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PUT DOWN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!

LET ME START BY ADMITTING SOMETHING….

I love my iphone.

It’s an iphone 5. Next to my macbook, it’s one of my favorite possessions.

If an electronic device could complete me, it would be my iphone.

It helps me do my banking, connect with friends, run my business, play walkie talkie with my life coach buddies, work out, listen to music.  It is the Beloved Wesley to my Buttercup.  I fucking love it.

However, I have also noticed that it is also really kicking my ass and holding me back from the real world.  

You remember the real world, right?  Where things like making out, water fights and other cool shit happens?  Man, I love making out.

More importantly the real world is where we all have conversations where we can actually see people’s faces and hear  intonations in the other person’s voice. You know, so we get what’s being said and don’t just jump on the crazy train?

Fuck.  Trust me, I get it.  Dating can be hard.  But I gotta tell you, we make it harder than it is.

Gather round boys and girls, it is story time where Kira shares her own personal tales  and looks like an asshole for your learnin’.  It’s kind of like Reading Rainbow….but for singles.

Let’s start at the beginning (it’s a very good place to start.  Yes, that just happened.)

I kinda like a boy.  A whole lotta kinda.

It’s new, it’s fresh, it’s unexpected and I’m currently somewhere in-between the 24/7 excited/nervous phase.

But as I put myself out there for the first time in a long time, fuck if I’m not learning a shit-ton about myself.  It is always an eye opening personal case study. I examine what I think I have figured out and make huge realizations about lots of stuff I haven’t!

And this time it is about fucking texting.

TEXTING!!!!  (Shaking fists at the air)

Something I have been so dead against in dating and relationships and it somehow snuck in.  I don’t even know when or where, it just did.

Most of my clients will tell you that when they first start dating, I advise to not use text.  Maybe a “I’m running late for dinner” kind of text but nothing that has emotion or is communicating anything that could be misconstrued.  Because shit – if that isn’t the stupidest reason for a new, exciting something to end!  Because of a fucking text.

But there I was, phone in hand last week, wondering where the fuck my texts were.

Guilty.

Now, of course, I am reasonably smart at this dating thing.  I am open, honest, try to be kind in everything I do AND keep my expectations in check.

But after 48 hours of not hearing from him….I had somehow managed to convince myself that he wasn’t interested.  I was kicking him to the curb in my mind.  Super annoyingly talking my friends’ ears off.  Talking about “concerns” that was really me trying to talk myself out of “the like.”

But here is the crazy pants part!  Only 2 days before, he had told me he was interested, numerous times, in real life!!!! Face to face!  With the sweetest kiss in the history of mankind to follow it!  

What the fuck is wrong with me???

Here I was, believing bullshit stories in my head about what the proper amount of texting is – without sharing it with him!

This is where I went wrong. It wasn’t about the texting.

I had let my fears in, and kids: they have no place hanging out in your head when you are trying to create love.

All of my past experiences had crept up on me. They flashed in front of my eyes, reminding of the guys that never called.  Never followed up.  Never did what they said they would do.  It was like a bad movie starring Mindy Kaling and Paul Rudd.  And I love Paul Rudd.

But looking at the male gender as a whole is pretty fucking stupid. No two men are really the same. And god knows I don’t want to be clumped in with the type of women who say their sole purpose in life is to be pampered and wear shirts that say “Princess” or “Diva”.  Yuck.

So when I finally saw him a few days later, it took everything in me not to make some snarky comment about not hearing from him much this week.  I checked myself before I wrecked myself. I did bring it up. But in a nice way. And you know what? He just looked at me and plainly said, “I am just not much of a texter.  I should have told you that.”

Fuck.

All of that inner turmoil for nothing. But even though the subconscious sabotage made an unwanted appearance, I am now able to jump off the crazy train and buy the big girl ticket for the sane train.  It’s never too late to ride the sane train. So I walked my talk, I did what I would tell my clients to do. I said “thank you for letting me know that” and then I asked him for a favor.  I let myself be vulnerable and asked for what I knew I needed.

I said, “for my sanity’s sake can you check in every day?  Nothing big, just to let me know you are thinking about me and still interested.”

He said yes.

It is surprising how smooth things can go when you ask for what you need 🙂

What are you not asking for?   Why the fuck not?