What It’s Like To Be “Too Picky” In Dating

Originally posted on Thought Catalog:

Dima ViunnykDima Viunnyk

“Maybe you’re just being too selective,” my friend nonchalantly offers, bringing a Corona bottle to her lips. We are sitting in a bar, one of her choosing, and airing our grievances about life. She’s unhappy with her career, or lack of as she says, and I’m trying to solve my personal dichotomy of wanting love and never wanting to meet anyone.

“You’ve always been too picky.”

It’s not as if she’s saying something I don’t think myself. On nights I’m filled with a strange sort of jealousy that so many people in my life are coupled off, I begin fretting my love of solitude is a sign that something is wrong with me. And I can’t help from questioning my own behavior. You see enough Instagram posts of engagement rings from girls you once ran away from boys with on the elementary blacktop, you start to wonder.


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Nicholas Sparks Changed Me

True love.

Two words that, depending on your past you either “awww” at or scoff at. A concept that has almost been erased from the minds of human beings due to the world we live in today. Tinder, SnapChat, texting- all of these enemies have pushed true love into hiding, so far hidden that some might argue that it is gone.

I come from a generation that is notorious for instantaneous gratification. We want things and we want them now. We hate waiting. Dating, writing letters, meaningful, face-to-face conversations- too time consuming. The solution? Apps like Tinder and Grindr to show you people you can hook up with in a 5 mile radius; we create things to make “love” more convenient.

I get it. I am so impatient. I hate waiting. I like to be in control and do things when I want to. I hate succumbing to the idea that there is a bigger plan waiting for me because that means my fate is at the hands of someone else. Love is though; it is not at your control. It isn’t something that comes when you want it to. It is something that takes time and patience and faith, everything that goes against today’s mentality.

Sounds rough, right? So difficult and seemingly unattainable that most people settle for  knock-off versions of love because it is there and it is easy. BUT- it isn’t the real thing.

I have been in love and had my heart ripped out. I have been stood up and ignored by guys that I thought liked me. I have been overlooked and passed up. I have seen marriages crumble and end in divorce (my parents’ included). I have seen people stay in relationships out of complacency. Memories that are like flashing lights telling me to STAY AWAY FROM LOVE and retreat to the safety net of hooking up and having no feelings. It is easier and it is safe.

It isn’t love, though.

Now this completely contradicts my realist, independent girl attitude but I am choosing to wait for love. I am choosing to believe that it is out there. Blame it on the numerous romantic comedies I have seen or all of the Nicholas Sparks novels I have read, but I am waiting to find that one person. The person who makes you better. The person who sees that you’re a mess but chooses to stay. The person who lights up for you. The peanut butter to your jelly. Your soul mate. Your one.

I know love is out there. It can be likened to a rare gem, but true love is real. And yes, it is definitely easier and less life-altering and less time-consuming to settle or refuse to think love is fake, but it isn’t nearly as rewarding as being patient and being hopeful.

I am choosing to believe that love and romance and chivalry and kindness are alive and well. I am putting my faith in humanity. It might sound stupid and it might sound girly and it might sound pathetic, but I don’t care. I am romantic and apparently a bit more idealistic than I care to admit, but I am waiting. And once that wait is over and I have found true love, I can assure you that it will all have been worth it.


When I started this blog my freshman year of college, I didn’t really know what it would become. I just knew how much I loved reading blogs, how much I loved writing, and how I needed an outlet. While some people make a career out of creating a fashion-centered blog or a healthy living blog, it seems that mine has just become my own public diary- a place for me to confess my fears and sadnesses and joys. It might get annoying to some, or maybe it helps others feel less alone. I’m not sure. All I know is that writing how I feel is sometimes the only way for me to relax and cleanse my mind. So, if you are reading this, thanks for not judging and welcome to my mind.

Currently, my mind has been going down roads that have left me feeling less than. To fix this, I started reading a book about how to live a more grateful life. And for a day, I felt very enlightened. I have a roof over my head, friends and my health. It’s all good, right?


