Why do we sabotage ourselves?

Why do we sabotage ourselves sometimes? You know what I mean - playing down our assets in our profile because we don’t want to “intimidate” men out there, having a mild flirtation with a really nice guy, then backing away from meeting them, or actually meeting someone, really fancying them, and then never contacting them again because “it would probably never have worked anyway”.

Sometimes we also set our dates up to fail – setting impossible standards for them to attain (they must look like Mr South Africa, drive the latest car and be able to rustle up an amazing meal). And if they don’t live up to this unattainable dream, we declare them “the weakest link, goodbye”.

On the one hand, these self-defeating actions have a kind of logic, borne out of awkward and painful experiences. They represent our attempts to protect ourselves from hurt. But the truth is, in protecting ourselves from hurt, we’re also limiting our chances for pleasure (no this is not a column about S&M or any of those variations but hey, to each his own).

Fearing a steep mountain climb may limit us from seeing the amazing view (I hiked to the top of the Drakensberg with a group of gay men once and, although my calves were never quite the same again, it was an incredible experience) and refusing ever to do drag (trust me, heels bring out the flirty Sex and the City girl in all of us, even the butch ones) may stop you from really discovering new-found respect for women.

Perhaps what’s really going on here is the fear of failure. What if I really write an honest and open profile and no one responds to it? What if I actually choose to meet the nice guy I’ve been chatting to for ages and he doesn’t like me in the flesh?

What if the first date was so amazing that I’m terrified it can never be that good and so I want to preserve the experience in glass, frozen forever in the twilight world where there is no pain? A lot of us fear failure because our childhood experiences – trying out for the heroine in the school drama and losing out on the opportunity to kiss the hunky lead – were not dealt with in a caring and sensitive way. And so we learn to close up and limit ourselves.

You see, to date is to risk. To risk is to be vulnerable, to be uncertain of the outcome, to feel out of control. Is that so bad? Oh we do try to control our world: the perfect home, the iconic car, the holiday planned down to the last train timetable, but it’s all a fantasy. Ultimately fate, luck, chance all play a role and we simply cannot be sure if a relationship will work. And so what if it doesn’t? What have we lost? Does it mean we are unworthy, unlovable, unmarryable? No. It means we lived our lives, challenged our comfort zones and flew close to the sun.

So you singed your wings, but feathers grow again, and so will you. Don’t find faults that others aren’t even seeing – just soar and see what happens.