I Deleted All the Apps and Started Dating Myself
After eight months of dating, I’ve realised that no one deserves my time right now more than I do.
I’m 37-years-old and it took me a long time to learn that I was worthy of self-care. I’d grown so used to taking care of everyone else that I no longer had any capacity to take care of myself. I stayed in an unhealthy relationship for longer than I should have. I spent every moment worrying about my sick child and when I wasn’t doing that, I was taking on work-load and emotional burden at my job that was far above my pay grade. If I kept my mind always focussed on others, I wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that I didn’t know who I was anymore.
This time a year ago, I was resigned to a future of indifferent persistence. Now, I am cautiously optimistic to a future of fulfilment and happiness.
Being single for the first time in 14 years has been a revelation in a lot of ways. The excitement of making eye contact across a bar and striking up a conversation (yes, this used to be the way it would happen!) has been replaced by picking up my phone 50+ times a day to check out a notification from one app or the other. Most of my free nights (I have my son half the week) were spent on dates or out with friends.
But after four months of the same old tedious routine, it felt like a waste of time/money/effort and I was starting to feel cynical and jaded. I fought my instincts though and held onto the idea that if I just kept at it a bit longer, I’d find someone worthy. Alas, no. My last app exchange was three weeks ago. It ended with me narrowly dodging the net of a catfish scenario with a “hot, bearded lumberjack type”. After that exchange, I not only deleted all of the apps from my phone (Tinder, Bumble, OKC and Happn), but I also unfollowed all the dudes on Instagram, deleted their numbers from my phone and cleared out my WhatsApp conversations.
And two weeks after evicting the apps and all the associated douchebaggery from my mental space, I suddenly had more to give…to myself. I realised that I needed to stop being so generous with my time to people who weren’t deserving of it. I’m worth more.
Instead of spending money on beers over awkward conversation with a stranger, I spend my money on exercise, notebooks, weed, art supplies, fancy bath products and my water bill. I’m having a lot of baths. I used to hate them, actually, and now it’s a core part of my self-care routine:
- Get up early, yoga (if it’s a child-free morning)
- Read the news, eat breakfast at the table (instead of at my desk)
- Work
- Exercise (indoor cycling class or HIIT)
- Eat a healthy, homemade meal
- Smoke (a bit) of a joint
- Run a bath and stay in there for as long as my playlist lasts
- Think of all the things I want to do
- Spend the rest of the night listening to music, writing and/or painting
- Go to bed early, sleep like a baby
Reading that list eight months ago would have scared the shit out of me.
Now, I’m finally honouring how valuable my time is and that it’s okay to be selfish with it. I’ve been weaning myself off my phone addiction, it’s been surprisingly effective now that I don’t have constant notifications prompting me to pick it up. Instead of mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, I lay in bed and write until my hand cramps. I haven’t written in years. Now I can’t stop.
It turns out that now that I’ve realised I’m enough, I don’t need the vapid gratification of likes and swipes to validate the fact that I’m fucking rad.
And, damn it feels good.