dating culture abroad already feels more casual than what I’ve experienced back in the United States. The guys that I’ve interacted with here are more direct and usually forward with their intentions. Maybe it’s just my experiences, and perhaps it’s the college culture, but there is a difference between dating here and in the United States. It boils down to timing. Everything feels slower paced here, whether it’s the food, waiting for the bill or the dating attitude.

Although I am not looking for a relationship with anyone other than myself while abroad, the experience of this date felt refreshing. It felt almost cathartic to go on a date with someone new, checking my expectations with my coat and leaving them at the door. Knowing I had no expectations meant that I could just enjoy myself and the company of someone who is different than me in many ways.

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Meredith loves telling stories and pretending to be Carrie Bradshaw, minus the man and comfy NYC apartment. She, however, eats enough brunch to cover all six seasons. When she's not drowning in 16th-century literature, she can be found lamenting over the bad grammar and bad boys in her middle school diary.
Find her on twitter @merewilsh or email her mwilsher@bu.edu with all your love musings or questions.

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