Now, that is not to say I am not thankful for those things, because I am. But I want more, and I am sick and tired of waiting.

I have heard time and time again that “the right man/job/life will come along” because “I deserve it.” It is out there, “I just have to wait.” But, is it? Do I deserve it? What makes me special? I look around and I see my friends with the loves of their lives, I see friends achieving their goals, and me? I am stagnant. I have none of that. Even sadder? I don’t even know what I want. I feel like I have waited so long for my life to happen to me that slowly my drive and passion have been stripped away and now I feel stuck. I feel like everyone is moving on with their lives and I am sitting here like a bump on a log. I HATE it.

How do I get to a place where I am appreciated and adored and important? I try to be positive and thankful  but that question keeps me up at night. When will I matter? When will I make a difference? When will I prove to the world that I needed to be here on this planet?

I guess all I can do is what everyone has told me to do- be patient. But how long should one have to wait? And what more can I do to be different and make the one life I have a great one?

just another statistic

I never thought that I would be sitting here, on a Thursday afternoon, as a college grad who is jobless and is interviewing later today to be a waitress.

I always knew that it was a possibility seeing that 12% of college grads are jobless, but I never thought that I would fall into that category.

But here I am, unemployed and looking for jobs in which I’ll be underemployed.

And I am mad. Mad at myself. Mad for thinking that if I believed hard enough that I would achieve my dreams of city life and having a job I love. Mad that I didn’t major in something with a bit more job security. Mad that at 22 I don’t have the resources to take care of myself. Mad that I didn’t stick it out at my old job and just dealt with all of the problems it created for me.

And I am sad. I am sad that I busted my ass at MU and now it clearly means nothing. Sad that apparently I am not good enough for any employer. Sad that I am not in a place financially where I can just say, “screw it” and figure it out as I go. Sad that being idealistic and thinking that I deserved and earned a good future has made me even more upset in my stagnant state.

But most of all, I am embarrassed. I thought that if I talked a big game, I would speak my dreams into existence. That if I said what I wanted and write down what I wanted and hoped for what I wanted, that the universe would align itself for me.

But who was I kidding?

I am nothing special. There are thousands of college grads way better than me that come from families with resources and connections whereas I am a mere, insignificant blip.

All I have ever wanted since I was a kid was a job that I loved. It didn’t have to pay millions, I didn’t have to have a Porsche or a vacation home- all I wanted was a job that made others feel good and made me feel good.

I didn’t think that was too much to ask for. I didn’t think it was selfish. I didn’t think it was unrealistic.

I am finding out that I was so, so wrong.


So a couple of weeks ago I posted the announcement on my blog that I resigned from my first professional job in order to follow my dreams and move to Chicago. I talked about seizing the moment and living the life you always wanted. I talked about being risky and being fearless. I said I want to make my own happiness.

But, I am scared.

I am so beyond scared of what lies ahead.

I know I graduated in December, but it still hasn’t felt real until now. I still live in Manchester with my best friend. I still live near all of my classmates. I still use the school gym. My routine hasn’t really changed. But we walk this Sunday. We will put on our cap and gowns and then in 2.5 hours our college career will come to an end. I will move out of  North Manchester and that will be it. I will never again live with my bestie, I will never again go to the local restaurant for half-price apps, I will never again get to help with Welcome Week, and I will never again get to embrace the college student lifestyle. You could say that I am having a hard time letting go.

Don’t get me wrong, I am excited for commencement. But I am so worried about what the word commencement actually means- “a beginning or a start.” New beginnings are so daunting. It was daunting 4 years ago when I started college, but I did it and built a great life around me filled to the brim with great people. I found my purpose and did well.

I don’t know if I have it in me to do it again.

When I was 18, I told myself I would not leave college in the state I am- job-less, apartment-less, and boyfriend-less.

I am all of those things.

And now I am so full of regret and embarrassment.

