Category: Behind the Scenes (page 5 of 6)

I often get the question in what timeframe I was going to complete all the dates. I thought about this when I was shaping the blog. One year maybe? No, that was a bit too ambitious. I decided that there was no “deadline”. Nor did I want to pin me down to a frequency of writing.

Fast-forward six months in the game. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed in myself. Only six dates (actually eight but still need to write about my two last ones) in six months, that’s only one date a month. Who was I? An ugly, shy nerd without social skills? I could do better. But then I remembered that dating is not really a priority in my life, it is just one of the things I do. I was tempted to go all-in on the dating thing. It’s easy: you go out and meet people at social events at least three-four times a week, you collect phone numbers, you spend an insane amount of time texting and setting up dates. You steer each and every interaction into this blog thing. You try and try and try. It’s called the numbers game. However, it comes with a huge sacrifice in other areas of my life. One I’m not willing to make. Also, I don’t want to become “that date guy”. I’m not my blog. I in fact rarely mention my blog during conversations, I only bring it up when I’m actually setting up the date.

I also remembered that the blog is only about first dates. In between the “blog dates”, I was meeting chicks again and having dates I wasn’t writing about. At least not directly.

It all boils down, I think, to having character. What do I want to stand for, even if you feel the temptation and the pressure to go for the quick wins, the fast fame, the easy money. Every writer likes to spit out content for his/her audience to read. It’s so easy to sacrifice quality for quantity. Should I go on dates with people who just like the concept (for example, a friend who is in a relationship already)? Should I go on a date with someone who I’m actually not interested in? Do I really need to tell girls upfront about the blog, or why not just keep it entirely secret? Of course, I could all do this for more dates but I didn’t. I find it important to stay true to the concept and myself. I’m not saying I had the toughest challenge of my life but the devil did whisper in my ear from time to time.

I’m actually grateful that I experienced this feeling of temptation. It taught me how difficult it is, especially in more high-stakes situations, to stay true to yourself and how easy it is to make “mistakes”. It helped me to be more empathic with people making, in my view, unwise decisions. Doing the right thing is a constant battle. But it’s worth it.

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Based on numerous hours of extensive field study across the globe, both as participant and observer, I conclude that there are two universal truths concerning the dance floor:

1. Over time, a group of people form a perfect circle protecting a sacred middle space. Entering that middle space, either by accidentally slipping or getting pushed by someone, triggers a hysterical reaction and then the person in the middle is supposed to dance a solo.
2. No matter what song or style of music, the go-to dance move of a guy is to spin the girl around. I did not find a correlation between the attractiveness of the girl and the frequency of spins or amount of dance partners.

I find the spinning ridiculous. It’s cool if you do it once or twice on the right music. But somehow it has to turn into an endless audition for So You Think You Can Dance all night long. Guys are almost waiting in line to have a spin. So basic, so mainstream, ugh. There’s a saturation point for girls, to be recognised by the here-we-go-again face and deep sigh. I guess it’s because the guy is having the courage to dance with her, so she acknowledges his efforts. I’m pretty sure sometimes she lets herself be spun around out of pityness. It’s good though, I’d never stop someone from doing charity work. Good karma +69.

“You just don’t know how to have fun. You’re so serious and boring.” Yes, apparently I am. I actually prefer some dirty grinding but the #Me Too movement made things complicated. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing on the dance floor. I don’t do the spinning and there’s no way to have a decent conversation. So now I chose to mind my own business and do my own thing when I’m on the dance floor. That’s also why I like to go to techno parties. Literally everyone is there for the music and only for the music. There are no annoying group circles, mindless spinning or checking other people out.

In conclusion: more fist pumping, less spinning; more grinding, less spinning; more smooth dance moves, less spinning. Or just get into the zone at a techno party.

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I never met someone who liked someone who is dishonest. People want honesty. Gimme, gimme, gimme tha truth, nothing but the truth! So it seems, right?

I’m not talking about sharing this “authentic vulnerability” shit where you carefully curate and manufacture a story to generate oohs and aahs. I’m talking about the hard pills to swallow, the this-changes-everything moments, the conversations that require deodorant afterwards (I can recommend Axe Dark Temptation for our perspiring gentlemen and Fa Pink Passion for our sweaty ladies).

