Dear Douchebag

Christine Trapani
Jan 15 · 5 min read

What would you want to say to the person who stood you up? Well, since that’s now officially happened to me, it looks like I’m getting my chance. And it would open like this…

“Dear Douchebag”…

Admittedly, this is the first time I’ve been stood up. In my over 30 years of dating or being in relationships, or “whatever” — this is the first time. So I’m a bit in uncharted waters right now. But maybe I should consider myself lucky it hasn’t happened until now. Maybe in some way the odds were leaning towards it happening to me at some point. Soon. And after talking to my friends about this, I know I’m not alone; I’m actually in very good company. But I’ll tell you regardless — it really is a shitty feeling. No bueno.

Come on, could you really blame me for using the “D” word? How would you refer to the turd who stood you up? In your own home. After confirming the time the night before. And then touching base again to confirm just a few hours before go time. When they knew you cooked a meal. And they even helped you decide the menu. Oh, and you’ve dated for almost a couple of months. Who the fuck does something like that? Well, let’s see. After careful consideration — that would be a complete douchebag.

In all seriousness — there really is not a better word to perfectly capture the attributes of someone capable of such shitty behavior. I know you probably don’t believe me and see this strictly as the rantings of a pissed, bitter woman. So, go check for yourself. Aside from a syringe used for douching a hoo-ha — a douchebag is “an obnoxious or contemptible person, typically a man.” And this is according to Oxford Dictionary. And we could even substitute the word “contemptible” with terms like despicable, detestable, shocking, unspeakable and offensive. Yeah, I think those terms fairly sum up the qualities of someone capable of such a pussy move. No pun intended.

Until you’ve actually been stood up, you really can’t fully understand how it feels. And in case you haven’t experienced this humiliation, I’ll do my best to illustrate.

First, you feel like perhaps there was a miscommunication.

“Did I get the time wrong? We said today, right?” Yes and yes. Of course.

Then you start going back to texts to double check (what you know is already true). You give the person the benefit of the doubt and then move on to make up potential scenarios. That could possibly make them less douchy.

“There must be traffic. Or an emergency. Oh God, I hope he wasn’t in an accident.” That would be NO, NO and NO.

And when you stop making excuses and realize “well, he just ain’t coming”, you feel stupid, mad and embarrassed. Pure humiliation. And anger. At him — but more at yourself.

“How could I be so stupid? How could I not pick up this might happen? Did I miss — or worse, ignore — signs right in front of me?” I guess that’s a risk you have to take when you try and get to know — and trust — someone new. So, as hard as this one is for me, I’m going to try and not beat myself up (too much) here.

It makes you question every move you made leading up to that point. It makes you really doubt yourself. Even the most confident person can feel this way. That in some way you may have been responsible for the douchy behavior of others.

“What did I do? Maybe I pushed him away when we had that disagreement.” Or worst of all….

“What’s wrong with me?”

Not a fucking thing that warranted this.

It’s a douchebag that should ask themselves that question. But, the thing is — they never would. They’re too selfish — and in this case too weak — for it to even dawn on them.

Wow, I just read all that back. And while I thought I was simply telling you all my latest tale in dating — unbeknownst to me, I think I may have actually just written my “Dear Douchebag” letter (with the exception of a closing, which could simply be “go fuck yourself”). Writing it felt good. Really good. Sometimes you just need to let it out. It was the therapy I needed.

Sometimes when you cook for a douchebag, getting burned is on the menu

After all this happened, I knew at some point I’d share this awful story. I allowed myself a couple of needed days to sulk afterwards and at some point shared my plan for this post with one of my dearest friends. We’ll call her “Friend A”.

Friend A: “Did you hear from this turd?”

Me: “No. Did you actually think I would? I’m fairly certain this pussy even blocked my number. If he changed his mind about getting together — or us in general — just say something and be honest. Even the morning of. I cooked brunch for this asshole. And burned myself in the process. LITERALLY. Seriously, this may be one of the rudest — and most hurtful things — someone has done to me.”

Friend A: “I’m so mad at this asshole loser. I think I’m just going to start calling him AL for short. He has no idea what he’s missing.”

Me: (Smiling) “Well, naturally. On both fronts. And very appropriate nickname. Thanks, Friend.”

Friend A: “I know you know this already, but it’s better you found out what you were dealing with sooner than later. He’s clearly lacking. Big time. So, when you write the blog, what’s the point going to be? How will you wrap it up?

Me: “Hold on a sec — I just got a text.”

No, it wasn’t from Douchebag. It was from someone I’ve dated before — and while things never ended on poor terms, or really ever quite ended (or started much, for that)— I would have never expected to hear from him. Especially right then. But at that moment, he gave me exactly what I needed. A smile. Very simple. Nothing more, nothing less. And it was perfect for that moment when I needed it most.

Me: “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Friend A: “So how will you wrap it up?”

Me: “I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

So, you decide.

But whatever you decide, know this. You’re not alone. Even when you think you are.

Christine Trapani

Written by

Founder of Herwork Coaching, LLC

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