What if I can’t find a place in the city? When am I going to hear back from one of the 677 jobs I’ve applied for? What if I don’t ever hear back from any of them? Am I going to die alone? Ugh, do I have to go to these weddings this summer because I am a HOT MESS? Wait- do they have open bars?

Am I going to have to get a job at McDonald’s because I was an idiot and decided to try and follow my dreams?

So many questions. So much uncertainty.

Underclassmen- stay in school forever. And I’ll see you when you order that late night Big Mac.


Since I am wide awake right now due to a painful blister on my big toe that seriously has me considering an at-home amputation, I thought  it would be the perfect time to address some big news I have…

I am engaged.


I resigned from my first real job.

That’s not a joke. 

Now, there is immense worry and doubt and fear in my head from making such a risky decision, but it boils down to this-

I want to move to Chicago. I want to work in Chicago. So I am going to go to Chicago.

Did I plan on staying at my first job for only 4.5 months? No. But I do know that life is short and this position was not making me happy and Chicago has been a dream and I have the opportunity to live with one of my best friends and I needed to take the jump now.

I felt like if I never made this big move, the “what ifs” would gnaw away at me for the rest of my life, and I cannot have that.

So, I am stepping out of my comfort zone. I have no concrete job or housing plans yet, but I have faith that my safety net will slowly start to reveal itself.

If I fail, I can blame it on being 22 and dumb.

But if I succeed?

It will be a dream come true.

stay tuned…

Playing it safe

I honestly don’t know where to begin.

I have been trying to forget all of adulthood’s problems with binge-watching sessions of Mad Men, but I can’t ignore it  anymore- If I am the pot, my issues are the water, and it is boiling over the edges, pouring into everything around me. My concerns have now demanded my attentions, and I can’t sweep them under the rug anymore.

For the longest time, I have given my mom the hardest time for her poor decision making skills. It seems that she has never been able to just be impulsive and follow her heart. It has always driven me crazy. Countless times, I have wanted to shake her and yell- DO WHAT YOU WANT TO DO. From the outside, it seemed like the simplest thing in the world- do what YOU want to do.

Well imagine my dismay when I woke up and realized, I am the same way. I AM MY MOTHER.

I guess it is one of life’s inevitabilities that our personality traits are extremely similar to our parents’. It isn’t something we cannot avoid because it is woven into our genetics. It is science. It has to happen.

dammit dammit dammit

My mother (who I love so very dearly) has passed on the horrendous trait of thinking with your brain instead of your heart.

Now, why is this an issue? On the surface it seems like an amazing quality to have, and sometimes it is great. Thinking with my brain has allowed me a great academic career with no criminal record. But sometimes it is the worst. This issue of listening to your brain and not your heart tends to lead to complacency. It leads to always making the safe choice. It leads to blocking out your passions because your brain tells you diving into something new is absolutely insane. Familiarity becomes your safety blanket, slowly cocooning you up until you forget that following your dreams is even a viable option.

This characteristic of my mother’s (and now an admitted characteristic of myself) negates everything a 22 year old’s life is supposed to be- chaotic, risky, dangerous, passionate, adventurous, and lively.

It makes me over analyze everything. It makes me think that “good enough” is enough for me. It leads to a life of doing things that others dictate as good instead of what you deem worthy.

This quality has created a life that is good but not great. I have a roof over my head and food in my fridge. Technically, I cannot complain, but I want to. I want to scream that the fire inside of me is dying and if I don’t go balls to the wall and do something crazy I am going to lose it!

I am so torn though. I feel too obligated to people who wouldn’t feel the same about me. I feel far too comfortable being safe. But I am 22! Is “safe” how I want to describe my early 20s? Do I want to wake up in 60 years full of nothing but regrets? I have no one to worry about but me- shouldn’t I embrace this? And, if I embrace it and do indeed fail, is that the worst thing in the world?

Do what you want to do.

That phrase keeps popping into my head, and it should be the easiest mantra to abide by.

But why isn’t it? Why is it so hard to just do what I want??