Contrary to what people say, a lot of people can’t handle the naked truth. Honesty is raw. Honesty is brutal. It does not matter if it’s delivered in a direct, indirect, soft or hard way. The fact remains that now you know that truth. For example, when doing this 69 Dates concept, it’s obvious that I’m meeting different girls. Apparently being open and honest about this is a reason for rejection (cheers to that! Seven times so far.). I mean, I expect singles to walk around the meat market from time to time, each at his/her own pace. Sounds pretty normal to me. Being secretive and maintaining a manipulative bubble of you’re special and the only one in my life, is however not too much to handle. Come on, are we really that naive to think we’re the only centre in their universe? Do we really (want to) believe this eyebrow-raising stuff? It’s so absurd to me.

Another example, finding out he/she banged 69 people (69,5 if you count the midget). Everything is going fine between you two, all is perfect and then boom, this single piece of information. Can you handle honesty?

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Almost one year ago I moved to my new place in Brussels. I thought “I have my own space now. I can decorate it as I want: exquisite, refined and Art Deco with a hint of Neoclassical Revival style”. Yeah, I know, classy as always. I never write Culture without a capital C. That’s how I roll baby. So I made a wish list of things I wanted to realise in my new home. From an extendible table to plants to a turntable setup. I believed all these things will allow me to enjoy my place to the fullest and I can host events and this and that. Guess what, it didn’t go as planned. (For Dutch speakers: Er was letterlijk niets van in huis gekomen.)

I have a plant and a couple of “art pieces” against the wall which I don’t really know if I’m noticing them. But I’m very happy at my place. Actually, all I wanted was my own, silent retreat. That wish list was not really contributing to my happiness. I don’t need the perfect place, a place that fulfills my needs, that’s perfect.

Nor do you need the perfect girl or perfect guy. You maybe want Mr. or Mrs. Perfect but it’s not necessarily what you need. Everyone has wish list. All those things may sound and look good on paper but I think only a couple of them really matter and make you happy. It doesn’t really make sense that you get what you want but not what you need, right?

There’s this ongoing trend to go harder, better, faster and stronger. Good is not enough, it has to be perfect. We’re so spoiled and individualistic and feel so entitled. Our egos, so inflated and validated. We often think we’re Rolls-Royce Phantom but in fact we’re Volkswagen Polo. It doesn’t make dating easier.

I find that there’s a difference in being picky and having unrealistic requirements (your wants) versus looking for alignment between yourself and others (your needs). Just let it go.

PS. I integrated some lyrics of three songs in this post. You get a cookie if you have found them!

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I promised myself that I would go public after three dates. We reached this point now. I have imagined several scenarios in my head. From getting shamed for what I do to going viral. I also accepted that actually no one would care. That’s fine. As long as I keep writing, even if it would just be for myself, I’m doing a great job. Every time I have the urge to check the website stats, I remind myself that I’m here for writing in the first place, not for tracking KPIs.

I commited when I bought the website domain. A financial investment became an emotional investment. Having a real website is a symbolic gesture that shit just got real. It’s there, it’s up, it’s official! No more turning back. I also decided on the 69 Dates concept, refraining from trying to look for something perfect.

A big frustration I had was that people misunderstood my intentions and the whole idea behind it. Maybe it was bad marketing from my side or their reading comprehension skills were below average or they got blinded by the term ‘dating’ or 66 other reasons. But then I realised that I just have to do my thing. You can never please, be liked and understood by everyone, it’s a lost cause. Now I let my writings do the talking. I’m going public, fuck yeah!

What I’m the most afraid of is that I’ll become that 69 Dates guy. That every interaction with a girl, every date is perceived in light of this project. This blog however does not define me. With or without, I’m still the same person. It’s like you think a friend who is an electrician would check out all the electricity cables, fuses and switches when he’s having dinner at your place. Of course, he will pick up on things because that’s his background but that does not mean he’s consciously analysing your electricity setup the whole time. We’ll see. Judge and get judged…

What I hope is that readers will enjoy my posts and maybe start sharing and interacting. But all in all, it’s pure entertainment, not some sort of gospel I’m preaching. 

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